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chipper9906 · 4 years ago

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Bound To You - Chapter 13: Reunions

< - - - Previous Chapter

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 15

NOTE: Pairings and Ratings Will Change As Story Is Updated

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Chapter Word Count: 11,456

Overall Word Count: 105,524

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (13/15)

Chapter Preview:

To his right is a building. It’s an old building, but not in that desolate, crumbling way an abandoned building would be. It’s well-loved, with many pairs of feet having walked through its front doors. Its aged wooden exterior has stood the test of time, the weathered appearance only adding to its charm. However, the strange thing about this building is… that it shouldn’t exist. It had burned down, years ago now, taking a beloved friend of the Winchesters with it. And yet, the switched-off neon sign situated above the bar’s awning proudly displayed ‘Harvelle’s Roadhouse’ as if that horrid event had never happened.

Castiel doesn’t have too much time to ponder on that, however, as the third thing he takes in is… himself. Sat upon a less than stable looking wooden chair under the Roadhouse’s awning is the spitting image of himself, although this version of him has forgone his usual trench coat attire, instead opting for a simple pair of well-worn jeans and a button-up shirt. The man waves him over and, without really knowing why, Castiel finds himself walking over.

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Character Key For Telepathic Conversations

'Italic Text' - Castiel

'Bold Text' - Dean

* * *

Castiel opens his eyes.

Which, in itself, is unexpected. His last experience in the Empty was one of… nothingness. He had only awoken once he had heard Dean calling to him, but before that… he was lost in a deep, deep sleep. He had assumed that meant the Empty had decided it was better to just throw him as far into the Empty as possible to sleep through his worst nightmares, allowing the Empty to finally go back to sleep itself.

Perhaps this time was different. Perhaps he had escaped the Empty’s clutches one time too many, woken it up from its slumber for the last time, and will now be subjected to the worst torture imaginable by this very ancient, and very pissed off being.

Either way, the sight that greets him when his eyes open is not of the Empty’s infinite stretches of darkness. He is also not greeted to the sight of the bunker’s ceiling, with the worried faces of the Winchester brothers and Eileen leaning over his freshly made body.

The first sight he sees is the sky; Rich blue in color that he’s sure no type of man-made paint would ever be able to match in even the most magnificent of paintings, dotted with beautifully crafted pillow-like clouds which floated lazily over his head. The gentle warmth of the sun above kissed his skin; not that searing heat that has your skin feeling raw and tight, but that perfectly comfortable temperature that can only be made better by – oh, and there it was: a gentle warm breeze that was cool enough to take off the edge of the sun’s rays, but also warm enough that it doesn’t leave him shivering under his trench-coat.

All of this information comes together in one big conclusion: wherever he had ended up…

He was no longer an Angel.

The surface under his back is hard enough that his shoulder blades have begun to ache, a consistent and uncomfortable pressure that forces him up to his feet. Once his body listens to his commands and has him taking in his surroundings, he’s able to take in the sight of the smooth, tarred road he had been laid out on, stretching out in front of him before bending around a corner and out of sight. Most of the road was surrounded by dense forest on either side, the few rays of light breaking through the tangled branches of the treetops shining down on the sun-bleached grass.

“Hello, Castiel,” The man greets him with a welcoming smile as he stands from the chair. His voice is similar to his own, though not of the same grumbly, rough pitch.

“Is this supposed to be some sort of trick?” Castiel asks the thing wearing his skin, unsure whether to keep his eyes focused on his double, or the strange world he had woken up in.

The man’s smile turns almost sad in nature, seeing the expression on his own face rather… jarring to see. “Ah… you think I’m the Empty, don’t you?”

“I’m dead, am I not?” Castiel answers his question with another question. “Where else would I go?”

“Well, I doubt I could convince you you’re not in that place,” The man places a hand on his own chest as he speaks. “But there is someone waiting to talk you in there that might. A few, actually. We’ve been keeping a close eye on you guys; it’s been both stressful and amusing to watch everything unfold, I can tell you that.”

Castiel’s eyes briefly flicker to the closed door of the Roadhouse at the man’s jab of a thumb behind himself, his new ears picking up the sound of soft music, chatter, and laughter emitting from within. “This… this isn’t the Empty?”

“Nope.”

“And… you’re not the Empty?”

“Also no.”

“Then… who are you?”

The man laughs kindly at that – not a mocking laugh, almost more… that he had been expecting for that question. “I was chosen to be the guy that welcomes you up here. Thought it would be nice for you to see a familiar face when you woke up - even if it’s only familiar because you’re borrowing it from me.”

It took an embarrassingly long time for Castiel to connect the dots. To be fair, he had just died, so everything was a little disorienting right now. “…James?”

James’s face twisted in discomfort at the name. “I prefer Jimmy, to be honest with you. ‘James’ feels weird…”

Castiel could only gawp at his vessel; both because of how friendly he was being towards him (especially considering they hadn’t left each other on the best of terms), and because, if he was talking to Jimmy right now, in front of the Roadhouse, basking in the most perfect weather he’s ever experienced, then…

“This… is Heaven?” Castiel finally gets out. “I’m in Heaven?”

“You are,” Jimmy confirms.

“I don’t understand…” Castiel mumbles, placing a hand on his chest as if he would be able to feel the one thing he shouldn’t have. “I… I don’t have a soul?”

“You didn’t have a soul. You do now.” Jimmy corrects him. “One of the few perks to being human.”

Before Castiel could say anything in response to this revelation, Jimmy was patting him on the back with a sympathetic smile. “Look, I know this is all… a lot. First time I woke up here was weird, too. One second I’m watching you throw a Molotov at Lucifer himself, the next I’m being ripped into atoms, and… here I am.”

“Ah…yes…” Castiel ducks his head in shame. “I'm sorry for-,”

“Sorry?” Jimmy cuts him off with a laugh. “Castiel… I had accepted to being chained to you for eternity, remember? Trust me, coming up here was the best thing that could have happened to me.”

“But…” Castiel begins with a frown. “What about Claire? I took you away from her. I made you miss watching her grow up, I-,”

“You did what you had to do to save the world. Which you and those guys down there did. Many times. Because of you, my girl gets to keep on living. I'm proud to have been the one that helped you to do that, Castiel. Even if it’s only by lending you my body.”

“That doesn’t excuse me of depriving her of a father.”

Jimmy sighs deeply at Castiel's insistence on kicking himself while he’s down. “She still had a father, Castiel. Sure, it took you a while, but you got there eventually. Buying her embarrassing birthday presents that she secretly loves? That's what a dad does. But most of all? You protected her, Castiel. You made sure to look out for her. Now, she has a home. And I know that Sheriff will be as protective over my girl as Amelia was, along with all those other girls shacked up in that house. She's safe. She has a chance to live her life. And one day… I'll get to see her again. I can’t ask for much more, Cas.”

Castiel smiled gratefully at his former vessel, diverting his gaze to the ground. “And… how are you, Jimmy? You and Amelia?”

“Never better,” Jimmy assured him, placing a hand on his back and diverting him towards the Roadhouse’s entrance. “Felt like a blink an eye before Amelia was up here with me. Things are even better with the change-,”

“The what?” Castiel planted his feet firmly, coming to a stop in front of the door. “What change?”

“Heaven, Castiel. Recently, there’s been some uh… well, let’s just say it’s not the Heaven you remember. Trust me - you’ll see what I mean when you get inside.”

Castiel’s gaze was drawn towards Jimmy’s hand gesturing towards the door in front of them, watching Castiel expectantly with a raised eyebrow. Castiel cast Jimmy one last look, praying quietly to himself that this wasn’t some sort of trick as he pushed open the door to the Roadhouse.

The interior of the Roadhouse is bathed with warm light, and filled with people milling about the bar, chatting happily to one another with drinks in hands. Who exactly these people are, Castiel does not know, for he only has a few seconds to take everything in before-

“There he is!” The excited yell comes from somewhere to his left, and he’s only just about able to turn his head towards the person yelling before his vision is overtaken by a small red-headed woman wrapping herself around him, nearly sending him stumbling back out of the Roadhouse.

“Charlie?” Castiel is just about able to get out, having all the air squeezed out of his new lungs by the arms locked around his ribs.

Charlie is beaming up at him just as brightly as the first time they had met, giving Cas an enthusiastic punch to the shoulder that was, honestly, borderline painful. “It’s good to see you, dude! Well, not good in the way that you’re dead, but, uh… you know, it’s just good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you too,” Castiel said, able to hear Jimmy’s amused chuckles at their reunion as he squeezes past the two.

“Told Charlie I had a feeling I’d be seeing one of you guys here, soon,” Another familiar voice appears at Cas’s side, glancing over to see the amused smile of Kevin Tran. “Perhaps not a few minutes after I got up here, but… should I ever be surprised?”

“Kevin…” Castiel breaths out in disbelief. “You… you made it into Heaven?”

Kevin shoots him a strained smile. “Third time’s the charm, right?”

“But… you were sent to Hell…” Castiel recalls, wincing at the reminder of what Chuck had cruelly done. “Damned souls aren’t permitted into Heaven.”

“Yeah… but that was Chuck’s rules,” Kevin said. “New boss in town has made some changes to the rules. No more worrying about going back to Hell, or potentially going crazy wandering around Earth in ghost form… Feels like it’s the first time I’ve been able to relax in… forever.”

“It’s… it’s been some time,” Castiel says awkwardly.

“Yeah, for you,” Charlie jumps in. “Time is funky up here, feels like it’s been… a few hours? For me, at first, I was just at my old home, back when I was a kid. Just me, my mom, and my dad, like the good old times. But something felt… weird.”

“Weird how?”

“I don’t know, it was like… it was like I wasn’t myself, not completely. Heaven felt like… like someone telling me what my Heaven should be. I don’t know if that really makes sense, but it wasn’t exactly bad, you know? But it also didn’t feel real. Like I was in some sort of play. And then, it felt like the walls came down. We were free to go where we want, see who we want. It feels like we’re back on Earth, but… if Earth was paradise, you know? No monsters, no worry about money. You have everything you want, the people you love, it’s just… it’s everything we were missing, and we didn’t even know we were missing it.”

Castiel huffs out a breathy laugh of realization. “Paradise on Earth… I thought I had been shown Earth, but it’s not…”

“We’ve been playing catch up, finding out what you guys have been up to down there,” Charlie tells him, giving him a sly grin. “I can’t believe Dean finally told you! It had been killing me to see you guys in person, pretty much a couple already but never crossing over the line. I mean it was bad enough reading about the eye-fucking in the Carver Edland books, but to see it in person-,”

“Chuck’s books?” Castiel interrupted her in horror. “God wrote about me and Dean… like that?”

“I mean… he was just writing what he saw,” Charlie’s knowing look made Castiel want to run away and hide. “Dean might just be the biggest disaster of a closeted Bi I had ever met…”

“Good to know I wasn’t the only one being subjected to that,” Kevin interjects with a shake of his head.

Castiel continues to look on in horror. “You knew that…?”

“One of Dean and mine’s first interactions was of Dean guiding me through step by step on how to flirt with a guy,” Charlie told him with a snort of laughter. “Kinda had an inkling that something was up after that. And then when I saw you guys together during that pizza night… I’ve never found something so adorable and yet so infuriating at the same time.”

“I’m… sorry?” Castiel offered.

Charlie grinned at his unsure-sounding apology, shaking her head at him. “You got nothing to be sorry for, Cas; Wouldn’t exactly expect an angel to be the most skilled in the art of seduction – and Dean was as blind as a bat to miss all the obvious signal you were sending his way. But seems like he got there eventually, right?”

“Yes, he did. Not that I ever expected it, but…” Castiel’s sentence hangs in the air, his warm smile at the memories of the past few weeks fading. “I… I left him again. I’m… I’m dead, and Dean-,”

“Hey,” Charlie stops him from going too far into such thoughts. “You can’t get caught up on that kind of stuff, okay? Trust me, it does you no good. Just… go around, say ‘Hi’ to everyone, catch up with all these guys and… try to enjoy your ticket into Heaven, huh?”

Castiel tried to smile at Charlie’s attempt at comforting him, but it comes out a bit more strained than he intended. “I never even thought I’d be returning to Heaven, but…”

Charlie’s able to read the expression on his face, almost able to feel the pain radiating off of Castiel herself. “It’s not Heaven without Dean.”

“No,” Castiel agreed quietly. “Dean was so desperate not to lose me again… he didn’t want to… to live without me, and I – it’s… that’s not a love I’ve ever known.”

“You’ll see him again one day,” Kevin assured him. “He’ll be up here. All of them will be.”

Charlie’s eyes drifted off to somewhere behind him. The frown that twists across her features helps to distract Castiel momentarily, his head tilting to the side as he asks, “What is it?”

“Surprised you couldn’t feel the eyes burning into your back,” Charlie answers, gesturing with a flick of her chin behind him. “Think he might be sizing you up…”

Castiel turns around, eyes scanning across the room in the direction Charlie had gestured to. There, sat upon a table, was where Castiel’s eyes met the searching stare of John Winchester. He didn’t exactly look upset to see Castiel – but he didn’t look particularly happy, either. This was quite the contrast to the smiling figure of Mary Winchester sat opposite him, whose smile held the same warmth she would direct towards her sons.

Castiel barely feels Charlie’s encouraging pat on his back as he strides over to the Winchester’s table, his gaze fixed on John as he stood from his chair, placing the brown-bottled beer in his hands atop the table, holding his head high as Castiel gets closer.

“So, you must be the guy who-,” Is as far as John gets before Castiel’s fist connects with John’s jaw, sending the older man sprawling back onto the ground. Mary seemed to have been expecting this at least somewhat, jumping up from her chair and racing around to her husband’s side, ready to get involved in case things get too out of hand.

“That was on behalf of Dean – seeing as he could never bring himself to do it,” Castiel spits coldly, glowering down at John.

John spends a few moments on the ground with a hand held against his split and already bruising lip (though that would heal away in mere minutes), looking up at Castiel in genuine shock before the rage kicks in. The fury seems to burn through the hazel ring of his eyes, circles of fire shining around the pitch black of his pupils as he glares up at him from the ground. Despite the fact that John had a good few inches of height over him, he still seemed to show some wariness alongside his obvious desire to jump up and sock Castiel in return. After all, Castiel was a solider of God that has millennia’s worth of battles under his belt; it's not too unlikely that Castiel would lay out this human flat in a fight.

“Who the hell do you-,” John is interrupted once more as, to his surprise, Castiel’s hand appears in his field of vision, held out in offering. It perplexes him enough that his anger subsides momentarily, gaze flicking between the hand in front of him, and the unreadable expression of blankness on Castiel’s face.

“The only reason I have a smidgen of respect for you is because of your son's love for you, and for your sacrifice for him,” Castiel hisses down at him. John nearly has enough pride to shove away the hand in front of his face and stand up on his own two feet, but the warning look his wife is sending his way is enough for him to reluctantly grab hold of the former angel's hand.

Castiel drags him up to his feet, keeping a firm grip on John’s hand as he speaks. “But for the years of abuse to your sons? Of the neglect, of the nights leaving your son to raise his brother whilst you lost yourself to drink? Of sending your children off to hunt monsters when they should have been studying for their SATs, and trying to mold your son into the man you think he should be, forcing your ideals onto him until he became the good soldier you could order around…”

Castiel shakes his head in disgust at John, who looks torn between keeping up his mask of rage or cowering away from the centuries-old being so fervently defending his own son. “For all of that? You deserve much worse than a single punch, John Winchester.”

“Castiel, it’s okay,” Mary assures him, placing a calming hand on his arm - that of which was still wound up tight with his fist clenched. “We had a long talk when I got back up here. Trust me.”

Castiel’s eyes dart between John and Mary, taking a single step back from John – only if to soothe Mary’s nerves somewhat.

“I know what I did to my sons was a crappy thing,” John’s confession takes Castiel by surprise. “I didn’t see it back then. Refused to see it the way it was. In my mind, I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing. That I had to raise my boys as tough as I could because that was the only way they could handle the real, shitty world out there. I was raising them with survival in mind, but I… I never once stopped to consider if they were actually living.”

“It was… a messy situation,” Mary adds in. “It’s not like all is suddenly forgiven. When our boys get up here, it’ll…” Mary paused, casting John a look that had him averting his gaze – probably the one person in his life that could get him to do that. “Some wounds will take time to heal. And some of those scars will always remain.”

“But I’m gonna try,” John insisted. “I’m gonna try and be the father they never had.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at John, wishing there was still enough grace left inside him to track John’s pulse and see if he was lying or not. “Good…” Castiel finally breaks the silence the three were in. “Because I intend to be by Dean’s side every second he’s here to make sure you do, indeed, try.”

“I fully expect you to,” John replied. “As I was saying - you must be the guy who’s been looking after my boys?”

“We look after each other,” Castiel corrected him. “That’s what family does.”

John cleared his throat awkwardly, looking desperate to return to his seat and continue drinking to get away from the situation he was in. “Uh, yeah… and, from what I hear, you and Dean are… uh… good friends?”

Castiel’s narrow-eyed glare returns in full force, straightening his spine as he leveled his gaze on John’s apprehensive one. “Yes. Dean and I are ‘friends’-,”

“Alright, look, it’s just… it’s weird for me. Back then-,”

“We’re not ‘back then’ anymore,” Castiel cuts him off. “And such discrimination was wrong ‘back then’ too, but you all followed poisoned words and ideals to force people into hiding, and into living unhappy lives where they were unable to be their true selves.”

“I’m just telling you how it was, okay?” John tried defending himself. “We were taught that there were cures for such things and-,”

“-And I’m telling you you’re wrong,” Castiel stepped forward once more, somehow appearing more intimidating when John was the one who stood taller than him. “There is no cure because there’s nothing to cure.”

“John, drop it,” Mary snapped at her husband. “Our son is happy with Castiel. You know that, you saw that. I don’t even want to think about what Dean must be going through right now, and you should know full well what that’s like seeing as you had to go through it with me.”

The fight seemed to drain out of John at that. He looked to Castiel like he was truly seeing him for the first time; seeing in him a different light, Mary’s comparison helping to see something in the former angel that he wouldn’t let himself see.

“You love my son?”

Castiel shouldn’t have to grace such a stupid question with an answer, but he does. “More than you could ever know. And I’ll never stop loving him. Dean Winchester is my soul.”

John’s gaze searched over him one more time before he finally nodded his head in what Castiel could only assume was the best form of acceptance that he would ever get from John – not that he cares for it either way. “Can’t say you’re what I envisioned my son ending up with, but… he found someone who makes him happy, so…”

Castiel chose to ignore the ‘what’ part of John’s sentence, accepting Mary’s apologetic frown with an understanding smile as John plops back down onto his seat. It’s only as Castiel turns away from the table that he hears them enter a heated, whispered argument that Castiel only feels slightly guilty about – and that’s only on Mary’s behalf.

There are six people huddled around the wooden bar that Castiel heads for - two of them with drinks in their hands and engaged in light conversation with the other three behind the bar. Castiel’s tense posture relaxes as he’s met with the motherly smile of the Roadhouse’s owners, taking a seat on the stool she gestures him for him to sit on

“Good to see you, son,” Is how Bobby Singer greets him for the first time in five years, along with a single solid pat to the back that has Castiel jolting forward in his seat. “At least you got to walk into heaven this time instead of sliding in on your back.”

Castiel ducked his head with quiet laughter, glancing back up when a bottle of cold beer is plonked down on the bar in front of him.

“Oh, that’s okay-,”

“Don’t make me force it down you, Castiel,” Ellen warned him, “You’re in Heaven – you can have one drink at least.”

Castiel listened to the warning tone Ellen was sending his way, picking up the bottle of beer from the bartop and taking a swig of the bitter liquid, savoring the way the carbonated bubbles tickled his mouth.

“What happened to the guy who could down five shots of whiskey like it was nothing?” Jo slid up to her mother’s side behind the bar, tempted to go and grab a bottle behind her to see if Castiel could still pull such a feat.

“Really?” Comes a sultry voice from beside Bobby. “Shame I never got to saw that – then again, I didn’t get to see much of anything after I got a glimpse of you.”

Castiel practically shrinks into his seat at Pamela’s words, wincing at the memories that flooded back. “Ah, yes, that… um…”

Pamela’s pearls of laughter broke through Castiel’s embarrassed stammers. “Relax, angel. You gave me fair warning, but I kept poking.” Pamela leaned past Bobby, sticking out a hand for Castiel to shake. “Nice to finally get a good look at ‘ya without seeing nothing but burning white light. Gotta say… I get why Dean wants to tap that.”

“Oh, um… thank you?”

“Technically, that compliment is for me!” Jimmy calls over from his own table, getting a disappointed smack to the arm from his wife next to him.

“Still can’t believe Dean finally made a move,” Jo brings Cas’s attention back to the patrons at the bar. “You guys were the big gossip circulating around the angel radio that Ash hooked us up to,” Jo jabs a thumb towards the mullet-wearing man sat at the end of the bar, tapping away at the keyboard on his laptop with one hand whilst giving Castiel a wave in greeting with the other.

“Sup, man,” Ash looks up from his laptop long enough to take in the sight of Castiel for the first time.

“You… managed to access Heaven’s radio?” Castiel asked.

“Yep,” Ash answered proudly. “Didn’t take me long to tap into Heaven’s systems. At first, it was only radio and then… I had eyes on footage of you guys. Picture ain't great, but… better than just a bunch of angels blabbering away. And, uh… let's just say there aren’t too many angels that can talk nowadays, you get me?”

“But… how did you get any information from angel radio? My siblings would only transfer in Enochian to one another.”

“Balit qaa ol om Enochian,” Ash replies simply with a knowing smile before his attention is diverted back to the computer in front of him. “Oh, and the stuff you were saying to Dean in that beach dream? Raunchy stuff, dude.”

His embarrassment at being heard aside, that was something that Castiel didn’t understand; how exactly was it that they had managed to get access to Dean’s dreams? Multiple people had now told him they had seen his and Dean’s… change in relationship, but he wasn’t exactly sure how.

“How did you see that?” Castiel doesn’t just direct the question at Ash, eyes flickering between those at the bar. “-All of you, in fact.”

“We saw everything go down through your eyes, dude,” Ash answered for them. “Your grace sort of acts like a, uh… an Enochian broadcast. I just had to find the right channel to tune into and bam; angel vision up on display.”

“We weren’t watching all the time if that makes your privacy feel any less violated,” Jo adds.

“It was mostly to check up and see what ya idjits were getting up to,” Bobby said, accepting the fresh beer that Ellen passed over to him. “Make sure you weren’t getting involved in another apocalypse.”

“Nice surprise to see the only big news was you and Dean deciding to pull your heads out of your assess,” Jo tells him with a grin, receiving a smack to the back of her head from the towel in her mother’s hand.

“Joanna Beth!” Ellen pulled out the full name. “There was a million different ways you could have said that.”

“I know – I went the direct route,” Jo replied, rubbing at the sore spot on the back of her head.

“What my daughter means to say…” Ellen says with a side glance at the woman in question. “Is that the last time we met, you were…”

“A dick?” Castiel offers. “I’ve been called that in the past.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Ellen said. “You were… starting to come into yourself a little more. Dean was starting to bring you out of whatever shell angel life had forced you into, and we were only just starting to get to know you. Then… well, the Hell Hounds happened, and then ten years later I can barely recognize the angel I once met.”

“I’m not sure if you mean that a compliment, or an insult,” Castiel admits.

“Oh, it’s a compliment,” Ellen assures him. “You’ve changed for the better, Castiel. It’s not that we’re surprised Dean fell for you - we’re surprised how long it took.”

Ellen’s eyes glance over to someone behind him, and Castiel glances over his shoulder to see Jimmy approaching the bar from his table. Although, instead of sitting down on an empty stool, he stands next to Castiel, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt the reunion, but… it’s time.”

“Damn, time really does fly by in Heaven,” Bobby curses, sliding the half-drunken beer out of Castiel’s hand and giving him another encouraging pat on the back. “It was good seeing you again, Castiel.”

Castiel was… still rather unsure what exactly was going on. Everyone else at the bar seemed to know, which was frustrating in of itself, and Castiel could only switch his confused frown from the hand on his shoulder to the arm’s owner. “It’s time for what?”

“You’ll see,” Jimmy answers unhelpfully, gesturing with a flick of his head for Castiel to stand and follow.

Seeing as there’s not much else for him to do but follow the instructions given to him, Castiel finds himself standing up from the bar, casting one last look to past friends. They all give him reassuring smiles as he follows Jimmy – even getting an encouraging nod from John, much to Cas’s bewilderment. Jimmy leads him towards the kitchen of the Roadhouse, leading him through past the well-loved ovens, stoves, and cooking utensils before arriving at the back door to the Roadhouse, leading to an outside Castiel has never seen.

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again,” Are Jimmy’s final parting words, gesturing with an open hand towards the door before he’s heading back towards the warm-sounding conversation within the bar. Castiel glances over his back to watch him go, a part of him drawn back to the bar, back to the people he knows.

But there’s something else on the other side of that door. Something else that’s calling to him, its pull much stronger than the Roadhouse. Without much of a second thought, Castiel pushes down on the bar across the heavy metal door, swinging it open and stepping out into the comfortably cool afternoon’s air.

* * *

It felt like a bomb had gone off.

It might as well have. The explosion of Cas’s grace – or… Cas himself, Sam supposed – had left them in this state of… numbness. For the first ten minutes or so, ten agonizing minutes, Sam could only stand shocked still where he was, watching as his brother cradles Cas in his laps, calling for him to come back.

After the bargaining came the screams.

That’s the only word he had for them, really. These gut-wrenching, pain-filled cries as the reality of the situation begun to sink in for his older brother. Sam had tried to step around the table in front of him, walk over to his brother, and…

And do what? What could he possibly do to make this situation any better? Cas was gone, and nothing he could say or do would help to ease his brother’s grief. He had only made it around the table when he caught sight of Castiel’s face resting on Dean’s lap, and that was as far as he could go. He slid down onto the floor, resting his head against the table leg behind him, and just… stared. Even when Eileen came around to his side; when she had dropped down next to him, rest her head on his shoulder, and held his hand tightly in her own… he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his brother and his once best friend.

Sam didn’t think there would be anything worst than the screams. The non-stop sobs that had his older brother gasping for air. But, as it turns out, the silence was the worst. When the tears stopped flowing and ran dry, his brother's back no longer shaking with his ragged breaths, there was nothing but silence and stillness. Dean still had Cas in his lap – and Sam didn’t dare try to move Cas from him.

He knew they would have to, eventually. Dean couldn’t stay like this forever… neither of them could. Eventually, Sam would have to pry Dean off of Cas. He would have to drag him, kicking and screaming away from Cas’s body whilst Eileen wrapped him up – because if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t think he could do this all over again.

Wrap up Cas, again. Build a pyre for him, again. Say their goodbyes as they watch his body go up in flames, again.

He was tired of losing friends. He thought it would be over by now, that this time would be different.

Wherever the hell Chuck ended up, Sam knows he’s laughing at them right now.

Somehow, from beyond the grave…

The bastard still won.

* * *

The sight that greets Castiel as he steps out from the Roadhouse is confusing, to say the least. The back of the Roadhouse should have been nothing more than an empty field and a wall of trees. Instead, Castiel takes in the beauty of the Washington mountains, sat pretty in the distance and reflected in the calm surface of the lake stretched out in front of him. Just off the shore of the lake is a cabin that Castiel is very familiar with, having once rented it not too many years ago.

It’s only then that Castiel realizes how strangely quiet it had become; gone was the quiet laughter and muted conversations of the Roadhouse, replaced by the water’s edge gently lapping at the shore and the birds singing as they flew overhead. When Castiel turns around, he’s met with empty space where the Roadhouse had once been.

“It was a beautiful spot, wasn’t it?”

Castiel freezes in place at the voice he hears behind him.

“Tainted by death, but still… beautiful.”

He’s not too sure how he manages to spin around on such shaky legs, but he does. And when he does, he’s met with the calming, grateful smiles of Kelly, sat on a wooden bench that seemed to have been created out of thin air.

“Hello, Castiel,” Kelly greets him, the tears shining in her eyes as she looks up to her son’s father-figure the same as the ones in Castiel’s. There’s nothing he can even say before Kelly has her arms wrapped around him, holding him tight. “You did it, Cas… You really did it. Jack, he’s-,”

“I know,” Castiel tells her – and he really does know. Pride didn’t even fit the description of what Cas felt for how far Jack had come.

Kelly untangles her arms from around his neck, quickly wiping the tears off her face as she does. “You’ve given so much for him, I… I don’t even know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say,” Castiel assured her.

“That’s not true,” Kelly said with a shake of her head. “You stuck by him through everything. Even in the times you thought you would lose your friends, your family…”

“Because I knew it would all work out in the end. No matter what Chuck threw our way… I believed in the vision Jack showed me.”

The puff of wings behind him is a sound he hasn’t heard in quite some time. And, judging by the loving smile that instantly graced Kelly's face, he knew exactly who it was that was stood behind him.

Castiel gave himself a few seconds to take in the beaming smile that always seemed to be plastered on Jacks face before he's wrapping the boy up tight in his arms, letting out a breath of relief as Jacks's arms squeeze him just as tight; part of him having wondered if the acquisition of God’s powers may have altered him somewhat.

It seemed he had nothing to worry about.

Kelly smiled sweetly at the two’s reunion, looking over to Jack as she asks, “It’s time, huh?”

“Time for what?” Castiel asked the two of them, the question eerily similar to Jimmy’s cryptic wording back in the Roadhouse.

“I wanted to talk to you for a bit, if you don’t mind. Just me and you,” Jack answered. Kelly stepped forward, giving Castiel’s hand one big squeeze of goodbye before she was heading back towards the cabin, disappearing through its door and out of sight.

Jack began walking towards the shoreline of the lake, keeping his pace slow as he waits for Cas to begin following him. The two walk side by side along the edge of the lake, moving under the cover of the dense forest that surrounded the cabin. It really was a beautiful place – more beautiful than the other places he’s died in, anyway.

“Does your mother live here now? In Heaven?” Castiel asks Jack as they walk, enjoying the leisurely pace they were set in.

“She does,” Jack confirms. “I come and visit her here when I can, which… isn’t often.”

“…Why isn’t it often?”

The smile Jack gives him in return looks much too old for the boy wearing it. “Being God has its responsibilities. I’ve been trying, but… it's been hard work.”

“I can imagine,” Castiel glances around the world they were in – not really a world, yet also more real than Heaven ever was. “Jack, what you've done here…”

“Do you like it?” Jack asked brightly, still searching for the approval of those he looks up to despite now being God. “I always thought the old Heaven seemed… lonely. When I was in my heaven, I had you, and Sam, and Dean, but… I could always tell something was off. It wasn’t the real you.”

“So you decided to break down Heaven's walls?”

“It was a bit more complicated than that, but…” Jack seems almost frustrated for a moment – not at Castiel, no, but at Chuck's design of Heaven. “Heaven is filled with people; it didn’t seem right that people were left only with their soul mates - if they're lucky enough to have them – and only illusions of the people they loved just as much when they were alive.”

“I… I suppose I didn’t consider it in that way,” Castiel confessed. “The souls in Heaven seemed happy. Content.”

“I think they were. But… that doesn’t mean Heaven couldn’t be made better.”

“So this is what you’ve been working on this whole time?” Castiel asks, gesturing to the beautiful scenery they were walking in. “Opening up Heaven?”

“Partly, yes,” Jack leads Castiel over to a small clearing in the forest where the lake is practically lapping at the trees that sit by the shore’s edge, giving them a beautiful view of the mountains in the distance. “I’ve been doing other work too, though.”

Castiel reaches Jack's side, staring out at the view in front of him. “On Earth?”

“Not our Earth,” Jack answers. “I will, eventually. But, for now, this Earth is at least intact. Sustainable. But… there’s all those other Earth’s out there. The other universes that Chuck destroyed.”

“You’re… rebuilding them?”

“It’s… kind of draining,” Jack admits, although the captivating smile on his face does not give away the tiredness he must be feeling. “Amara’s been helping me.”

That was news to Castiel. “She has?”

“She was quiet at first. Despite everything Chuck had done, I think she still loved him. Still does love him. She started opening up once I got to work on the other Universes, giving what recommendations she can, what she thinks Chuck would have done; I’m trying to recreate them as best as I could in his image.”

“What for?”

“So that the people of those Earth’s come back to the world they remember,” Jack turns away from the mountain view, facing Cas. “Don’t they deserve the same as the people on this Earth? Shouldn’t they be able to return to the homes they know, the families they know?”

Jack’s brow furrows when, for a while after the end of his sentence, Cas is just looking down at him with this small, subtle smile that only begins to display the warmth his eyes are holding towards the boy – this God – he still considers to be his own.

“What?” Jack asks, voice rising in pitch in what was a mix of both amusement and wonder.

“Nothing, just…” Castiel trails off, placing a heavy hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I’m so proud of you… All of us are. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” Jack said. His face shifted then, the gentle smile on his face sliding away, his eyes dripping down to his feet as he takes in a deep breath of fresh mountain air. “Cas, there’s… there’s a reason I needed to talk to you.”

Castiel tries to catch Jack’s gaze, but the Nephilim’s eyes were firmly fixed on the ground, his sneakers kicking up small twigs as he gouges a small hole into the dirt. “Jack?”

“I need you to know that I wasn’t ignoring you,” Jack says, bending down to pick up one of the tiny pieces of wood he had kicked up. “Any of you. I knew what was happening. With you, and with Dean. His accident and then… what’s been happening to you.”

Castiel didn’t know what to say to that. It was something he already knew – well, maybe not knew, but… assumed, he supposed.

“I wanted to step in,” Jack continues, twirling around the twig that he had pinched between his thumb and forefinger. “Every day, I wanted to leave my work and just… fix everything. I wanted to pull you out when you were in the Empty. I wanted to heal the hole in Dean’s back when he saw dying on that pole. I wanted to heal his severed spine after, re-create your vessel and place you back inside.”

Even though he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to hear the answer, Castiel had to ask. “Why didn’t you?”

Jack releases the twig from between his fingers, finally lifting his gaze back up to meet Castiel’s. “The Empty is… not happy. I tried to get you back, Cas. When Chuck brought back my father, the Empty… It… It made threats.”

“What kind of threats?”

“The world-ending kind of ones,” Jack answers somberly. “It told Chuck that, if he tried to take a creature from the Empty… it would storm across Earth and destroy all those in its wake so that it could finally sleep. No one left to wake it up. Chuck, he… he just laughed. Told the Empty to ‘go ahead’, grabbed my father, and was just… gone.”

“That seems risky for Chuck… I would have thought he’d worry about the Empty interfering with his script?”

“I think it was too late for him to care at that point,” Jack replied. “All that was left was to kill you, me, Sam, and Dean. You were… you were already gone at that point, and after Chuck killed the rest of us…”

“Chuck would have wiped out Earth anyway…”

Jack nodded. “Chuck had already killed everyone on Earth. He just… didn’t care anymore. When the Empty made the same threat to me, I just…”

Jack looked away then, tears of frustration brimming in his eyes. “It tore me apart, Cas. I wanted you back, I just… I wanted to be selfish. But I couldn’t doom the world like that… doom Dean and Sam like that, and… I had to leave you… I left you…”

“It’s okay…” Cas stepped forward, placing both hands on Jack’s shoulders and giving them a comforting squeeze. “You did exactly what you were supposed to. If that would have been the price of bringing me back, then it wouldn’t have been worth it,”

Jack shook his head fervently. “It would have been worth it. You would have been worth it, Cas. But it wouldn’t have been right… I wouldn’t be a very good God if I wiped out Earth my first day.”

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t,” Cas agreed with a breathy chuckle.

“It wasn’t until I saw what happened to Dean, saw you rip yourself out of the Empty that I realized… I didn’t need to do anything. I didn’t intervene because… I needed you to see.”

“See… what?”

“What you’ve always refused to accept,” Jack answered. “Dean and Sam – they tried so hard to bring you back, didn’t they?”

Castiel could only frown at that, trying to figure out what Jack was trying to get across. “Yes, they did.”

“And when they found out your grace was diminishing, that you would eventually lose your powers and become human; when they found out that you could no longer heal, no longer provide your powers to then… they still tried everything they could to bring you back. Everything they did … was for you, Cas. Not for what you can do for them, but because they love you. That’s what I needed you to see, Cas. We don’t love you for your powers. Me, Sam, Dean, Eileen, and everyone that knows you loves you because you’re you.”

It was only once the breeze blew through the trees and into their little clearing that Cas could feel the wetness on his face, a few stray tears having escaped his eyes and slipped down his cheeks without him even noticing.

“I tried to help where I could,” Jack continued, his admission sounding almost guilty, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I… I wasn’t sure whether to bring back Eileen, at first. She had already been dead before, and I… I wasn’t sure whether she would have wanted to rest in Heaven or be returned, but then… then I saw how sad Sam was and… I couldn’t take them away from each other.”

“I think you made the right choice,” Cas tells him, still wiping away the tears that were clung to his face. “And my trench-coat? Was that you as well?”

“And the spell,” Jack said with a slight smile. “I was getting worried you guys weren’t going to find it by yourselves so I, um… I kind of ‘placed’ it where Eileen would take notice.”

Cas let out another breathy laugh at that. Staring out to the mountains, he stepped forward towards the lake, crouching down by the shore and running his fingers through the shore’s sand. It was clumpy, sticking to his hand in a mixture of lake-bed soil and grains wettened by the murky water. It was nothing like the soft sands of Dean’s…

The pain’s too much. He can’t think about him. Can’t think about the suffering he knows Dean is going through.

“So… what now?” Castiel asks Jack, glancing over his shoulder to where Jack was stood, watching him.

“That’s up to you.”

Castiel blinked up at Jack in surprise, slowly standing back up from his crouch as he takes in Jack’s pleased smile. “What do you mean?”

“I wanted to give you the option to choose,” Jack continues. “I know that, for most of your life… all you’ve ever done is follow orders, Cas. Then, once you broke free and chose to live a life of free will… the choices you made still weren’t entirely your own. Every single choice you’ve made… none of them were ever truly for yourself, were they? They were always for the greater good. For someone’s else behalf. Making a deal to save my life… sacrificing yourself to keep Dean safe…”

“They were still choices I wanted to make, Jack.”

“Choices that cost you too much,” Jack argues back. “Now, for once… I want you to choose for you, Cas. Not because you think it’s best for me, or for Dean, or for anyone else. For you.”

Castiel could hear his own blood rushing through his ears, his heart up in his throat as it pounded relentlessly. These weren’t nerves. They were… anticipation. Hope.

“If you want to… you can finally rest. You can stay here, in Heaven. Live in peace, with no pain and no worries, surrounded by those you love. And… if you wanted to, you could help me.”

“Help you? With… rebuilding Heaven?”

“And everything else,” Jack confirmed. “You would have your grace back, of course. It would be nice to have you with me as I rebuild all that Chuck has destroyed.”

Castiel nodded slowly, letting Jack’s offer mill about in his mind. If there was one thing life on Earth had taught him… it was that he liked to help in any way he could. If there was a way for him to make life better for the less unfortunate, to correct the damage his father had inflicted upon billions upon billions of innocents…

It felt like what he was made for.

“And… what’s the other option?”

Jack answered Cas’s question by raising a hand up and tapping his fingers to Cas’s forehead. Castiel felt that familiar rush of the Universe rushing past him as the two moved at immeasurable speeds in the blink of an eye.

The sight that greets him upon landing is one he never wants to see.

“…Dean?” Castiel knows Dean won’t be able to hear him, but he can’t stop himself from uttering his name at the sight of Dean collapsed on the floor of the bunker, cradling him in his lap as his body shakes with silent sobs that had long since dried out. Though they no longer exist, Cas can feel his back muscles twitch as if his wings were still there, instinctively trying to wrap themselves around the grieving body of the man he loves.

“He’ll be okay,” Jack’s words almost escape Cas’s notice, so focused on the heart-broken figure of Dean Winchester. “He won’t be at first, and it won’t be easy, but he’ll heal. Your death will always leave a part of him empty, but… he will carry on, Cas. Dean will live out the rest of his life, and he will one day pass and reunite with you in Heaven.”

Cas barely registers as Jack steps up to his side, barely feels the steady weight of Jack’s palm pressed soothingly into his back. “I’ll be okay too, Cas. Okay? Don’t choose to come up to Heaven and help me if you feel like it’s what’s right, or that you’re worried I’ll need you. I can do this, okay? I can. All of us will be okay. You choose for you, Cas.”

Castiel dragged his tear-filled eyes away from Dean’s form, meeting Jack’s understanding ones. There was no judgment behind Jack’s eyes, no secret hope that he would choose to return to Heaven and continue his work for Heaven.

The truth was that, the second he laid eyes on Dean, he knew what his choice was going to be.

Jack knew, too.

“Dean,” Castiel answered in a hoarse whisper, and the knowing look on Jack’s face grew all the more stronger. “What I want… it’s always been Dean.”

It was a relief to see the beaming smile that spread across Jack's face at his answer. There was no hint of disappointment on his face, only genuine happiness that Castiel has chosen his own happiness. For once, Castiel had gone for what he wants.

“Live a long, happy life Cas,” Jack said what he intended to be his parting words, raising his hand once more to tap his fingers against Castiel's head.

Before he could so, Cas caught Jack’s hand midair and pulled him into what he hoped wouldn’t be one last hug between father and son, holding him tight as he buried his head into Jack’s shoulder. “Will… Will I see you again?”

Jack pulled away from Castiel's embrace, keeping a hand on his shoulder. “I'll be around, Cas.”

Castiel shifted his gaze over to Dean, still collapsed on the floor staring numbly at his body, when an idea struck him. “Wait… what about Dean?”

“What about him?”

“His spine…” Castiel answered, turning on the begging eyes that Dean once told him he's sure he learned from Sam. “You've already done so much for us, but… do you think you could heal him?”

Jack only smiled at that, an odd reaction to Castiel's request, and then his last words were left to echo around Cas's head as his fingers once again brushed against his forehead and plunged the world into darkness.

“There's nothing for me to heal, Cas. You’ve already taken care of that.”

* * *

Dean wasn’t sure how long he'd been sat on the floor now. Did it even matter how long? And why should he care?

Cas was gone.

That's all his mind could produce. The only thoughts his treacherous brain graced him with. Cas is dead. Cas is dead. Cas is dead. Cas is dead.

Over and over again, on a loop. He doesn’t even feel the deep aching pain of his loss anymore. There’s nothing. His body has just… shut off. No more emotions. No more caring about anything.

Cas was dead. That's all there was.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice is hesitant, unsure. Dean can barely hear it. Sam had, eventually, managed to get his feet under him. He had walked over to Dean, but wasn’t stood by his side. There was a few awkward meters of space between them, an invisible line that Sam couldn’t bring himself to cross.

Dean knew what Sam's next words were going to be before Sam said them. “Dean, we need to…”

It was as far as Sam could get. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought Dean was dead, too. His face was just… blank. Unmoving as be stared down at Cas's still form. Sam braves one look at Castiel's face cradled on Dean's lap, sees the pale color of skin without a supply of blood, sees the closed eyes of his best friend he'll never get to see again and-

“Sam?” Eileen's voice is like an anchor, bringing him back to reality.

Sam clears his throat, looking away and up to the ceiling to try and blink away the tears that were burning in the corner of his eyes. “I can't, I-,”

“Yes, we can.”

Sam looks down at Dean in surprise. He was still just as frozen in place, face still just as empty, and for a moment Sam wondered if he had actually heard Dean speak at all.

“We'll do it for him,” Dean croaked out, raising a hand that wouldn’t stop trembling and placing it down on Cas's chest. “We can’t give him much, but… the least we can do is give him a proper fucking goodbye this time.”

Sam miraculously managed to crouch down next to his brother without his legs giving away, placing his hand atop his brother’s back. “Yeah… yeah, we can uh… I'll go and see what we have to wrap him up in. Maybe… maybe the sheets from his bed? Or we could-"

Dean was listening to Sam anymore. Because there, underneath his hand, he could feel Cas's heart beating steadily in his chest. It had started out of nowhere, one big ‘thump’ that he put down to his grief-riddled mind. The second one he thought that perhaps the injury to his spine had worsened when he fell from his chair, and was starting to get false sensations in his hands.

But then the third pump of Cas's heart came. Then the fourth, the fifth, the sixth, and the back of Dean's head nearly collided with Sam’s face hovering over his shoulder as his head reared back.

“Sam, there's a pulse.”

“He…what?!” Sam exclaimed. He desperately wanted to believe his brother, but… “Are you sure?”

“Am I-,” Dean huffed in irritation, reaching around to grab his brothers’ hand and place it against Cas's neck.

Sam’s furrowed brow straightened out to an expression of slack-jawed dumbfounded as he felt the rapid flutter of Cas's pulse against his fingertips. “Oh my God… Oh my God, he's alive!”

Eileen dropped down on her knees next to them, picking up on their sudden fanatic movements but unable to hear or read the brother's panicked words. “What?! What is it?!”

“Cas is alive,” Sam told her breathlessly as Dean bent over to place an ear against Cas's chest, able to hear the rapid thuds of his heartbeat. Except… Cas's chest didn’t move under his head.

“Sam, he’s not breathing,” Dean got out in a panic, framing the sides of Cas's face with his hands. “Cas? Cas, can you hear me? C'mon man, I need you to say something.”

Dean whipped his head back around to face Sam and Eileen. “What the hell do we do? Do we give him CPR?”

“I-I- I don’t know,” Sam blurted out. “His heart is beating fine, right? Is there something blocking his airway or-,”

Then it happened. Cas's chest inflated with one big inhale of air, catching all three of their attention just in time to see his eyes snap open, greeted by crystal blue eyes that never seemed quite so human in their dazed and panicked blown-out appearance.

As it turns out, having your lungs inflate for the first time as you take your first breath is quite uncomfortable. Cas's lungs were racked with harsh-sounding coughs as they tried to adjust to the sudden change. Dean jumped into action and helped pull him up into a sitting position, Dean's hand tight around his arm like he might drop back to the floor in a lifeless heap if he let go.

“Cas?” Dean leans his head down as Cas folds over himself, trying to catch his breath after his coughing fit. “You okay?”

Castiel pulled himself back up, placing a hand on his chest as he took another deep breath in, this one – thankfully – not sending him into another round of coughs. “I… I think so.”

Castiel’s eyes swiveled around to meet Dean’s, then over to Sam and Eileen’s bewildered faces, then settled back on Dean again. Dean's eyes were about as wide as they can go, watching Cas warily both in fear that Cas might drop down dead again and second, and that this could all be one cruel trick… Another lazy laugh from Chuck perhaps, some asshole demon jumping into the free body like Belphagor did with Jack, hiding its true identity until the moment it-

“Hello, Dean.”

Nope, never mind. That was his angel, alright.

“Hello-?” Dean cuts himself off with a huff of laughter that sounded more like a sob of relief than anything, pulling Cas into him and grabbing hold of the trench-coat wrapped around him so tightly that it seemed moments away from ripping.

“You're alive… Oh, you’re alive, you're okay… You're here…”

“I’m okay,” Castiel speaks softly into the crook of Dean’s neck.

“You've gotta stop dying on me, Cas,” Dean tried to joke, but the tears brimming his eyes gave away the illusion of a care-free attitude. “I don’t know how much more of you dying I can handle.”

“I'll promise if you promise,” Cas replies, and that at the very least gets a laugh out of Dean.

“Hey-,” Is all Sam says before he’s moving towards Cas, wrapping him up in one of his signature bear-hugs at a very awkward angle, considering Castiel was still mostly seated on Dean’s lap. “You have no idea how good it is to see you, man.”

“I can assure you, the feeling is mutual,” Castiel replies, releasing his grip on Sam only to have his arms filled seconds later by Eileen, who squeezed up beside Sam to get her own hug in.

“Please don’t do that again,” Eileen said, pushing away from the hug to give Castiel a stern look. “I don’t know how you guys handle this…”

“We don’t,” Dean answers. “We make stupid deals that get us or the world into trouble.”

“Speaking of…” Sam mumbled, the change on his face from relief to an analyzing and calculating look aimed at Castiel making Dean’s stomach drop. “Cas… how is it that you’re here? You were dead. For a while. Then… you were alive again. Did you… did you make another deal with the Empty?”

“I didn’t even go to the Empty,” Castiel answered, one of those rare gummy smiles breaking out across his face. “It was Jack.”

“Jack?” Dean said. “Jack saved you?”

“He gave me a choice,” Cas replied. “I didn’t go to the Empty, because… Jack had permitted me entry into Heaven, instead. When my grace was destroyed during the spell, there was a short time that I was human. And in that time… Jack had gifted me a soul.”

“Huh… well I’ll be damned,” Dean mumbled under his breath. “All this time, huh? He was helping us the whole time?”

“Where he could, yes,” Castiel said. “Dean, Sam… I wish you could have seen him. He’s… he’s everything Chuck should have been. He’s still him, he’s still the boy we knew, and… he cares so much. All he wants is to make the world a better place. The world, the other worlds, Heaven… he’s already done so much work.”

“Way to go, kid,” Dean spoke up towards the ceiling, voice beaming with pride. He turned his proud smile back down to Cas, glancing down from the tender smile Cas was giving him in return to Cas’s current choice of wardrobe – or, more accurately, the lack thereof. “C’mon, Cas. Let’s, uh… let’s go get you some clothes.”

“Oh,” Cas said in surprise, looking down at himself as if he hadn’t realized he had been sat here stark naked for the past few minutes. “Yes, that would probably be for the best…”

“I think I got some spare sweats you could borrow,” Dean mumbles as he pushes himself up to his feet, bending down to offer a hand to Cas.

Cas doesn’t take his hand. He remains seated on the floor, eyes wide as they can go and mouth dropped open nearly to the floor. Dean frowns at the astonished look Cas was giving him, glancing over to Sam and Eileen only to find they two were staring bug-eyed at him.

“What?” Dean asked. “Why are you all-,”

He was standing.

Holy Fuck, he was standing!

How the hell had it taken him this long to realize? How the hell had he not realized that he was able to feel the warm weight of Castiel on his lap? He had gotten back up to his feet without a second thought, so focused on helping Cas up that it just… hadn’t occurred to him that it was something he shouldn’t be able to do anymore.

“Dean, you’re arm-,” Sam manages to get out through his mask of shock, pointing to Dean’s arm. “It’s… it’s glowing.”

Dean looks down to his left shoulder where Sam was pointing, already able to see the faint blue glow under the sleeve of his shirt. Dean makes quick work of pushing the sleeve up, seeing the last few glowing pulses of Cas’s handprint on his arm before it reverted back to its usual faint red color.

“You’ve already taken care of it…” Castiel mumbles to himself, the realization hitting him like a bag of bricks. “My grace…”

Castiel’s eyes snap to the mark on Dean’s arm, jumping up to his wobbly feet and very nearly falling straight back down again. Dean shoots out an arm to catch Cas before he can fall, wrapping his hands around Cas’s biceps to steady him in place.

“Cas… how am I standing?” Dean asks.

“My grace,” Castiel repeats himself. “I asked Jack if he could heal you, Dean. But he told me there was nothing for him to heal, and that… that I had already healed you. I just… I hadn’t even realized I had done it.”

“But… how?” Sam asks. “I thought you used the last of your grace in the transfer over to your body?”

“I did,” Castiel confirms. “You have to remember that Grace is nothing but pure energy. Volatile energy. When the spell failed, the last of my grace, myself, I… there was a release of power. An explosion of my grace. I think that when this occurred…”

Castiel trailed off, tearing his gaze away from the expectant faces around him back to the scar of his handprint on Dean’s shoulder. “The sudden surge of my grace caused a reaction within the ebb of grace inside the mark. It would have momentarily powered up the last of my grace, and…”

“And it healed me…” Dean finished what Cas was leading to. He looked from the mark on his shoulder over to Cas, a sharp burst of delirious laughter escaping him as he pulled Cas into what felt like the hundredth hug of that evening -not that he was complaining. “Remind me to tell you how amazing you are, Cas. Every day if you have to. I don’t say it enough, you magnificent bastard.”

Cas’s light chuckles next to his ear only made Dean’s smile grow wider. Cas pulled away from their embrace, and then right there, his soft eyes looking to Dean like everything had fallen into place was when it sunk in for Dean.

Cas was alive. Right here in front of him, alive and warm under his hands. His future was back, looking right at him, and for once in his damned life it felt like everything was going to be okay.

He didn’t care that Eileen and Sammy were right there next to them, didn’t care if they knew or not. He was done with the hiding, the pretending, the worry over what others would think of him. All that mattered was he had Cas back, the had another chance to do this right.

So, right in front of his brother, he kisses Cas for all he's worth. He kisses him like it might be the last time he’d ever get the privilege, like one of them were going to die at any second – which, with them, is a very real possibility.

“That was real…” Dean whispers against Castiel’s lips. “Not a dream… not in my head… you’re real.”

“I’m real,” Castiel mimicked Dean’s words. “And you kissed me.”

“And I kissed you,” Dean agrees, his breathy laughter brushing across Castiel’s face. “Uh… I think we might have an audience.”

Dean peeled himself away from Cas, glancing anxiously over to his brother. Not that he had anything to worry about, of course. Sam didn’t even blink at the two of them, too wrapped up in the euphoria and relief of getting his best friend back that he could only stand back with Eileen, watching their well-earned reunion with a smile of pure relief.

Eileen nudges Sam’s arm, gesturing to the two in front of them. “How about a new bet?”

Sam grins down at her, making sure Dean and Cas were otherwise distracted; not that it took long -the two always seemed to have their attention drawn to one another – before signing, “Is that even a question? What you got?”

“I’d give it six months before we’re stood at their wedding.”

Sam takes the bet.

He gives it three months.

Next Chapter - - - >

#destiel #destiel fanfiction #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #destiel fix it #destiel fix it fic #fix it fic #castiel/dean #castiel/dean winchester #casdean #supernatural spoilers #season 15 spoilers

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violent-optimism · 4 years ago

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Why Twilight Princess is the Best Zelda Game (To Me!)

Hey ya’ll,

I know I don’t really talk about video games that much. I really should though! Video Games have been a huge part of my life for pretty much as long as I can remember.

The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess is a game that means so much to me I can scarcely put it into words. I was 10 years old when this game came out, the perfect age in my opinion. I think if I had been any older or younger it might have slipped past my radar. Despite the game being rated T for Teen, my parents got it for me and my sister anyway which I think is pretty fucking rad.

Not that we really knew what we were in for, of course. I was just a kid. I didn’t read game reviews yet, and I didn’t have any friends who had played this game so I couldn’t ask them about it either. When we first popped that disc in and were brought to the main menu, we had absolutely NO idea just what kind of ride we were in for or how just how much this game would impact us.

Another thing I’d like to mention was how this game was introduced into my life at the perfect time. My sister and I had just moved schools. We were the new kids, and we had a lot of trouble adjusting and fitting in. There was definitely some teasing, maybe even some bullying. I don’t remember much from those days to be honest. But you know what I do remember? Playing Twilight Princess. This game was the perfect distraction from my crappy school life, and in a time where my sister and I barely had any friends, it was so comforting. We’ve always been close, but I think we bonded a lot over this game.

If you’re a gamer, you know this feeling; the feeling when you are currently playing a game that is just so fun, so amazing, so utterly addicting in the best possible way; that when you’re away from it it’s all you can think about. I distinctly remember my Dad installing the new TV which meant no Twilight Princess for a day or so. I was SO impatient and I just couldn’t wait for him to be done so I could continue playing it.

Even though I’ve now played Twilight Princess so many times that I could basically play it with my eyes closed (maybe lol) I still remember experiencing some of the best moments of the game for the very first time; running around Ordon Village, finding Midna, beating the first dungeon, finding out that GANONDORF was in the game! (Remember I had no way of knowing this at the time). Every big moment, every discovery, every heart-wrenching cut scene, it all felt so real and so important at the time. In a lot of ways, it still is.

Okay, so that’s the personal part. A bit long-winded, I know. I just thought it was important to include for this essay. But what is it about Twilight Princess that makes it so special? Why do I love it so much even after 15 years? (God that makes me feel old). This list isn’t really in a particular order but I will definitely be covering a lot of the BIG reasons why I adore this game so much. Oh, and in case you’re a little late to the party, there will be spoilers. Let’s go!

Darker and More Mature:

There’s something really enticing about being a kid, and witnessing something in a movie, video game, etc. that you know you probably shouldn’t have watched but you did anyway. Not only is Twilight Princess the only Zelda game to date that is Rated T (I’m pretty sure anyway), but it has some seriously dark and disturbing moments throughout the story; including one VERY creepy cut scene about halfway through the game that still haunts me a little to this day. Beyond that, you’ve got painful transformation sequences, characters being stabbed, characters sacrificing themselves, and a scene where I’m pretty sure Ganondorf’s neck just gets fucking broken. I can go on, but the point is this Zelda game does not screw around when it comes to showing intense moments and it’s all the better for it. I never felt the game went too far with it, but let’s say Twilight Princess definitely earned its T rating.

Wolf Form:

I’m sure people who haven’t even played TP know that this is probably the biggest defining feature. In this game, Link gains the ability to turn into a Wolf! I know some people might consider these parts of the game to be boring and not as fun, but I have always disagreed with that notion. I think it’s a really cool and out of the box way to break the somewhat repetitive gameplay of traditional Zelda games. There’s more of a puzzle-solving element to these Wolf sections, and I for one find it very satisfying to collect the Tears of Light. Turning into your Wolf form becomes essential, especially towards the latter half of the game when you need to complete tasks that you couldn’t normally do as a human. Plus…Wolf Link is pretty darn cute! His design is awesome too.

MIDNA!!!:

And speaking of Wolf Link, around the same time Link gains this ability he also meets a character who (in my opinion) is THE BEST Zelda sidekick/companion across all the games. She’s not annoying, she’s not boring; Midna is a 3-Dimensional, fully fleshed out character that plays a crucial role in the story. I can’t imagine anyone playing this game and NOT getting attached to Midna. I know I certainly did. In the first half of the game you don’t really know that much about her, but she is certainly helpful gameplay-wise and doesn’t just give you the same useless hint over and over. Plus, the SASS! My God, Midna is so sassy I love her so much. I love how she grows and changes and becomes a better person by the end of the story. Midna really deserves her own game!

A Beautiful Game:

Now obviously this doesn’t just apply to Twilight Princess. Most Zelda games are very beautiful, especially the more modern ones such as Breath of the Wild. However, there is something about the specific beauty of Twilight Princess that just takes my breath away. The scenery is just gorgeous everywhere you go. Ordon Village is beautiful, Hyrule Field is stunning, Snowpeak is captivating, the Fishing Hole is serene, you get the picture. And to top it all off, Twilight Princess STILL looks beautiful even after all these years. The graphics have aged really well which is certainly no hindrance. As a kid I always wished that some of the locations were real, and honestly, I still kinda do.

Best version of Ganondorf:

It’s funny; I don’t normally root for villains. I tend to gravitate towards more heroic characters or characters that are more similar to me. Ganondorf is certainly the exception; specifically the Ganondorf that we see in Twilight Princess. I remember being SO EXCITED when he first appeared in a cut scene after Arbiter’s Grounds. I don’t know if it’s the way he was introduced, the raspy laugh, or his character design, but I LOVE Ganondorf in this game. He is just so bad-ass, so cool, my only wish is that we saw a little bit more of him in TP. Regardless, every time he shows up in the game, he is a formidable and dominating screen presence. And I feel no shame whatsoever admitting that 10 year old Sam developed a massive crush on this Ganondorf. Is that weird? I dunno, but either way he is just so cool as well as a fantastic addition to an already perfect game.

The Soundtrack:

Again, it’s not unusual for a Zelda game to have a really fantastic soundtrack. The series has always had amazing music since the very first game. However, the music in Twilight Princess continues to entrance me even to this day. The Main Menu theme? Amazing. Midna’s theme? Amazing. Lake Hylia? Amazing. And don’t even get me started on those beautiful Wolf Songs you sing throughout the game. It’s just a beautiful soundtrack. To say it’s nostalgic for me is a massive understatement.

Dungeon Design:

Unsurprisingly, most Zelda games tend to recycle the same temple themes over and over again. You got your forest temple, your fire temple, water, desert, time, etc. These are definitely present in Twilight Princess, but there’s something about the way they’re designed and the way you move through them that just feels so unique and wonderful. I won’t name them but I’ve played other Zelda games where the dungeons felt like a horrible, tedious chore. With TP, I never felt that was the case. Every Dungeon is packed full of secrets, with plenty of interesting set pieces to explore. Even the water temple (YES, the Water Temple!) is enjoyable to play through. The Dungeons have tons of replay value as well, meaning that you can return later and find special items that you weren’t able to access before.

And just as a fun bonus, here’s my top nine list for the Twilight Princess Dungeon’s:

9) City in the Sky

8) Palace of Twilight

7) Hyrule Castle

6) Temple of Time

5) Lakebed Temple

4) Forest Temple

3) Snowpeak Ruins

2) Goron Mines

1) Arbiter’s Grounds

And that about wraps it up, folks! Sorry this was such a long essay, I had so much to say. It is, after all, my favourite video game ever. Of course it’s not technically perfect and it definitely has some flaws. But you know what? It’s perfect to me, and I’ll never get sick of it.

Thank you so much for reading! :) Listen to this track of the opening theme and tell me you don’t feel it in your SOUL!!!

youtube

#zelda #twilight princess #game review #my thoughts

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forgottenlivesobverse · 4 years ago

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Q&A with Paul Hanley

In the first of a series of Q&As with our contributors, we talk to Forgotten Lives' illustrator, fan favourite Paul Hanley.

What attracted you to this project?

It was really just a matter of Stuart Douglas reaching out and asking if he could use some old art I'd done of the Morbius Doctors, which I'd dashed out ages ago. They were just small bust portraits, and I'd always thought it'd be interesting to design full costumes for them (and even a few console rooms). So this seemed like the time to finally do it, being for a good cause (one of my best friends lost his dad to Alzheimer's at way too young an age).

These Doctors only exist in a couple of photos. How did you approach the way you depicted their characters? Well, for the REALLY long answer to that, people should check out my Patreon blog, where I did a 4-part series on the thought process that went into each one: FORGOTTEN LIVES, Pt 1... | Paul Hanley on Patreon But the short version is that I dug up every bit of ref I could (which almost turned into full-blown archaeology in Harper's case- it was thrilling to "crack the code" on that mystery, at least for the general public). Then I imagined a personality for each one (usually without much talk beforehand with the authors, though I did get a few notes on Hinchcliffe and Chris Baker that I was able to incorporate). I tried to work in as many crazy ideas and as much personality as I could, so that they looked like Doctors who each had their own rich eras with a lot of stories that'll (mostly) go untold. When I was a kid in the 80s... stuck in a sleepy town in the US, pre-internet and with only one bookstore in the whole city that seemed to sell DW books... you'd see these pics of Colin Baker or McCoy but have no context for them because their episodes and Target books hadn't made it over yet. You got some sporadic DWM issues with fragments of their comic adventures, if you were lucky. But in the pics they certainly looked like Doctors with a story to tell, so I think I was trying to recapture some of that.

Having drawn them all, which of the eight Doctors is your favourite? Arrgh- I feel so attached to all of 'em now! I guess the ones I'd most want to write stories for are Camfield and Harper. Hinchcliffe has the coolest look. And Holmes got the best TARDIS, for sure. I've had the idea of his rococo fairytale-style TARDIS in my head for ages, so it was nice to finally get that out.

Who would be your ideal casting for a pre-Hartnell Doctor? I think we'd still all love to see Richard O'Brien play the Doctor, right?

What other projects are you working on at present? Well, there's my ongoing comic, THE UNTHINKABLES, which I started putting out digitally earlier this year. That's something I make with JUDGE DREDD's Ian Richardson, and I guess it's what you'd call a darkly satirical take on the world's needy (and probably unhealthy) love affair with superheroes. Every superhero drops dead by the 4th page of issue #1, and the villains and ordinary humans are left to sort themselves out. We've got a Kickstarter for a "director's cut" print run that's on its last 33 hours as I write this (now fully funded and we're a few hundred short of our final stretch goal): www.kickstarter.com/projects/uhstudios/unthinkables If that ship's sailed by the time this goes up, just follow the link on the page that takes ya to Unlikely Heroes Studios, our publisher. I've also got another series hopefully coming next year, MISS MEDUSA'S MONSTROUS MENAGERIE, that I co-created with my pal Matt Frank (mostly known for GODZILLA, MARS ATTACKS and a whole slew of other geeky licensed comics and art gigs). It was supposed to be out this year, but COVID-19 nuked those plans. It's a comic I think the Who fans will especially love (it's even set in the last months of 1963!). We've teased a few bits of art and writing out for it already, and the response has been great.

#paul hanley #forgotten lives #morbius doctors #obverse books #the brain of morbius #doctor who #drwho #doctorwho #dr who

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the-yellowturtle · 4 years ago

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The Curious Case of Master Katara (Pt.3)

Summary: In the sixth year of Fire Lord Zuko’s reign, Katara of the Southern Water Tribe is assassinated. (OR: Katara Becomes the Painted Lady! AU)

Chapter Summary: Sokka reacts to Katara’s passing.

Part 1 (Toph), Part 2 (Toph & Gran Gran), AO3 Story Link, & special thanks to @levitatingbiscuits for enabling this :)

The Surprising Origins of the Squiggle Meme

Xin Jizhe

Omashu Times News Reporter

You’ve seen it. Your mom has seen it. Spirits, even your pet fire-ferret has probably seen it! The latest comparison meme that’s often paired with the caption, “Ink Brush Painting is My Passion” is everywhere! However, the origins of the painting are much more heartfelt than you could have ever imagined.

The physical copy of the painting is currently hosted in the Caldera City Art Museum as part of the “Heroes of the Hundred Year War” collection. According to the museum’s website, it was painted by Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe as an outline for the paintings that would appear in his picture book about his younger sister, Master Katara, who had been assassinated by extremists in 106 AG. The paintings used in the published copy of the story are also available for viewing in the Caldera City Art Museum.

(Fun Fact: The official versions were painted by his wife, Suki of Kyoshi Island. Yes! That Suki! The one and only President Suki that fought for Kyoshi Island’s right to self-determination, and became the third president!).

Anyway, back to the matter at hand! Sokka reportedly decided to publish the picture book about his sister as a reaction to the growing popularity of a woodblock print that depicted Master Katara in her last moments. Sokka wanted the world to remember his sister as she was living, not a romanticized image of her death.

Try to see this touching meme in real life before the collection ends this spring.

___

When Sokka hears from one of the shaken villagers that after being shot Katara vanished into thin air, he gets an inkling about where she really is. When another local presents the pendant of Katara’s necklace to him, the sinking feeling in his gut tells him that his suspicions may be correct. And when he gazes up at the full moon later that night, he knows for certain.

Katara is gone.

He doesn’t need to travel to the Spirit World to know this. It has happened before. Before his very own eyes and between his very own arms. Some people are not destined to rejoin the earth; some are destined to be among the Spirits. He can only hope that she didn’t suffer too much in her last moments; that it was quick.

When he looks up at the moon, up at Yue, he pleads, “Please take care of her for me.”

Yue is probably far too busy being a beautiful celestial goddess to listen every time he talks to her, but he thinks she’s listening this time. She has to be.

___

Sokka was in the Southern Water Tribe on break from his studies in Ba Sing Se when word came that something had happened to Katara in the Fire Nation. Something that had warranted a personal letter from the Fire Lord, and had turned Zuko’s normally pristine penmanship into a barely decipherable mess. Katara was missing.

Truthfully, at the beginning of the letter Sokka was not worried at all. Zuko had a knack for worrying and exaggerating, and Sokka was certain that Katara would be back from wherever she had wandered off to before he could even set sail for the Fire Nation. Katara had probably found some wayward child or koala-sheep that needed assistance along the way, and she was so caught up in being benevolent that she forgot to hawk Zuko.

But then his dad and him had gotten to the part of the letter that informed them eyewitnesses were claiming that Katara had been attacked. That someone had shot her with an arrow. That they had watched her be struck, fall back into the river, and never rise again. That Katara was missing. That Katara might be dead.

It took more than one person to restrain him from immediately running off to the Fire Nation. Not that dad was any help, frozen, rereading the words over and over and over again. Katara might be dead .

When preparing to depart from the Southern Water Tribe, Sokka had promised his family that he would bring Katara home safely. That he would find out what happened.

He only manages to keep one of his promises. And it’s the one he cared for the least. When his dad and Gran Gran meet him at port, red-eyed and bags heavy, they know with one glance at Sokka’s face.

“She’s gone,” Gran Gran states, gripping his arm.

Sokka presses the carved pendant into his father’s hand. “She is.”

___

At first, it’s easy to pretend. With all the international guests and foreign dignitaries flocking to the Southern Water Tribe to personally pay their respects, it’s easy to slip into the role of being just Sokka. There are people to accommodate and details to smooth over. The South needs a planner, so Sokka becomes the mastermind.

It becomes a mask he slips on and off. One moment he is only Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, the next he is Katara’s brother. When it becomes too much, one of their friends is there to comfort him or one of the guests is there to exasperate him. It’s easy at first; ignoring that nothing is ever going to be the same.

All things must come to an end, however, and the funeral is the same. The world must continue onwards, and gradually all of their friends return to where they are needed. When it’s only Gran Gran, dad, and him left, that's when the cracks begin to show.

It’s in the way that Gran Gran accidentally burns the sea prunes because she thought someone would be watching them when she was turned away. It’s in the way that dad leaves official correspondence from the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom off to the side of his desk because he thought someone else would be looking over them. It’s in the way that Sokka reaches into his pocket and is surprised to find a necklace pendant because sometimes he still thinks that she’s somewhere out there wearing it.

Their family already had cracks, but now they no longer had the glue as well. After their mom passed away, Katara had taken it upon herself to be what everyone had needed. An eight-year old had done everything she possibly could have to fill the gaping hole their mom had left. At twenty-two years old, Sokka still has no idea how she found the strength to do that. But Katara is gone now, and the cracks in their family have transformed into an unmeasurable crevasse.

___

Sokka quickly learns the crevasse encompasses the entire Southern Water Tribe. This becomes abundantly clear one afternoon when three of Katara’s students confront him at the docks.

Akia, the shortest of the three and a refugee from the Northern Water Tribe, speaks first, “Sokka, we have a request.”

“Sure, what’s up?” he responds, setting down his catch.

The three young women exchange glances before Aqpik, from one of the interior clans, says, “We were wondering if you would allow us to enter Master Katara’s private study.”

Sokka freezes. No one in their family has been in there since her passing. “Why would you need to do that?”

“Spring is coming, and that means so are the seasonal waterbending students. We need to be prepared for when they arrive, and Master Katara always kept the lesson plans and personal scrolls in her study,” Akia pleads.

He begins to respond before he’s abruptly cut off by Mirae, a mixed waterbender of Water and Earth descent. “Master Katara fought long and hard to revitalize Southern bending, we can’t let it die with her. We were all so close to being declared masters, and we can continue the tradition in her stead. We need to do this.”

Meeting her determined gaze, Sokka knows immediately that this conversation was only for propriety’s sake; Mirae would most definitely break in if his answer was anything but the one she wanted. It’s a look he had seen so many times on Katara’s very own face. He had been so caught up in remembering Katara as his sister that he had forgotten that she was so much more than that to the South. She was the one who had painstakingly travelled the world to bring back the South’s stolen heritage, and Sokka would never be able to live with himself if he was part of the reason her efforts became in vain.

“Of course, you can,” he replies, “But first there’s something I need to do.”

___

In the Southern Water Tribe, when someone passes away you offer them to the sea along with an assortment of their earthly possessions. The objects that would feel wrong for any other to use are submerged with them, and the objects that would be a shame to waste are passed on to those who need it most. There is no fear surrounding the usage of things the deceased have touched; to use one of their belongings is to honor their memory.

This ceremony is an essential step in the mourning process of the South, but the most important by far is the telling of stories. For it is through stories that a person’s life is truly seen and celebrated. It is through stories that they are remembered and may continue to be remembered generations after they are gone.

Sokka has a feeling that the stories about Katara will be told for so long it will become impossible to discern myth from truth. A part of him is satisfied knowing that others will appreciate the person she was long after he is gone, however, they will never have the privilege of actually knowing Katara. Future generations will hear about the Hundred Year War, the Avatar, and the restoration of Southern Bending, but they will never learn about the time she broke her wrist penguin sledding as an adult . They will remember Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, but they won’t remember Katara.

No, remembering Katara is up to them. It’s up to Sokka and Gran Gran and dad and the rest of the gang to remember who she was. This is why the night after his conversation with the waterbenders, Sokka brings Gran Gran and dad with him to go through Katara’s study. Katara may have been the glue of the family, but this does not mean that Sokka can’t be the rope.

At first, it’s quiet as they work together to sort through the rest of her belongings. Unsurprisingly, she had meticulously organized everything. The waterbending scrolls are divided by style and skill level, the letters by country of origin and sender, even the hanging art is suspended according to the changing of the seasons. Sokka feels antsy just looking at how neat it is.

Dad is the one to break the silence. “She’s always been like this,” he comments, looking around the room, “Even as a toddler, she was extremely insistent on things being returned to their proper place.”

Gran Gran chuckles. “I wouldn’t say always , Hakoda. She could get pretty messy at times.”

“I’m gonna have to disagree, Gran Gran. Even as kids, Katara would only get messy if she had a statement to make. Didn’t like the way I folded my clothes? Then she would throw them about. Didn’t want to go to bed? Then she would refuse to get washed.”

“Ahhh bath time, that was always such an adventure with you two,” Dad smiles.

Sokka scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I was the best bather! Katara was the one who would get water all over the place”

“Sokka,” Gran Gran grins, patting his shoulder, “You would run around naked and we would have to catch you. In Winter . Thank the Spirits, you never attempted to go outside.”

The conversation goes on like this for hours; the waterbending scrolls forgotten. They laugh and cry and tease and debate. They remember.

When the embers are low and the sun is on the horizon again, Sokka reaches into his pocket and freezes. The pendant.

He hesitates before slowly pulling it out and tracing the carved waves with his finger. “Gran Gran? Dad? Do you think we should have submerged this, too?”

It was often a thin line between deciding what objects were inseparable from the deceased, and what objects the living could not bear to part from. When the time had come to select the belongings for Katara’s funeral, Sokka had found himself unwilling to hand over the necklace. There was no object more symbolic of who Katara was as a person, Sokka was well aware of that. However, for as long as he could remember, Katara had always been there. Even when they were far apart with her scouring the world for Southern waterbending scrolls and him in Ba Sing Se furthering his engineering studies, they had written constantly and made frequent trips to visit each other.

Katara was his sister; she would always be his sister. He knows she is gone, probably gallivanting about the Spirit World with Yue and telling Spirits how to do their jobs, but he needs to hold onto this piece of her. Just for a little bit.

“No,” Gran Gran finally answers, “We shouldn’t have.” Sokka meets her unwavering gaze. “That necklace has always been worn by women with the conviction to do what was right. Surely, Katara will not be the last.”

___

Gran Gran , Sokka thinks to himself as he watches his daughter from afar flip one of the Northern boys over her shoulder, really was always right. Some parents would probably be concerned that their child is getting into fights during the Winter Solstice celebration, but if Sokka may say so himself, he and Suki are excellent parents and that boy most definitely deserved it.

Sokka’s instincts are proven to be correct when Senna comes to join him and Suki where they are waiting to watch the waterbending performance.

“That was a good throw, sweety. Great form,” Suki compliments, hugging their daughter to her side.

Senna huffs at the reminder of the event and promptly launches into what happened. “Those little tiger-seal shit eaters were saying Yuki shouldn’t have been given the main role because apparently it’s only for girls ,” she rolls her eyes, “So I informed them that eating snow is only for narrow-minded, sexist boys, those fucking iceholes.”

Being interested in architecture and mathematics, people often assume that Senna mostly takes after him in looks and personality. But the focus, fighting and cussing? That was all Suki. And the ferociousness for justice? That was most definitely from Katara.

He likes to think that she would be immensely proud of his daughter, the new owner of her necklace, for never backing down. Sokka certainly was. He’s sure that she would also be overjoyed to know that the storybending performances she had revived were flourishing and that her nephew had worked his butt off to earn one of the main roles. Funnily enough, the role of Katara.

Yuki had been nervous, going over his routine again and again these past few days to make sure it was perfect. He had only managed to calm down when Suki had given him her protective amulet for good luck, and Sokka had reassured him that Aunt Katara would be honored by his performance no matter what.

When the storybending officially begins, Sokka can only beam with pride as he watches his son flawlessly reenact the freeing of the earthbenders. Yuki has certainly come a long way from accidentally splashing his sister to manipulating a stream of water to look like coal soaring through the air. He wishes Katara was alive to see it, but a part of him gets the feeling that she knows.

Sokka is aware that the Painted Lady is out there somewhere running around trying to help those in need, but on nights like this when the moon is bright and the sky is full of lights, he gets this feeling . Even if he can no longer meet her, sometimes it feels like she’s still there.

So when the performance is over, and the kids are finally off to bed, he takes a moment to gaze up at the full moon. “I’m happy, I hope you are, too.”

#katara #sokka #water tribe siblings #atla fanfiction #katara & sokka #mine

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savannahsdrabbles · 4 years ago

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Ocean Song - Part Two

rating: PG summary: Marine biology student April O’Neil makes a startling discovery.

notes: An AU originally based off of the 2012 TMNT universe, but can be compatible with most versions of the characters. <3 2.8k words. A03 link can be found here. Also special thanks to @cloakedrabbit and @starfiretheninja for beta-reading!

While he considered himself fairly levelheaded, there were a lot of things that ticked Casey Jones off: The referee calling foul play when an opponent obviously deserved to be body slammed, the cafeteria workers skimping on tater tots (in no universe was four enough), and people being jerks to those who couldn’t defend themselves.

The worst feeling of all, however, was when people intentionally kept secrets from him.

From the moment April O’Neil had walked into homeroom that Monday, he could tell that she had something heavy weighing on her mind. The redhead had avoided his attention-seeking gestures and whispers throughout class, seemingly intent on doodling in her notebook and not paying the slightest amount of attention to the lecture. She rested her chin in her palm, arm forming a barrier that blocked her page from anyone who walked past. Even when Casey flicked a pencil onto her desk, her only response was to absentmindedly return the utensil and continue scribbling.

By the time lunch rolled around, Casey was nearly shaking with curiosity and frustration over the unknown. With one hand firmly gripping his sack lunch, the eighteen-year-old searched the sea of dark hair on the patio and in the cafeteria, and then finally stuck his head into the library – a first for him. Sure enough, April was tucked away at a table in the far corner of the reference section with her nose to a computer monitor and the same expression of deep thought on her face.

“Alright, Red. Spill.” April jolted when he dragged over a chair with a deafening screech and then flopped into it. Turning his lunch bag over on the table and scattering its contents, Casey shoved an apple towards the hand she was clutching the mouse with and then picked out a peanut butter granola bar to munch on. “I can tell you’re freaking out about something. Is it homework related, or what?”

“It’s nothing,” she muttered, quickly attempting to minimize the tabs she had open on the screen – though not before Casey caught a glance of the website.

“Mysteries of the Deep: Unexplained Open Ocean Phenomena,” Casey snorted, sending a spray of granola crumbs flying, and leaned over to elbow the girl playfully. “What, are you trying to find the loch ness monster or something? Cause I’m pretty sure that’s in Canada.”

To his surprise, April let out a hiss of pain and grabbed her ribs right where Casey had poked her. The smirk on his face instantly vanished, and Casey raised his hands in surrender. “Whoa – I didn’t mean to hit so hard – my bad! Are you okay?”

April’s face tightened for a moment as if she were going to argue, her brows arching into the sassy look that Casey was used to seeing whenever he whined about how useless math was, but then she heaved a sigh and dropped her hand from her side. The girl motioned for Casey to quiet down, and then stood up quickly to peer over the row of computers around them. Once she seemed satisfied that no one was nearby, the redhead relented. “I got attacked when I was diving last night.”

“Wait – what?!” Casey nearly inhaled his granola bar and had to pause for a moment to cough violently. “By what? A fish? Or one of the other divers?”

“Shhh!” the librarian hissed from across the room.

“Don’t freak out – I’m fine.” April waved a hand dismissively, and then launched into a whispered explanation of what had happened. Casey listened with a furrowed brow, constantly interjecting with questions and April constantly hissing at him to quiet down and listen so that they would not be overheard. “He’s at Hamato Labs right now – probably still on constant sedation watch until they decide what to do with him. Dad wanted me to just go back to school today like nothing had happened, but –”

“You keep calling it a ‘him’. Did you get a look at –”

“Ew – no, Casey! Gross!” April let out a muffled shriek of indignation and punched the boy in the shoulder, though her quivering lips betrayed the hint of a smirk that Casey instantly decided was worth the shoulder pain. “I could just TELL that it was a ‘he’. He gave off a ‘guy’ vibe, I don’t know. And maybe the other one, too – though I didn’t get as good of a look at him.”

Casey seemed to calm down at this, as he leaned back in his chair with a grin and kicked his legs up onto the table – which April quickly shoved off with a jerk of her head towards the librarian’s desk. “Alright, so what’s going to happen to ‘him’ now? Or wait – do you get to name him as a new species or something? Like the ‘genus turtle-us, April-us’, or whatever?”

April shrugged, her fingers tapping unconsciously on the notebook that Casey finally realized was in her lap. The spiral bound pages bore dozens of doodles from throughout the day, all bearing features of turtles with cartoonish expressions. Several words had been written and crossed out in the margins, which Casey read aloud.

“Raph-ale? Donatello?”

The girl snapped her notebook shut with a ‘PAP!’ seeming to just notice that he had been looking at it. “Art history homework – another college course. Anyway, I should probably get back to class now. Thanks for letting me ramble – it��s just a really weird situation and I’m actually kind of glad to talk about it with someone that isn’t another scientist.”

“Well, I am definitely not a scientist, so no problem,” Casey flashed a thumbs up as April began to gather her belongings. “So, when do I get to see him?”

April froze, her hands hovering over her backpack. “Excuse me?”

The boy lifted his head to double check that they were alone, and then leaned closer to April. “You tell me all about some bizarre-o turtle man that might end up being on National Geographic or something, and then you won’t let me see it? That’s pretty low, dude.”

“It’s not that I’m against you seeing him – it’s just that I’m more than likely not even supposed to be mentioning the fact of his existence to anyone outside of the research team. Any number of hippie organizations or other laboratories would spring at the chance to claim him. Besides – if we determine that whatever made him like this is the source of an imminent biological or ecological threat, the lab is going to want to keep it out of the public eye until they’ve discovered a solution.”

“C’mon!” Casey slung an arm over April’s shoulder to keep her from standing up and leaving the table. “I won’t tell anyone! I promise – I just want to get a quick peek! It’s not every day that a kaiju saves your girlfriend – ”

“I am in no way, shape or form your girlfriend, and if you ever say that again I will punch you in the throat.”

“- from a squid! Come on – please?” Casey clasped his hands in a praying position and stuck out his bottom lip. “Please please please please please – I won’t stop until you say yes – please?”

April observed him for a moment with an expression of disgust, and then let out a deep sigh, earning a whoop of approval and a loud ‘Shhhhh!’ from the direction of the librarian’s desk. “Fine. I’m heading back to the lab after school anyway. You drive, and I’ll get my dad to sign off on letting you in with me.”

“Alright, all aboard the Jonesmobile, woo woo – ow! Why did you hit me?!”

***

The rest of the day went off without a hitch – though April would be the first to admit that she was less than focused during class. All she could think about was her interaction with the turtle, and the bubbling feeling in her stomach that occurred when she considered the fact that she would get to see him again that afternoon. Casey showed signs of distraction as well – though that was fairly normal for him. April made a mental note to ensure that he was getting his homework done and turned in.

When the last bell finally rang, the two teenagers hurried out to Casey’s old Jeep and gunned it to Hamato Laboratories. A quick knock on Dr. O’Neil’s door with no response told them that he was tied up on the phone, so the two decided to head towards the labs anyway.

“I don’t think they’ll let you into the actual exam room without my dad present, but you’ll probably be able to at least look through the glass,” April explained as the two rode the elevator down to the lower floors. Several marine biologists and lab technicians passed them on their way down, each stopping to ensure that April was doing well after the incident the day before.

“Didn’t you say he’d probably be unconscious or sedated or whatever?” Casey asked. He looked thoroughly out of place in the sleek laboratory building, all skinny jeans and beat up hoodie in contrast to the white lab coats and slacks worn by almost everyone they passed. Even April had grabbed her monogramed coat from the locker area before boarding the elevator and had thrown her hair up into a bun. Despite this, the eighteen-year-old still carried himself with an air of utter ease and confidence that April couldn’t help but respect. “Is that because he hurt you?”

April hesitated before answering. “Not specifically? It’s typically a standard procedure to sedate larger animals – particularly if they’re not reacting well to the lab environment. That way if they lash out, they’re less likely to hurt themselves or anyone else. But I could tell that he wasn’t trying to hurt me yesterday – it was just an accident.” She rubbed a hand on her side and grimaced slightly as her fingertips traced the tender bruises. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t easy explaining that to my dad. He still thinks that I was freaking out and imagined a lot of what I saw and felt.”

“How can you be sure that you didn’t?”

April’s eyes snapped to Casey’s as the elevator let out a ‘ping’ to alert them that they were nearing the correct floor. “Excuse me?”

Casey shrugged. “Nothing against you, but while this thing is cool and big and stuff, isn’t it possible that you kind of hallucinated him being… human-ish? I mean – maybe it didn’t really know that it was helping you?”

“No. He knew that he was helping me.” The words she spoke swelled with utter confidence that dimmed Casey’s doubts. “I just know it. You’ll see.”

Right as the words left her mouth, the elevator doors opened into a stark white hallway offset by the dark cement floor beneath it. Pipes and power lines ran the length of the ceiling in either direction, the whirring that they produced being the only sound in the otherwise quiet hallway. As the duo stepped out of the elevator, the motion activated lights immediately kicked on and flooded the halls with a dim light. A dozen heavy doors lined the walls, each accompanied by a keycard lock and a glass window to allow observation from outside. At the very end of the hallway, a large set of double doors beneath a glowing ‘Exit’ sign signaled the entrance to the garage through which creatures were delivered.

“Welp. I’m pretty sure we are going to get murdered in this hallway.”

April snorted and grabbed for Casey’s wrist, dragging him down the hallway towards Exam Room D. “C’mon, don’t be a baby.”

“I’m not. This… just looks like a hallway that someone in Saw would get murdered in.”

“Wuss.”

***

Despite her words of reassurance, April couldn’t help but feel on edge as well. She had grown up visiting labs with her dad and following him around as he worked. The smells of antiseptic and metallic surfaces were woven through her earliest memories, combined with days spent happily watching fish moving about in their tanks as her father helped to rehabilitate everything from enormous seals to tiny starfish. Such laboratories were what inspired her love of science and biology, and had always served as a safe place in her memories.

But even as she swiped her keycard and pushed open the door to the correct exam room, her recently donned lab coat rustling quietly around her, she could tell that something was very… off.

Casey stuck close behind, the warning of staying by the observation window clearly forgotten – or ignored - as the two walked hesitantly into the dimly lit room. April noticed that the main lights had been turned off – not unusual for when researchers dealt with deep sea or photosensitive creatures – and the only light being offered was from the panels that hung around the examination tables and over the door that led out to the loading dock. Filtered water gurgled in several tanks around the room, adding to the illusion that the room might have been located underwater or someplace hidden away from the rest of the world.

“Dude,” Casey murmured quietly. “I didn’t expect this place to be so creepy.”

“It’s not, usually,” April felt a palm along the white walls until she found the light dimmer and adjusted it just enough that they had a bit more light.

“Holy crap. You weren’t joking about how big he is.”

A large glass cage, usually reserved for seals, stood in one corner of the room. The bottom of the cage had been lined with a layer of sand, which had apparently been kicked up by the creature quietly whining and shifting inside of it.

The turtle within was currently laying on its side with his armored back to the two teenagers and one leg stretched at an uncomfortable angle as it seemed to be attempting to pull itself completely into the far corner of the container. A closer look told them that the turtle had been shackled, a large iron chain around its left leg prohibiting him from crawling into his shell.

“Yeah – he actually seems smaller than I remembered…” The red head hesitantly took a step forward, eyes watching as the turtle took a shuddering breath and twitched. He didn’t seem to have noticed their arrival yet – proving the recent sedative to be quite effective. “When he was moving around in the water I could have sworn he was taller than I was, but now he doesn’t even look five feet tall!”

“Tall or not, he looks kinda dead,” Casey suddenly strode forward to stand beside April and pressed one hand to the glass, tapping lightly with his knuckle. “Wake up, dude!”

“I doubt that will do anything, Casey – he’s really drugged up at the mo-”

As if on cue, the turtle jerked in its sleep and flailed momentarily in the sand, eliciting quiet shrieks of surprise from the two observers. They both leapt backwards as the turtle rolled itself onto all fours, limbs still trembling from sleep and head shaking this way and that as the creature attempted to orient itself. There was a moment of silence as he seemed to suddenly remember his predicament, and then the turtle caught sight of April and Casey.

Eyes shrinking to pinpricks, the turtle let out a squawk of terror and scrabbled backwards on his hands and rear end until the chain grew taut and he couldn’t retreat any further, chest heaving and eyes flicking in every direction as he searched for a way out. With a jolt, April watched as the turtle threw his body sideways against the glass and clawed at the walls. The laboratory room echoed with sounds of distress as the creature began to click and squawk frantically.

“Uh – do we need to go get somebody?” the dark-haired boy pressed both hands to his ears and furrowed his brow. “’Cause he doesn’t seem to be very happy about being in there!”

“We should probably get one of the lab technicians to administer another dose of sedative,” April nodded her head back towards the door, though her eyes remained on the turtle. The creature was still clicking loudly as it balled its hands into fists and beat them against the glass. “The walls should be strong enough to hold him, but he might hurt himself if he keeps freaking out!”

“Sounds good to me!”

The girl motioned for Casey to follow her, backing slowly away from the turtle and reaching out for the door handle. As they backed away, the noise seemed to falter and then suddenly -

“Help!”

April froze, her hand inches from the doorknob, and then turned to meet Casey’s round brown orbs. “Did you-?”

“Help!”

The two stared at each other silently for a heartbeat, and then slowly turned to face the panting terrapin. The creature’s amber eyes had tracked them across the room, and now locked onto April’s own eyes with an intensity she had never seen before.

“Crap,” Casey murmured under his breath. “What did you - ?”

“Tasukete kudasai!” The turtle pressed his trembling palms against the glass, eyes round and searching as they moved to meet Casey’s. “Help! Out!”

Next Chapter

#tmnt #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt 2018 #tmnt 2012 #savannah drabbles #nickelodeon #sea turtles au

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darks-ink · 5 years ago

Text

Absurdism Chapter 14

You ever discover that your half-ghost mentor was a complete disaster all along? also look i finally added first/previous/next chapter links hooray

Rating: Teen/K+ (a lil swearing, because teenagers, man) Warnings: - Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort Additional Tags: Sibling Bonding, Family Bonding, Alternate Universe - Halfa Jazz AU, Jazz makes friends

[AO3] [FFN] [more Absurdism on Tumblr] First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

---

Chapter 14: Pirate Radio

“You’re the worst little sister in the history of little sisters,” Danny grumbled without heat. He moved, slumping further into the cushions of the couch.

Jazz snorted. “I can’t possibly be that bad.”

“No, you are.” He somehow buried himself even further. “I bet no one else has to worry about their little sister finding and befriending an alternate universe of themselves, the older sibling.”

“That’s just an inherent risk of being a Fenton, Danny,” Jazz pointed out, quirking an eyebrow at him even if he couldn’t see it. “You’ll have to blame our parents for that, not me.”

“Counter-argument. The befriending part is definitely a you thing.”

She blew a raspberry at him. “Like you wouldn’t have made friendly with an alternate universe version of me, given the chance.”

Danny hummed. “Not if she was as annoying as you.”

“Rude.” She reached over to swat at his shoulder. “I’m stronger than you, you know?”

He made a derisive noise.

“You suck,” she told him, sitting down properly again. “I’m leaving.”

Just as she shifted to the edge of the couch, however, their parents appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Hey kids,” her dad boomed, pushing his way in first. “We have talk to you two.”

Jazz’ core whirred nervously. Uh oh. That didn’t sound good.

Her mom stepped in after Dad, holding… oh no, was that the Ghost Finder? Shoot, she didn’t realize that they had built another one.

“Jack,” Maddie said, softly, holding up the invention. He leaned over to look on the screen and frowned.

Danny, next to her, had pushed himself into a sitting position again. He nudged her, gently, in a rather sad attempt at comfort.

It helped, though.

“Huh.” Jack turned to frown at her and Danny, but he was clearly still looking at the Finder from his peripherals. “That’s strange.”

Maddie clicked her tongue, then nodded. She lowered the invention again, and looked at Jazz and Danny directly. “What we wanted to talk about, kids, were the events of a few days ago.”

“That weird ghost sickness slash contamination thing?” Danny asked, his confusion not sounding quite genuine enough. “Why? What about it?”

“It… opened our eyes, I suppose you could say.” Her mom moved, perching on the arm of the armchair in front of her and Danny. “For years, we believed that humans and ghosts were entirely separate entities. Even if a human could become a ghost, it was a binary process. You were either fully human, or fully ghost. Those two states couldn’t be blended, not in the least. Or so we thought.”

“But those kids at the school, they all had ghost-like powers because of their contamination,” Jack continued. “But they hadn’t gone through the entire process, hadn’t made the full transition to a ghost. Which made us realize… If they could be humans with ghost-like abilities, caused by some sort of ectoplasmic contamination… Anyone else could be, too.”

“And I don’t think anyone could deny the similarities between Phantom and Specter and our children,” Maddie finished off. “In hindsight, it was glaringly obvious. Only…”

Jazz huffed out a laugh. “But only one of us shows up on the scanner, huh?”

“It makes no sense!” Jack blurted out, waving a hand at the invention. “By that logic, I could imagine that Specter’s core is too young, not mature enough, to show up, assuming it gets muted by her… human form? But, no, it’s Danny who appears fully human! Only minor ecto-contamination.”

“Which is obviously the fault of him not wearing proper protection when in the lab, young man,” Maddie chided.

Danny made a face. “Everything in this house is contaminated anyway. What’s the point of protecting yourself in the lab if the kitchen is almost as bad? Never mind all the food.”

Jazz swatted at him. “Danny, can we please focus on the serious conversation?” She turned to their parents. “Look, it’s… complicated.”

“God, did he train you to use that as an answer or do you two just spend that much time together?” Danny complained, pushing her with his shoulder. To their parents, he said, “Your scanner is right, I’m no more ghostly than you two. Jazz has a core, but she’s more human than ghost, I think. She defaults back to human when she falls asleep, anyway.”

“It’s his go-to answer for everything,” she explained with a roll of her eyes. “But, yes. I’m half-ghost. I think that it’s a pretty even balance, but, well. While human—alive—is my standard state of being, my core never goes away entirely. It gets… what did you call it, muted? I guess that that’s a good word for it. It’s weaker in human form, which makes it harder to use my powers, but it’s not impossible. I’m always a little ghostly in human form, and a little human in ghost form.”

Maddie nodded, slowly, her brow creased in thought. “So then… who is Phantom? He looks…” She trailed off, looking at Danny.

“Yeah, it’s complicated.” Jazz bit her lip, looking between her three family members. The conversation seemed to be going alright, but… having someone with more experience with this present would be a help. A comfort, if nothing else. “I can go get him? He can probably explain it better than I can.”

Her parents frowned, but nodded their permission anyway. Jazz stood up, then hesitated.

“I, uh. Do you mind if I shift into my ghost form here, or should I leave first?”

They shared a look—more like a silent conversation—before Maddie licked her lips and said, carefully, “No, go ahead. It would be… good. To see, I mean.”

“Right.” Jazz nodded back, then tugged on her core, ignoring her racing heartbeat. The transformation washed over her in a brief flash of light, and she grinned at her parents, unsure. “Tah-dah?”

“Wow,” Jack breathed. Both of them were clearly stunned. “Years of research disproven, just like that.”

She hesitated, and Maddie must’ve realized why, because she waved a hand. “Go find Phantom, honey. We just… It’s one thing to know, and another to see.”

Of course. She knew that, didn’t she? That was why she was so thrown off whenever she saw Phantom in his human form.

“Yeah,” she said, letting herself float a little. “I’ll be right back, then.”

Jazz turned herself invisible—ignoring their startled noises—and phased out of FentonWorks. Look, she had nothing to hide to them, but it would be suspicious if people saw her!

Luckily Phantom hadn’t left for patrol yet, lounging on a nearby rooftop. He jerked upright when he saw Jazz, immediately shifting into his ghost form. “Jazz?”

“Hey, so, uh.” Suddenly she felt a little silly. Surely she and Danny could’ve handled this alone? But she was here now, and her parents wanted to see Phantom, so… “Um. My parents figured out my secret? Apparently they had another ghost scanner, but now they’re confused because their son is human, and they wanted to know who Phantom was? Could you, uh, come along?”

Phantom’s expression had grown increasingly uncomfortable as she spoke, but he still nodded after she finished talking. “Yeah, sure. How did they… react?”

“It was…” She considered it. “Not that bad, I guess? But maybe they haven’t quite processed it yet. I figured they would be okay with it, anyway, so it’s not that surprising.”

“If you thought they would accept you, why…” He paused, dusting off his jumpsuit rather pointlessly. Stalling for time, she figured. “Why didn’t you tell them sooner?”

She shrugged. “I wanted them to change their minds about ghosts. Specter, and later Phantom, were the easiest examples of ghosts doing good, and I thought that they would blame everything on us being part human if they knew.”

“That… makes sense.” He sighed, combing a hand through his hair. “Well, let’s go, then.”

The two of them flew back to FentonWorks, not turning invisible now. They phased through the front wall, directly into the living room, drawing the attention of the three people still present there.

Jazz landed in front of the couch, shifting back to her human form. Phantom kept his distance, however, and looked rather uncomfortable.

“You’re half-ghost too?” Jack guessed, gesturing at the Ghost Finder that Maddie still held. “The Finder suddenly started picking up your core, like something had been muting it but stopped.”

Phantom nodded, hesitantly. “I am.”

Maddie was staring at him with narrowed eyes. “But you look and sound almost exactly like Danny. I can’t imagine that there’s anybody in Amity that looks so similar to my son.”

That made Phantom shuffle even more uncertainly.

“Phantom,” Danny said, still on the couch. “Just tell them, man. Shift back.”

The half-ghost made a face, but did as asked. Light flashed, the ring of energy passing over him, and he thudded back onto the ground. Jazz was glad to see that Phantom had borrowed some of Danny’s clothes, so he didn’t look quite as ragged anymore.

Phantom grinned at Jack and Maddie, and, man. Jazz could feel the awkwardness in the atmosphere.

“Tah-dah?” he offered, opening his arms as if he were showing off an outfit.

“Jazz already did that,” Danny commented from behind her, and she kicked him in the shin. “Ow, Jazz, jeez. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

Jack made a noise that not even Jazz could decipher, then said, “So. Complicated, huh?”

“I am so tired of that word,” Danny muttered, and Jazz kicked him again. “Ah! Are you taking lessons from Sam or something?!”

Phantom snorted, then immediately straightened out, having drawn everyone’s attention back to him.

Jazz waited for him to speak up, but after a few moments of silence, cleared her throat. “So… You want to explain your complicated situation, Phantom?”

“I, uh. Yeah. Right.” He shuffled his feet, looking wildly uncomfortable. Seriously, it was a little weird, but it couldn’t be that much worse than when he told his secret to his own parents, right?

Unless… he had never told his secret to his own parents?

But that would be crazy, right?

“So, I’m, um.” Phantom ran a hand through his hair, running it all the way over his head until it ended up in his neck. “I’m… Danny Fenton. From another universe.”

“Apparently he’s the younger sibling and half-ghost,” Danny added when Phantom stopped talking. “He had photos with himself and his own Jazz, and she was like, eighteen.”

“But how did he—” Maddie paused, turned back to Phantom. “How did you get here?”

Phantom shrugged, uncomfortable now that the attention was on him again. “I, um. Natural portals form in the Ghost Zone all the time, but they don’t just connect to the regular human world. They can go to any place and any time on Earth, and, apparently, to different universes as well. I accidentally flew through one and… I thought I was back in Amity, so I didn’t try to go back.”

“And portals are too finicky to reliably travel back through,” Jack realized, snapping his fingers. “That’s why you stuck around! But I don’t understand… Wasn’t your home… don’t you miss it? Wouldn’t you want to go back?”

“Of course I want to go back!” Phantom snapped, suddenly, his eyes flaring green. “I want nothing more than to go home! But there’s no point in risking life and limb by diving through portal after portal, hoping to find it! If I just stay in one place, they will find me! I just…” The green faded away, his voice petering off into near-silence. “I just have to wait. They’ll come.”

“Because Sam and Tucker and your Jazz are looking, right?” Jazz asked, softly. “What about your parents? Wouldn’t they go looking for you?”

“I…” Phantom jerked his head. “Of course they’ll be looking for me! Just not—”

“They don’t know,” Danny said. “You never told them your secret. That’s why you were so hesitant to tell me what was going on, and why you’re acting weird now. You’re helping Jazz tell her parents, when you never told yours.”

Phantom made a face but nodded.

“But you. You’ve had your ghost powers for two and a half years!” It felt like her core had frozen in her chest. How had he gone so long without telling his parents? Had they held off on changing their minds for so long? Or…

Or was he genuinely scared that they might hurt him? That they would hate him for being half-ghost?

“Yeah, well.” Phantom shrugged, weakly. “My only comparison is the guy who’s gone twenty-two years without telling anyone about his powers, so.”

“We both know he’s a terrible example in every way,” Jazz scolded. “Seriously, Phantom… Danny. You could’ve told me. You didn’t have to come.”

“It’s… fine.” He looked up again, eyes wandering to Jack and Maddie. “I… I probably should’ve told mine ages ago. I’m glad you didn’t… didn’t.”

She huffed out a breath, scrambling over the couch to get closer to him. “That’s what you’re doing the whole time, isn’t it? You’re not just telling me what I’m dealing with, but you’re specifically aiming to have me avoid making the same mistakes you made.”

Jazz wrapped her arms around him, and, after a moment of stiffness, Phantom hugged her back. “Wouldn’t you?” he asked her, head pressed in her hair. “If you saw your sibling, so young and innocent, before they had made any of your mistakes. Wouldn’t you stop them, too?”

“You never said anything,” she told his shoulder. “I had no idea how bad it was, Danny. You should’ve told me! You’re not alone, not here.”

“I’m never alone.” He sniffled, but she didn’t comment. “I have Sam, and Tucker. And my own Jazz. I have Wulf, sometimes when I can find him, and Frostbite. Clockwork, even, if it’s really important.”

A warm bulk reached over Jazz to clap Phantom on his shoulder. She wrenched an eye upwards, meeting her dad’s eye. “Danny, kiddo. I don’t know your parents, but I can tell you with absolute certainty that family is the most important to us Fentons.” The other hand landed on Jazz’ shoulder. “Part ghost or not. My kids are my kids, and I love them with all my heart.”

“I… I know,” Phantom murmured back, keeping his head turned down. “But it’s just… hard. To hear them speak so badly of ghosts, of Phantom, and know. Know that that’s me they’re talking about. Even if I know, rationally, that they wouldn’t feel that way if they knew it was me.”

“Is that why you never told us, Jazz?” Maddie asked, laying a warm hand on Jazz’ other shoulder. “Because you were so scared?”

She shrugged, only a little so she wouldn’t throw off the comforting hands. “I… No, of course not! I wanted— wanted you two to change your opinions on ghosts, first, because it would be easier! Not because I was…” It felt like her throat was clogged up. She sniffled. “Yeah… Yeah, a little bit, I think. I just didn’t want to…”

“You didn’t want to admit that that was why,” Phantom finished for her. She couldn’t see his expression from where she was pressed against him, but he sounded like he was tearing up. “So you reasoned around it. Because you couldn’t be scared of your parents, not really! They didn’t mean it like that! But you were. Scared, that is.”

“Oh, honey,” her mom said, and suddenly another warm body pressed against her. Maddie’s arms wrapped around her, and by extension, around Phantom. “Oh, I’m so sorry that we made you feel that way. That you felt like you couldn’t tell us even some of this, that we were so set in our ways that you had to hide all of that. And that…”

Maddie’s hair brushed against Jazz’ cheek, as Maddie turned to look at Phantom. “And that it was so bad that, if we hadn’t figured it out ourselves, we wouldn’t have known for another two years, at least. That you would’ve been forced to hide yourself—yourselves—from us for so long.”

Then, suddenly, their hug collapsed. Jazz teetered for a moment, before she was drawn against her mom. She blinked in surprise, then realized what had happened.

Phantom stood several steps away. He must’ve turned himself intangible to escape from the hug.

“I’m glad you’re all talking this out okay,” he said, his posture stiff but his voice wavering. “But I… I’d better get going. This isn’t… my place.” He nodded at Danny, who uncertainly stood in front of the couch. “I. Yeah. Later.”

“Wait, Phantom!” Jazz shrugged off her mom’s arm, stepping closer to Phantom again. “Will you… Are we still meeting for training? Maybe not tomorrow, but… next week?”

He hesitated, visibly, before nodding. “Yeah, I… of course. I’ll…” He grinned, clearly fake. “I’ll check your homework then, alright?”

“Yeah, sure.” She wanted to stop him, wanted to help him, make him feel better, but… her own parents came first. He understood that, right? He would’ve done the same, had their roles been reversed.

Still, her core wavered in her chest, upset, and her heart felt like a clump of ice.

“I’m sorry we upset him,” Maddie said, tugging on Jazz’ arm again. “We didn’t mean to, Jazz. Upset either of you.”

“I know.” She wiped a hand over her eyes, shocked to find them wet. “I always knew that you cared, Mom, Dad. That my fear wasn’t… wasn’t rational. And Phantom is… He’s been upset for a long time, I think.”

“He misses his home,” Danny added, finally speaking up again. “When I talked to him with Sam and Tucker, he could barely look at them. He’s been here for months, waiting for them to find him.”

Jack’s arm wrapped around her shoulders again. “He’s worried that they might never find him,” he concluded. “That he’ll be forced to stay in world where he can’t see any of his loved ones ever again. That sounds like a Fenton’s worst nightmare.”

“Yeah,” Jazz agreed, leaning back against her dad’s massive bulk. “I can’t imagine… And his parents don’t even know… Can’t imagine why he disappeared like that.”

“At least we’ll know.” Maddie’s arm snaked around Jazz’ shoulders too, joining Jack’s. “If you ever disappear… God. It could’ve happened to us.” Her eyes were watering, too. “It’s been months since Specter’s first appearance, and we only discovered by coincidence. We could’ve… It could’ve been years before we changed our minds enough for you to tell us on your own.”

“If ever,” Jack mumbled, grimly. “If we ever got evidence convincing enough to break us from years of bias.”

Jazz just pressed closer. She wasn’t sure if her parents ever would’ve changed enough for her to feel confident about telling them, no matter what she said.

Somewhere, she was glad that they had found out on their own. She might’ve put it off forever, otherwise.

---

“Jazz,” Phantom said, grinning at her when she touched down in their clearing. “It’s been a while. How have things been?”

“They’re…” Rough. Her parents are struggling, it’s a lot to wrap their minds around. They’re trying but it’s hard. “Fine. Things have been fine.”

He nodded, already turning around. “Good. I’m… glad to hear so.”

Ah, so they were not going to talk about the other thing. Well. She supposed she could give him that much, at least.

“Weren’t you going to check my homework?” she asked, lightly.

Phantom paused. Turned back around. “Did you do it, then?”

“It was homework, Phantom. What do you think?”

His lips quirked up in a smile. It felt genuine, this time. “Should’ve figured. The trick to training you was homework all along.”

“I thought it was fine before now, too.” She shook her head, but smiled. “Anyway, you wanted me to test for elements I felt connected to. Now what?”

“Uh uh uh,” Phantom said, waving a finger. “First you have to give me your homework. So, tell me. Any elements you felt positive—or negative—about?”

“Well, I dunno. I didn’t feel a very strong connection to anything, to be honest,” she admitted, ignoring the way her core clenched. It wasn’t a personal failure, she was sure of that, but it still felt that way. “But… I think electricity was… okay? Better than the other stuff?”

He nodded, and she felt her core relax a little. “You haven’t been exposed to a lot of elemental ectoplasmic attacks, so your core might’ve prioritized learning neutral abilities over elements. Electricity makes sense, though. It was my first one, too, and it’s useful for a variety of purposes.”

Good. She liked the sound of that. “Okay, so, again. Now what?”

“We need to nudge your core into developing affinity for that element.” Phantom paused, then made a face at her. “This is going to sound really bad, but we’ll need to expose you to the element in question to do that.”

“What, like… like electrocuting me?”

“Not that rough, but…” He shrugged. “Kinda, yeah. Low voltage, closer to a static charge than something that would really hurt you.”

She grimaced. “Then why didn’t I develop an affinity for electricity sooner? I get static shocks constantly!”

“Needs to be ectoplasmic electricity,” Phantom explained with another shrug. “I got hit by Plasmius’ electric attacks all the time, and some other ghosts used them too. Technus, for example, or Walker’s right-hand man.”

He waved her over and, reluctantly, she joined him. “I’ll tell you right now, I don’t like this.”

“We can… not do it, you know?” Phantom laid his hands on her shoulders, lowering his head so he could meet her gaze. “Seriously, Jazz, it’s no big deal. You don’t need elemental attacks. If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to. I’m not gonna force you into anything.”

She sighed, wrapping one of her hands around Phantom’s. “I know, Phantom. It’s… Well, not fine, but it’s okay. I’d rather do this with someone I trust than get shocked by an enemy until I develop this power.”

Phantom remained silent for a moment, before asking, quietly, “You trust me?”

“Oh, Danny.” She pressed her head against his shoulder, wrapping her free arm around his shoulders. “Even if you’re not my brother, you’re still my family. You’ve been taking care of me for months, protecting me and making sure I would be fine even when you left. Of course I trust you.”

He drew his arms in closer, until they were wrapped around her neck instead of settled on her shoulder. Buried his head in her hair again. “If,” he said quietly. “If I ever leave.”

“Don’t say that,” she chastised, awkwardly patting him on the back. “Of course they’ll find you, and bring you back to your universe, and everything will be fine! You can tell your parents and they’ll accept you, too, and you’ll be okay. Maybe… Maybe the time is weird! That’s a thing, right, with the portals? Maybe your universe is just going way slower than mine, and your friends are looking for you, but it just hasn’t been that long yet!”

“Heh.” Phantom’s breath whistled through her hair, mussing it up. “You know… I hadn’t even considered that option yet.”

“Well, that’s what you have me for, right?” She turned her head to grin up at him. “I’m the smart sibling, after all.”

He barked out a surprised laugh, drawing away from her a little. “Yeah, I guess you are. Now come on, smarty-pants, you’re not getting out of training that easy.”

Phantom moved a full step back, until the only contact they had left were their linked hands. Then he lifted his free hand, offering it back to her.

Jazz bit her lip, then took the hand. “We’re making a loop? For the current to run through?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, tightening his grip comfortingly. “Tell me if this feels weird, okay?”

“Okay.” A tingling feeling started running down her arms, buzzing, hot and cold simultaneously. It danced through her veins, down her arms and into her chest and, oh. Her core whirred, like it was soaking up the energy. “Is it… My core is absorbing it, I think? Is that… bad?”

“It’s fine,” Phantom assured her. “That’s confirmation of an elemental affinity, by the way. Your core is accepting it, and processing it. We’ll keep to this level of power, give it the time to figure it out.”

She nodded, trying to focus on the energy running through her. On her core, soaking up all the power that Phantom was offering it.

“Say,” Phantom said, after a long moment of silence, “have you ever thought about getting a logo of your own?”

“A… logo?” She quirked a brow at him. “What, for my jumpsuit? Like yours?”

“Yeah!” He nodded towards his chest, like she could’ve missed the vivid white logo. “It’s kind of a superhero staple, you know.”

Jazz snorted. “No thanks.”

“Why not?” he prodded, shaking their arms. “We’ve got a while, anyway. Might as well talk through it, right?”

“If you insist. First of all, it’s tacky. Just not my sort of thing. And second of all…” She kicked him in the foot, gently. “I’m not a hero, Danny, just trying to help.”

“Looks like a hero from where I’m standing.” He jumped when she tried kicking him again, legs merging into a whispy tail. “From where I’m floating,” he corrected, childishly.

Jazz rolled her eyes. Secretly, she was glad to see him bantering, though. Even if it was just a cover for his homesickness… it served a distraction, at least. “Who’s the older sibling here?”

“Technically neither of us is,” he pointed out. “Even if I’m older than you, I spent almost my whole life being the annoying younger brother.”

“You make a good older brother, though.” She stiffened slightly as she realized she said that out loud. Ah, no, too sappy! “You’re a lot like Dad.”

Phantom raised a questioning eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah! You’re protective, you value your family—both blood and from friendship—above everything else,” she grinned, a little impishly, “you’re very interested in ghosts and ghost hunting…”

He flushed green, opening his mouth to counter, so she went for the final push.

“And you seem pretty obsessed with logos.” She outright smirked at him. “Pretty sure the next step is using your face as one.”

“Oh my god, Jazz, no.” Phantom threw his head back, groaning loudly. “That’s horrible. You’re horrible.”

“You started it,” she countered, childishly jiggling their arms. “Don’t start what you can’t finish.”

“Terrible. You’re terrible.” He swiveled his head back around, his green eyes sparkling. “How’s your core feeling?”

She stuck out her tongue. “That was a terrible topic change and you know it.” Still, that was why they were meeting, she supposed. “It’s feeling… full? Full-er?”

“More powerful?”

“Uh.” She prodded it, mentally. “No, not really? More… zappy? More zappy than usual, kinda staticky, and more full. Kinda… heavy? But not powerful.”

He nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Alright. I’m cutting off the power. Let’s see if we can get some electricity out of you yet.”

“Sure,” she said as the static down her arms stopped. She unlinked her arms, then twitched her fingers. Felt like they were having after-buzzes. “How?”

“How do all your ghost powers work?” he asked scathingly, but with no real heat. “Thought you were the smart sibling?”

“Mh.” She tried to recall the static feeling. Prodded her core into replicating that. “Wait, I think…”

Gold sparked between her fingers. Brief flashes of lightning jumped from one finger to another. “Oh, look! I did it!”

“That’s a pretty good start, yeah.” Phantom grinned at her when she looked at him. “Good job. Your parents would be proud.”

Well, there went the mood again. The electricity sparking between her fingers faded, her core making a soft hum, almost like it was sad.

“Yeah,” she said, like Phantom could’ve possible missed the mood drop. “I… Speaking of them, though…” She trailed off, then remained silent.

“What about them?” he asked, frowning. “They didn’t—”

“They didn’t do anything!” she assured him, quickly. “Not like that! It’s just. Everyone’s been kind of obsessed with this adult music channel lately, and that’s… fine, whatever, you know, but. Mom and Dad have been listening to it a lot, too, saying it relaxes them. But they wouldn’t need relaxing if it weren’t for— for this!”

Phantom blew out a noisy breath, shaking his head. “Jazz… You can’t blame yourself for the accident, or for your parents finding out. Yeah, maybe they’re a little stressed, but… but they would probably be, anyway, even if you’d told them from the start. It’s not your fault, okay?

“Besides,” he added, and he was suddenly next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “They got into something similar in my universe. Practically every adult in Amity was obsessing over that music. And that was even though my parents didn’t know my secret. So it’s fine, yeah?”

That… wasn’t quite as comforting as Phantom had intended it, probably. She sighed. “I guess. What made them stop?”

“I, uh.” He paused, drawing back. Frowned in thought. “Um. No— hold on.”

“Holding on,” she snipped back.

“Got it! Oh, shit, whoops.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, so, don’t freak out, but it was totally a ghost thing. And I don’t know where to find those guys until they make their move, so…”

“Oh my god, Danny!” She threw out her hands. “That’s the opposite of comforting! What does that even mean, their move?!”

He grimaced. “They might… try to kidnap every adult in the city. No, scratch that, they totally did kidnap every adult in the city. Everyone who listened to their music.”

“Danny!” She clenched her fists, her core whirring angrily, her glow flickering wildly. “I’m not gonna— I’m going home right now. And I’m not leaving until I’m sure it’s taken care of!”

“Yeah, of course.” Phantom nodded quickly. “Go ahead, Jazz. I’ll meet you when Youngblood and Ember show up.”

---

Jazz stood on the landing at the top of the stairs, staring down at the roiling mass of students in her house. It felt like a block of ice sat in her chest, her core angrily buzzing beneath it.

“Jazz,” Valerie said, nudging her. “Come on, glaring at these guys won’t make you feel any better. Can’t we wait for your brother somewhere quieter?”

“No. I already looked at the ship, and they’ve got a ghost shield. Phantom and I can’t approach until someone turns it off.” Valerie quirked an eyebrow at her, and Jazz rolled her eyes. “Val, no offense, but you can’t possibly do that alone. It’s loaded with ghost pirates, and there are at least two high-powered ghosts on there.”

Valerie sighed. “That’s fair, I guess. So now what?”

Jazz turned her eyes back towards their classmates, partying below them.

“Jazz, whatever you’re thinking, no.” Valerie nudged her. “Seriously, you can’t plan to involve those guys again. Last time they were already in danger, and they had ghost powers.”

“They’re already involved,” she pointed out. “Their parents are gone, too. We just need to convince them to help us. There’s enough ghost hunting gear in FentonWorks to arm all of them, and they don’t need to be good, just good enough. If they can distract the ghosts, you can sneak by to disarm the shield.”

Valerie gave her a flat look. “Why the ‘we’? If you convince them, you’ll need to come with, and if you can pass through the ghost shield with them, you and Danny can do it with me, too.”

“I don’t know, Val. It’s a lot of ghosts.” She sighed. “And we need to turn off the shield, or Phantom and I can’t leave. If we can get more people there, it would help a ton.”

“But there’s no way the two of us can convince our class to help us hunt ghosts,” Valerie pointed out harshly. “Seriously, Jazz. Be realistic. We’re both uncool outcasts with a ghost problem. They’re not gonna listen to us.”

“Yeah, but—” A screech of static broke through the music, then stopped. The music didn’t pick back up.

Jazz leaned down over the railing, and spotted Danny standing at the front of the crowd, Sam and Tucker on either side of him. Tucker was holding a PDA, a cable running from it to the speakers behind them. Of course, he must’ve turned off the music for them, drawing the attention to the three of them.

“Hey people!” Danny raised a hand in greeting, his voice loud enough to carry through the sudden silence. “I know you’re all here to party, but I’m afraid we have a bit of a situation! As you all know, just about every adult in Amity Park got kidnapped by ghosts, including pretty much everybody’s parents!”

He looked through the room meaningfully, letting it sink in for a moment, before he continued. “Now, you might all think, so what? Specter and Phantom will solve it, just like every other ghost problem, won’t they? Or maybe that human ghost hunter on the hoverboard? Well, I’m sorry to say that it won’t be that easy.”

“How do you know?” someone shouted from the crowd.

“Glad you asked! I know because I actually looked at the fucking ship where they’re holding our folks, and guess what? It’s got a ghost shield around it! So Phantom and Specter, even if they come to help, won’t be able to! And, as much as I might be inclined to trust in the human hunter, she’s just one person. There’s a small army of weak grunt ghosts on that ship, and at least two higher powered ones, one of which has previously invaded our town, and which required the teamwork of Phantom, Specter, and the human hunter. Now, as much as you’re enjoying this time without your parents, are you really content to rely on other people to fix this for you?”

Danny paused, eyes slowly moving over the crowd. “Do you really feel good, partying here, knowing that your parents are working themselves to the bone up there, forced by ghosts? Knowing that the only people that might help are two ghosts that can’t actually go there, and a single human hunter? Hm?”

He shook his head, then gestured to Sam and Tucker besides him. “Now, I don’t know about any of you. Obviously, since I’m older. But I do know myself, and I know Sam and Tucker. And I know that none of us could live with the guilt, if we spent however long having fun down here, just to discover that our parents died because Amity’s protectors got outplayed. So I’ll ask all of you one thing. If your parents didn’t survive this, could you live with the knowledge that you could’ve helped, but didn’t?”

With his speech finished, Danny stepped back again, Sam and Tucker moving in sync. He turned around, the three of them moving to the edge of the room. Behind them, noise slowly starting coming in again; murmurs of the crowd as they talked. The music stayed silent.

“Damn,” Valerie whistled. “Didn’t know your brother was such a good motivational speaker, Jazz.”

“Yeah,” she said, thinking back to Phantom. To the way he must’ve convinced countless enemies to help him, those times he needed backup he didn’t have. Doing all the things she’d done with basically no information. “Yeah, I guess he is.”

“Wow, that was almost a compliment,” Danny commented, coming up the stairs. Jazz started—when had he gotten there?

“You stole my idea, though.” She swatted at him. “And that’s rude.”

“It’s better this way. Besides, I had a better shot at convincing them.”

She huffed. “What, because you’re such a brilliant speaker?”

“Because I’m older, Jazz.” He rolled his eyes, an amused smile on his face. “For kids like these, older teens are automatically cooler. You two might be all the way at the bottom of the popularity ladder, but Sam, Tucker, and I are high up, just because of our age. Doesn’t matter that we’re not popular among our own classmates.”

“Well, whatever.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t really matter, I guess, because I’m coming anyway.”

Valerie grabbed her arm. “No you’re not. Don’t be crazy.”

“Val, I—”

“Jazz. You are not coming,” Valerie repeated, shaking her arm. Jazz frowned at the weird emphasis.

“I wholeheartedly agree, Jazz,” Danny said from her other side. “I don’t want you to come.”

Jazz grumbled, slumping on the landing’s railing. “You two suck.”

“We also both know, huh?” Danny sighed, then leaned on the railing beside her. “Look, Jazz. Yes, I overheard your idea, and decided that I would take the lead. I’ll lead the human ghost hunters in the attack on the ship, we’ll turn off the shield, and then you and Phantom can come in to actually deal with the ghosts.”

“Wait, hold on,” Valerie cut in before Jazz could reply. “Aren’t you Phantom?”

Danny jerked backwards to look at Valerie over Jazz’ back. Jazz also turned to shoot her an incredulous look.

“What? Why are you both looking at me like that?” Valerie frowned. “Seriously, I asked Phantom if he was Danny Fenton and he said yes. And Jazz, you keep saying he’s your brother. What was I supposed to think?!”

“Technically, all of that is true.” Danny made a face. “It’s just… not the complete truth.”

“One might even say that it’s complicated,” Jazz added, just to rile up Danny a little. “I don’t know why Phantom would tell you he’s Danny but not tell you the whole story, though. He is actually Danny Fenton, yes, but he’s from alternate universe, and just staying until his own friends and sister find him.” She reached behind her to pat Danny on the arm. “This is my actual fully human brother. Hence why I call him Danny, and the other guy Phantom.”

“Ah.” Valerie nodded, but the crease remained. “I… see. I thought you were just, I dunno. Trying to separate the two halves with their own names, or something. So you wouldn’t slip up and call him Danny while he was a ghost.”

“I mean, that’s almost the truth,” Danny pointed out, lips quirking up into a smile. “Anyway, I should go help Sam and Tucker prep the weapons for your classmates. Jazz, you go find Phantom and come join us before we actually leave, okay? The promise of teaming up with Amity’s actual protectors will help convince them.”

“I’ll get going too, then.” Valerie pushed off of the railing, then paused, realizing what she’d said. “I mean, um. I…”

Jazz clicked her tongue. “You need practice with lying on the spot, Val. She’s the Red Huntress, Danny.”

“The human hunter with the hoverboard?” he guessed, then nodded at her. “Yeah, that’d be good. You can take lead, since you’re probably the best fighter among the humans. I’ll have Tucker go down to deactivate the shield, and Sam and I can help cover him.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Valerie nodded back, the tension in her shoulders ebbing a little. “Just…”

“I’ll keep your secret, no worries,” Danny assured her. “Unless you leak Jazz’ secret and get her hurt as a result, but that’s just fair turnabout.”

Valerie snorted. “Yeah, I think I’d deserve whatever shit I get if that ever happens. Where are we meeting?”

“Up top.” Danny raised a finger to point above them. “The Ops Center can turn into a blimp, that’s what we’ll use to get to the ship.”

“Gotcha.” Valerie nodded, once. “See you in a min, Danny, Jazz.”

They watched as Valerie made her way down the stairs, sneaking through the front door unnoticed.

“I’d better get going too.” Jazz pushed herself off of the railing. “See you upstairs.”

“Yeah, see you in a minute.” Danny turned back to head down the stairs as well, while Jazz went to her room. The moment the door closed behind her she shifted to her ghost form, invisibly phasing out through the wall.

She intercepted Phantom on his way to the house, dropping her invisibility.

“Oh, Jazz,” he said, seemingly surprised. “What are you doing outside?”

“We’re meeting the teen ghost hunters upstairs,” she explained with a shrug. “Danny, Sam, and Tucker are leading my classmates for now, but Val is gonna show up and take lead during the actual attack. They’ll probably explain the whole plan for the class in a minute, when we’re all there.”

He nodded. “Gotcha. To the Ops Center, then?”

“Let’s.”

They flew up to the Ops Center quickly, but paused right outside it. Valerie, completely suited up and standing on her hoverboard, was already there.

Whoops. Nobody told her how to get in.

“There’s a door on the top,” Jazz pointed out. “Sorry.”

Valerie stared at Phantom for a moment longer before nodding. “Yeah, alright. See you inside.”

The huntress flew over to the roof, her hoverboard retracting into the soles of her shoes so she could land. She found the hatch, opened it, and dropped through.

After a beat or two, Phantom nudged her. “Let’s go.”

Jazz nodded back, and they both phased through the center’s metal walls.

The inside of the Ops Center was crowded, but surprisingly quiet. A hush must’ve fallen when Valerie had come in, and they quietened down entirely when she and Phantom came in.

Valerie hovered at the front—had apparently re-engaged her hoverboard after coming in—with Danny, Sam, and Tucker right with her. Jazz flew over there as well, Phantom right beside her.

“Wow, what a team!” Danny said, a cheeky grin on his face. “Do you see that, guys? Looks like we’re gonna show those stupid ghosts what Amity Park can really do!”

Phantom quirked an eyebrow at the speech, his spectral tail lashing lazily. “Do you have a plan? Specter and I would love to help, but we can’t, not unless you guys take the shield down.”

“As a matter of fact, we do!” Danny waved a hand, and Sam and Tucker rolled forward a whiteboard. On it were crude drawings of the ghosts’ ship and the Ops Center, but nothing else was filled in yet.

“Because of the shield, us humans will be taking lead in the fight.” He tapped a marker against the drawing of the Ops Center. “We’re in the Emergency Ops Center now, which can turn into a blimp. We’ll use that to fly us to the ship.” He drew an arrow from the Center to the ship.

“Once we’re there, we’ll board them. The Red Huntress,” he gestured over at her, “will lead our main assault. They will fight primarily against the grunts, since the ringleaders probably won’t step up that soon. With their attention drawn, the three of us,” he gestured at Sam, Tucker, and himself, “will split off. Tucker is our tech-master, and he can disable the ghost shield. Sam and I will cover him.”

Danny erased the green circle around the ship with his thumb. “With the shield down, Specter and Phantom are free to join us. The two of them, together with the Red Huntress, will take on the leaders, who will probably come involve themselves by then. The rest of us will take out the remaining minions, then join the fight against… what were their names?”

“Ember and Youngblood,” Jazz answered him.

“Right. The rest of us will join the fight against Ember and Youngblood, helping however we can without outright endangering ourselves. These three,” he gestured at her, Phantom, and Valerie, “are all packing capture devices. They’ll be in charge of catching the enemy ghosts. Once we’re all clear, we’ll take the ship down carefully. Unfortunately, as you might’ve noticed,” he gestured around them, “the Ops Center is too small to take everyone back safely, so that’s what we’ll have to do. Any questions?”

He looked over the crowd of teenagers, but no one spoke up. “Good. In that case, come forward to grab weapons from me, Sam, and Tucker. Phantom, Specter, you’re free to wait outside, since you won’t be in here for the fight anyway. Red… feel free to grab extra weapons if you want.”

“I’m good,” Val muttered, her voice quiet. Probably trying not to get overheard by her classmates.

“We’ll be outside, then,” Phantom told Danny, then nodded at her. They phased outside, landing on a nearby rooftop.

The pirate ship hovered high above them, an unnatural green in the overcast skies. The shield around it reflected oddly in the windows around them.

“This fight is gonna be a breeze,” Phantom said airily, hands behind his head.

“Yeah?” She turned to look at him, cocking her head. “You sound confident.”

He snorted. “I managed without too much trouble. Now I’m more powerful, and backed up by both you and Valerie.”

“And a small army of my classmates.”

“And a small army of your classmates, yes,” Phantom corrected with a laugh. “Seriously, Ember and Youngblood don’t know what they’ve got coming.

Jazz watched him smile, and it felt like a knot loosened in her chest. It was good, to see Phantom smile like that. Confident, powerful, at ease.

They had this fight won before it even started, really.

#danny phantom #dp fanfic #phanfic #phanfiction #dp fanfiction #phic #danny fenton #jazz fenton #jazz phantom #halfa jazz au #jack fenton #maddie fenton #dark writes #absurdism #valerie really burrowed her way into this fic #really dont know what i wouldve done without her tbh #this phic changed so much from the original planning and im so glad for it

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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1034

survey by tater-tots What is a fruit that you might eat in the morning? Hahahaha. That’s a pass for me; I can’t imagine regularly eating fruit at any set time of the day.

Do you enjoy any food combinations that others might consider to be weird? I like to eat fish with mayonnaise, which was always normal in our household but I realized was weird when I first saw the horrified expressions on my friends’ faces when they saw me use the combination. I like mayonnaise with a lot of other foods as well, which a lot of people generally find weird.

What is a green vegetable that you enjoy eating? Broccoli and asparagus.

Name something you might find in a salad. In my salad, you’ll always find tuna sashimi in it heh.

What is your favorite type of sandwich? Anything that’s like an Eggs Benedict or Monte Cristo.

Which condiment do you use the most often? Mayo, for sure. Banana ketchup too. I also like sriracha sauce but my dad hasn’t been buying a new bottle of it for a while.

Name a chocolate bar that you enjoy eating. It’s called Whittaker’s - just not sure what country it hails from; maybe Australia? - and I like their peanut butter variant. Google also told me it’s a New Zealander brand.

What is a meat that you do not eat - ever. Dog or cat.

Are you lactose intolerant, or have any other sort of food allergies? I’m mildly lactose intolerant but I ignore it because a lot of my favorite foods use dairy. Other than that, no food allergies.

What was the last food that you burnt your mouth on? Just plain rice, haha. I had been extremely hungry and I just wanted to dig in; but I ended up spitting it back out.

Which brand of soup do you eat? I don’t regularly have soup, much less buy canned brands of it.

What are some flavors of ice cream that your enjoy? Cookies and cream, mint chocolate, coffee, chocolate chip cookie dough, queso real.

What is the best type of cookie, in your opinion? I like keeping things classic when it comes to cookies, and I’ve always been perfectly happy with chocolate chip cookies :)

Would you rather have popcorn, pretzels, or chips as your salty snack? Chips. I dislike the other two as I only like the softer, doughy version of pretzels.

Have you thought about going on a diet & actually went through with it? No.

survey by pinkchocolate

When you woke up today, was there anything on your mind? Kinda. I felt sad and I was aware of it instantly, compared to most days where the sadness will take a while to build.

Who was the last person you interacted with for the first time? Literally speaking, maybe the barista at Starbucks who took my temperature at the entrance before I was let in the store. I interacted with her yesterday.

What colour was the wrapper of the last snack you ate? White. It’s more of a tiny bag than a wrapper, though.

Do you have a favourite mug to drink from? What does it look like? Yeah, I’ve since claimed my mom’s mug for myself. It’s a copper mug with the Starbucks label on it. It looks super minimalist which I appreciate.

What was the last thing you used, that came in a spray can? It was a Lysol spray.

What colour is your favourite bra? Don’t really have one.

Who was the last person you went to for advice about something? I think it was Andi. I’ve been going to them a lot for help, advice, extra sanity, etc. lately. If it hasn’t been for them I probably would’ve left a few months back.

Have you had a deep conversation with anyone lately? Yes. I finally met up with Gab yesterday to discuss a lot things, iron some stuff out, figure out where to go from here.

What was the last compliment you recall receiving from someone? I’m not sure, I haven’t been receiving any.

And the last compliment you gave to someone else? It was most likely a compliment for Andi on how helpful they’ve been to me.

What kind of bread did you eat most recently? Flatbread.

What was the last sound you heard, that you found pleasant? We were watching a mass livestream earlier and I was delighted when they played the closing song.

How many books do you think there are in your house? Take a rough guess. I would guess around 60, the overwhelming bulk of them mine.

Of all the books you own, which do you think has the most pages in it? It would definitely either be Gone with the Wind or Les Miserables, but I’m not sure which one is thicker.

^ And how many pages is that? I checked both of my copies and they’re soooo close – GWTW has 1,440 pages while Les Mis has 1,463.

What was the last film you saw at the cinema? What did you think of it? Knives Out. I went to the mall yesterday and the cinemas were still closed, so it’s not like I’d be able to watch new movies at theatres anyway. Anyway, I’ve been vocal about the movie enough times on my surveys but I didn’t enjoy it. Whodunnits were never my cup of tea, but Gab had wanted to see it and I didn’t want to make her watch the film alone.

In the last book you read, what was the main character's name? Haven’t been reading.

What was the last song you heard, that meant something to you? Lose by Niki.

How many people do you know whose name begins with Z? I can only recall one such person at the moment; it’s one of my mom’s aunts who also doubled as a principal sponsor for my mom and dad’s wedding.

What do you expect to be doing at this time tomorrow? Maybe doing my embroidery (my package finally arrived!!) or surveys or watching Start-Up, because tomorrow will be a holiday :)

survey by luckforlemmy

Did you start listening to more Michael Jackson after his death? I can remember that there was definitely a brief period after his death that I caught up with his discography and listened to MJ nearly everyday; I read up on him and his life as well. 11 year old me figured he must’ve been an interesting figure because of the big reception around his death, so I wanted to know the reasons behind it.

When was the last time that you played hide and seek? I can vividly remember the day when Nina and I played hide and seek when the house was newly-built and still devoid of furniture, back in maybe ‘07 or ‘08. I’m fairly certain that was the last time I played hide and seek.

Who was your first celebrity crush, if you can remember? It was a tie between Ashley Tisdale and Zac Efron, though the older I get the more I’ve been convinced that I ‘crushed’ on Zac only because I was surrounded by girls who went crazy over him in school. I’m pretty sure my first real celebrity crush was Ashley, hahaha.

Do you worry about money? Yeah, especially now. I can’t even enjoy my first paycheck because most of it’s gonna go to Christmas presents, but oh well; at least I can finally buy gifts for my loved ones who’ve always gotten me presents.

Have you ever had to beg for a second chance? Kind of, when I was trying to convince Gab to let our relationship have another shot four years ago. Beg is a strong word for what I actually did, though. It was more of me pitching the idea, not begging.

When was the last time that you sent an actual letter through the mail? I don’t think I even ever did that, not even when I was younger and snail mail was still kind of a thing.

Are you excited to return to school? There’s nothing to return to anymore. Unless I decided to take up a post-grad course in the future, I’m done with school.

Do you hate Internet abbreviations? It can just feel a bit jarring when they’re used excessively in a single sentence, but I honestly don’t mind it for the most part. It’s understandable especially now that most, if not all, of my interactions whether personal or for work happen online.

What was the last insult you gave out? I was never really the roasting type of person, not even towards my friends.

What'd you last look up on YouTube? Hahaha I looked up ‘skynwallz.’ I was looking for the episode of Rhett and Link’s vlogs where they painted the rooms of their offices in the color of their entire person – hair, eyes, and skin. They were joking about starting a new business for it called Skynwallz, so that’s what I looked up.

Are you texting someone really awesome right now? No, I prefer to be alone today.

Do you know when to be serious and when you shouldn't be? Er sure, it’s not that hard.

Do you think that you're funny? I like my sense of humor, yeah, but I know it’s not always going to translate to everybody’s tastes. For example, I’m still figuring out the dynamic in the team I was put in at work, so I can’t make the same jokes that I would normally say with my co-interns with whom I have a more comfortable relationship.

Have you ever sent a secret to Post Secret? I don’t know what this is, so no.

What movie do you really want to see in theatres right now? They aren’t showing anything at the moment. A movie I want to see badly, though, is Ammonite.

Have either of your parents shown affection for you today? My mom made breakfast for us, if it counts. She also gives each of her kids a kiss during the peace-giving portion at mass, so there’s that as well.

What's the last thing that you sang out loud? I watched Start Up before this survey and was humming to the song that was being played at the end of the episode. I couldn’t sing along to it because it was in Korean, but I knew the melody so I hummed.

Is there a word that you always misspell? Rhythm is one of my worst enemies for sure. I also have a love-hate relationship with accommodate.

What was the last thing that you bought that someone else benefited from? I met up with Gabie yesterday and bought her her favorite meal from Yabu to break the ice – menchi katsu with brown rice. I originally got mozzarella sticks for myself but when we got to talking, she mentioned her sisters at one point; I remembered how much I miss them, so I gave up my food and told her to just give my food to her sisters since I hadn’t touched it yet anyway.

Has someone ever made you a really great mix CD? Andi gave me one before she made the flight to New Zealand 10 years ago to permanently live there. I believe I still have it, but I’m just not sure where it currently is.

Have you ever been on Omegle.com? Yes, when I was a teenager and it was new.

Did you talk to someone cool there? Not really; most seem to exit our chat after we did the whole asl thing. I also avoided the webcam option because my anxiety for video calls has always been present.

What song reminds you of your best friend? Any song by The Maine.

Who was the last person to hit on you? Some creep on Facebook.

What's on the paper nearest you? It’s the guide for my embroidery kit. It tells me what stitches to do and the colors of thread to use for the different parts of the template I was provided with.

Do you have a set of lyrics that you really love? From Paramore’s Pool: “As if the first cut wasn’t deep enough, I dove in again ‘cause I’m not into giving up Could’ve gotten the same rush from any lover’s touch, But why get used to something new When no one breaks my heart like you” I scream those lyrics every time they come on. I know I often showed the good, shiny side of my relationship on these surveys; but it was very much toxic at a lot of points and those lyrics - and that song - served as a nest for me, something that told me someone understands how I sometimes felt about my own relationship.

Did you get an A in your last English class? I got a 1.25 instead of a perfect 1.00, but I think that’s still equivalent to an A so yes.

What did you last use scissors for? Cutting thread.

Did you ever secretly hate a friend of yours that thought you liked them? That makes me sound shitty lol, but yeah I’ve acted nicely to people I don’t particularly like.

What do you think of when I say "boat"? That episode of Friends where Joey bought himself a boat at an auction; and Canadian accents.

Would you ever get a tattoo sleeve? Nope. I planned on getting one as a teenager, but I grew out of that phase.

Do you know any really fake people? Yep. I think everyone’s got to be at some point.

What does the last blanket you used look like? It’s pink and has multi-colored polka dots on it.

Do you have appreciation for graffiti? Sure, especially if it’s for political purposes (that I agree with).

Why don't you drive? I do. I just have done it a lot less because I have had little need for driving and traveling to places throughout the pandemic.

Does it annoy you when your printer runs out of ink? I think we have the kind of printer that never runs out of ink, but I’m not exactly sure about the terminologies or how the technology works. I let my sister do the printing hahaha.

Have you ever drank anything from a thermos? Yes, mostly water and coffee.

When was the last time you played in the snow? Never.

Do you know any ignorant people? Sure, mostly Gen X-ers and Boomers.

What is the coolest name you've ever heard? Thylane.

What did you last argue with someone about? Relationship stuff. It wasn’t a full-blown argument, but when Gab and I talked yesterday it was natural for us to disagree on a few points.

Is there anyone that you dislike for no real reason? Hmm, I don’t think so. If I feel that strongly about someone, I usually have a reason otherwise it wouldn’t be fair to them.

Have you had a good day? It was okay; it was nice. I got to do my embroidery hoop art thing, got to watch a couple episodes of Start Up, played with Cooper, and now I’m doing these surveys and am planning to continue my embroidery later. It’s nice to feel productive about non-work things :)

Are you going to have a good night? I hope.

#survey #surveys #multiple surveys – chop em up if you wish

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frankieshq · 4 years ago

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[ itzy vc ] hey, hey, hey, it’s your girl summer coming at you with her twenty years of mediocre existence to present miss FRANKIE KWON. meet my self-conscious, awkward babie who uses sarcasm as a defense mechanism. you can find info about her under the cut !! i might have written a long ass bio that i didn’t bother to finish on a google docs but will be linking that one soon.

BACKGROUND

[tl;dr: young girl grows up in a matriarchal household that is heavy with regret and blame. dad comes and makes her childhood a bit happier, only to leave and break her heart because he’s an asshole. grows up thinking her smarts is gonna save her, but it’s actually her humor that does]

to truly understand frankie kwon, one must go way back--back to when her grandparents first immigrated to michigan. landing in detroit, sunhwa kwon and her husband didn’t have it easy. she had a two-year-old hanging by her neck and a brilliant but unambitious husband. she had to struggle with odd jobs for years while taking care of her family and helping her husband learn english, so he can use his engineering degree in america. she became a severe woman, never softened by affection but hardened by grit and hard work. eventually, the her husband was able to land a stable job and the family relocated to chelsea.

sunhwa made sure to train and hone her daughter jina’s natural intellect, but her methods were severe and lacking in affection. jina looked for the affection she didn’t find at home elsewhere. she fell in love with the first boy that called her beautiful, and at eighteen, gave birth to francesca areum kwon.

and so it goes that frankie was born in a household heavy with guilt, blame, and regret. there was love there somewhere, but it was constantly shadowed by feelings that existed way before she did. the emotional scars her mother and grandmother inflicted on each other were too deep-seated that their love for each other hid behind a cover of blame and snark. at a young age, frankie learned how to read a room, learned what to say or do so as to not aggravate the precarious balance of their household. she learned how to figure out whether her mother was too tired from work or whether her grandmother was in a snappy mood. it was a tightrope dance she learned how to perfect, growing up faster than she should have.

all her grandmother’s lost hope for her mother transferred to frankie, and her grandma supervised her education with the same vigor. although, this time, she was a tad bit more affectionate to her granddaughter (i mean all grandmas can’t resist their grandchildren, let’s be real). her mom wanted to protest, but aside from the guilt, she was always busy. being a single mom was hard enough, but she also had to take care of her aging mother.

frankie is a shy kid by nature, but her household just intensified this predisposition. she had few friends because she was scared about approaching kids first. she spends her time watching cartoons, studying, and writing in her journal.

enter: frankie’s dad, andrew grant. he left chelsea and his pregnant ex-gf bc he’s an asshole. but he comes back nine years later because he failed at whatever version of the american dream he was following at that time.

he taught frankie to have fun !! she’d spend afternoons at his car shop bantering with him and telling jokes. eventually, she relayed these jokes to people at school and was shocked when people actually laughed. she became more well-liked, developed a sense humor, and had more friends. the ages 9-12 were probably her happiest.

at 12 years old, she got invited to a middle school sleepover for the weekend. but she had a big test on monday, and her grandma doesn’t allow her to go to stuff if she has tests the next schoolday. with the help of her mom, she was able to go to it by pretending it was a school event. had so much fun and forgot to study. she didn’t get a grade high enough for her grandmother to be happy, though. once her grandma found out what she did and her mom’s involvement, she was livid !! that was the biggest fight her grandma and mom got into and frankie was grounded for a month. the worst part was, throughout the fight, frankie felt like she was a burden to the two women she loved the most. she felt like she was the reason her mother was always tired, constantly nagged on by her grandmother about wasted potential.

to make matters worst, her dad left town again. fell in love with some other venture. he told her he would come back but never did.

since that day, frankie dedicated herself full force to her studies. she felt like she needed to make it up to her mom and grandma for all their sacrifices. she built a wall around herself because it’s easier that way. she had few friends, but it was better for her.

her grandmother died during her senior year of high school. she loved her grandma, but she felt as if a weight lifted from her chest. her mom encouraged her to go to school as far as she liked.

she got a scholarship to columbia and studied statistics like the big nerd that she is !!

she met roman and lucy here, finally felt that she had friends that she felt she can really open to.

after college, she worked for a firm. she finally felt secure, like she payed some sort of unsaid debt to her grandma but she wasn’t happy, folks :(((

she first did stand-up as a dare on an open mic and she was so shocked that people laughed. she was tipsy then, and kept made self-deprecating jokes of her childhood trauma. love that for her.

the more stand-up she did, though, the more nervous she got because she gets really worried if she’s doing things right. instead of improving, she got worse because her nerves always get to her. don’t get me wrong the jokes are great, it’s just that her execution doesn’t always land.

comedy was just a vERY beloved side hobby for her until a small production company based on youtube offered her a writer position. she would get to write their skits and stuff, but she it payed wAY less than her present job. she was like fuck it, and took the offer. she wanted to make people laugh.

that leads us to here, a girl who is still unsure whether leaving a secure job was the way to go, secretly hoping to be a famous comedian.

PERSONALITY

frankie is like a spring roll you guys. outside, she masks her awkwardness and shyness with some cRunCHy self-deprecating jokes and sarcasm. so, she has an intimidating exterior because she tries to be tougher than she actually is. inside, she’s just a soft and sad girl. she doesn’t talk much if she isn’t comfortable with you, but once she is, she talks a loT. but it does take a while for her to warm up to people. can be extremely judgmental (a trait inherited from her grandma), but her mind can be changed. isn’t stubborn, though, and is actually a doormat. the type of person to say something and obsess over it because she’s scared that it might have offended someone.

HEADCANONS

lots of repressed femininity because there was a lot of internal misogyny in her household growing up !! it was only until college with the help of lucy, that she was able to access her girlier side.

is a lesbian, but has a lot of internal homophobia as well. her grandma was a very traditional woman, so frankie feels very guilty about liking girls, and is very hesitant about going on dates and actively looking for relationships even though she’s really lonely.

likes writing a lot !! used to keep journals since she was 8 because it honestly made her feel less lonely growing up.

nOBODY CALL HER FRANCESCA. she hates that name, but likes her second name a lot. only her grandma called her areum tho.

spends a lot of time at mon’s deli, and mon could also be counted as her bff. she and the old man gossip and chitchat about the bennington street residents for hours. is this also because she is in dire need of a father figure?? maybe, yes, absolutely

used to have really low alcohol tolerance, but sort of grew out of it?? if she doesnt drink for a month or two tho, her tolerance goes back to zero like dont ask me, i dont make the rules

still a big fan of cartoons and kid humor !! loves amazing world of gumball and steven universe

makes her own kimchi because her grandma and mom have a special family recipe, will happily share if she likes you

i imagine the level of closeness she has in the group varies, like she’s closer to some people than others and acts differently around them

would really like to do stand-up again but still has stage fright

want her to either end up working on something as big as snl or writing movies or overcoming her stage fright and becoming a successful stand-up comedienne !!

#laughtrackintro #hello hello im late for everything #did not put a connections part bc i will be dm-ing all you

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bisexualfelicity · 4 years ago

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No Other Version of Me - Chapter 4

Amalia Queen was once said to be so important that the universe made sure she happened. Yes, it was her mom who said that but it still counts. Now, she's an adult and struggles to be worthy of such sentence. She doesn't want to be a vigilante and make so many sacrifices like the rest of her family, but it doesn't mean she doesn't want to save the world.

Sequel to "Five Lives"

AO3 link

Chapter Four

“No,” is the only word they all seem to know.

Amalia expected her parents position, they had always been against their children participating in vigilante activities and were bound to be reluctant, but everyone else? That’s a stab in her back.

“You can’t just join us whenever you feel like it,” Libbi says, with a offhand air that makes Amalia want to strangle her. “This is a serious business, you going would make it more likely to fail. Do you know how long I had to train before I was accepted into the team?”

Amalia does in fact know it; she also knows that this is not the point. She has no interest in joining the team, she doesn’t care at all about any of that, she just wants to fix what she broke.

Continue to reading under the cut or on AO3

Libbi might be right in theory, but they don’t know what they’re going to find and they should all use any help they could. Dismissing Amalia just because she isn’t a vigilante? That’s petty. It’s not like she has never been trained, she’s done that her entire life.

“Come on, honey, I can give you comms and you can hear what’s going on, right next to me,” her mom tells her, “I know it’s hard to sit and wait here instead of going there. I’ve done that many times, remember?”

“It’s not the same at all, Mom, you’re helping from here! I can’t do any of the stuff you or Will can do, I’m much more useful in the field and you know that!”

“No, I don’t know that. You’re useful here, safe, where no one else is going to have to worry about you doing something wrong. I know it’s hard to hear, but it’s not just that you can’t help, Mali, but you can compromise the entire mission,” Mom continues.

The softness in her voice is what fills Amalia’s eyes with water. She doesn’t know what to say anymore, she has begged everyone. It’s not like her to be like this, but there’s something she can’t explain. She just knows she needs to join them. She’s tried to say that, but Libbi complained it was just arrogance because she couldn’t admit she had done something wrong by not telling them. Maybe that’s part of it, but it’s not all.

The entire team arrow is looking at her with pity and she can’t stand it. It was bad enough when it was just her family, but now Zoe, JJ and Becky are here, acting like they are humoring a child.

“I’m sorry, Amalia, but it’s for the best,” Zoe tells her, “I can assure you Team Arrow has this handled, we’ve been working on this for a long time. We’ll get her back safely.”

Becky sends her a kind look and Amalia remembers how reluctant everyone was to let her join the team, all those years ago. Now, she doesn’t say anything on Amalia’s behalf, choosing to side with the majority. Bunch of hypocrites, it’s what they are. She wonders if she should do it like Becky and force their hands, follow them or go solo… But she can’t even entertain the thought seriously. That’s not who she is.

Will asks her if she doesn’t want to go to his house, spend the day with the kids instead of sitting here in agony. It’s a nice proposal, one she would certainly accept in other circumstances. She loves the twins and they are usually one of the only things that can get her in a better mood when she’s upset, it’s impossible to stay sad when there are two years-olds loving you. But the thought of leaving the bunker and not knowing what is going on? It terrifies her.

Amalia denies the offer and retires herself to the punching dummy. No one says anything, instead she sees they all reunite around the table, going over the plans for the night. She focus herself on the activity and tries to imagine as she were fighting real people.

She doesn’t enjoy punching, always preferred the martial arts, but this works for now. She feels her vision blur with tears but fights against them. There is a time and place for crying and it’s late at night in her bed. Amalia knows the thoughts are just waiting for a moment of weakness and she refuses to give them an opening. Instead she steadies her breathing, stares at the bag and concentrates on the burning feeling on her fists.

The more she punches it, the easier it gets. The pain doesn’t bother her, it helps focus. Her thoughts can’t go to the future if her body yells loud enough for her to pay attention in the present.

“You should probably take a break,” a voice says behind her and it takes Amalia a few seconds to realize it’s Sara. “There’s pizza, I got you a slice.”

Amalia blinks as she processes the information. Glancing at her watch, she realizes it’s already lunch time; somehow the hours had passed while she tried to bury her thoughts. She looks around the bunker, and sees most of the team eating around the table. Her mom is looking at her direction, probably trying to figure out if Sara would get her to eat something, but turns away as soon as she sees Amalia looking back.

She accepts the slice from Sara, even though she doesn’t feel the least bit hungry. She waits for Sara to leave, but the woman just stares at her.

“Thank you?” Amalia mumbles as she takes a bite, wondering what exactly Sara wants from her. Sara just laughs at that and sits on a futon next by.

“How are you holding up?” Sara asks.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?” Amalia replies without thinking, immediately realizing how true that is. “I’ve been making this all about myself. I didn’t even get to say I’m sorry to you and Nyssa. I should have done something when Naila came to me… Now both your daughters are missing. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, you should have. But it’s okay, I understand why you didn’t and there’s no point in beating yourself up. We’re going to get them back. They are strong girls, they can protect themselves, I’m not worried about their safety.”

“What are you worried about then?” Amalia questions, reading Sara’s expression.

“There are other ways to hurt them. Taliq… wasn’t a good father. They are adults, but they never got to confront him. I’m not sure how that is going to affect them,” Sara sighs, burying her face in her hand. “You should probably talk to Naila after we get her back. She misses you.”

“I miss her too,” Amalia confesses, her voice no louder than a whisper, “I shouldn’t have sent her away by herself. I knew it was important but I was just so angry at her for showing up like that, I barely listened to what she was saying,” Amalia feels the hole in her chest aching and finds herself looking up to avoid crying again. “If the situation was reversed, she would have helped me. Even after all this time, I know she would.”

“You can help now,” Sara says and it doesn’t escape Amalia how she doesn’t deny that Naila wouldn’t have betrayed her this way.

“No, I can’t,” she complains, “The plans are already made, I have no skills I can use from here and no one will let me go in the field. Best case scenario, Naila comes back and I’ll have to look into her eyes and explain why I just stood by while she was kidnapped.”

There is more to be said, but Amalia doesn’t say it. She can’t even say it to herself, let alone to Naila’s mom, but that’s the most important part. She betrayed Naila. God, she had made so many mistakes with Naila, but she had been given a chance to make it right and she somehow made it worse. If something happened to Naila now… There would be no coming back for them.

“Okay,” Sara says after a few seconds of silence, “How are your fighting skills?”

“My- what? They are good. My dad trained me since forever and I still practice. It’s better than gym,” she answers not understanding the relevance until Sara stands up and goes to the fighting mat, looking directly at her.

“Show me you can hold yourself in the field and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

Amalia doesn’t waste any time, she’s full of adrenaline and motivation, so eager to prove herself that it only takes Sara a few seconds to get her down. But Amalia gets up and goes again and again. She has tears in her eyes by the time Sara throws her in the floor for the fifth time. But Sara still hasn’t said a word and Amalia continues to try.

When Amalia finally has the upper hand and Sara is down, it’s likely because Sara let her have a win, but neither mentions a thing. Instead Sara smiles to her and they continue to fight for a while, until Sara stops.

“Okay. You can go.”

“I didn’t win… at all,” Amalia says, not understanding how that proves anything.

“Good! That would be very embarrassing for me if you did,” Sara winks, “Not many people can beat me, Amalia, doesn’t mean they can’t hold themselves.”

Sara doesn’t wait for Amalia to reply, she makes her way towards the team. Amalia follows her, noticing how the entire team observes them, probably saw the entire fight.

“Good fight? Are you feeling better?” Amalia’s mom asks when they approach.

“Amalia is going with us,” Sara says matter-of-factly.

“Excuse me?” Mom is the first to react.

“We’ve already decided she won’t,” her dad continues. “What’s going on, Sara?”

“I’ve talked to Amalia, and I think she could be a good asset for the mission,” Sara explains like it’s very simple.

“Are you kidding me?” Libbi decides to make her opinion know, “She had just accepted she was not going!”

“We can’t have a new person like that on the team,” Zoe says, “She’s not used to being in the field, it’s too risky.”

“I’m not asking for permission. I’ve requested Team Arrow’s assistance, but this is not your mission. Amalia is under my command.”

Everyone is surprised by Sara’s decisiveness, but no one more than Amalia. Sara may have said she would help her, but convincing everyone of it? That’s a different story. But Sara is right, this is a League business first and foremost, everyone there is under Sara’s command. Everyone but Nyssa, but she doesn’t say anything. From what Amalia understands from their relationship, if Sara is vouching for her, Nyssa is going to support her wife.

“Sara… A word, please,” Oliver says, and both of them go to a corner, being quickly followed by their wives.

Her parents might trust Sara with the mission and, well, probably with their lives, but Amalia is not so sure they are going to trust her life to Sara. She can see her parents arguing with Sara and doesn’t bother to listen to it, she’s heard it all. The longer the conversation goes, the more nervous Amalia starts to get. Is Sara right to stick by her side? What if she does something wrong?

Her siblings try to talk to her, but she ignores them. She doesn’t really want to hear them right now, her attention is on her parents. When they seem to finish their talk, her parents stay behind talking to each other.

“Let’s do this!” Sara says to the group. “Libbi and Becky, let Amalia know how the plan is going. Zoe and JJ, with me, we’re going through the plan one last time to include Amalia in it.”

Amalia can’t stop a smile forming on her face. She isn’t sure she’ll be necessary, but she’s going to be there and that counts for something.

“Don’t screw this up, kid,” Sara tells her before joining the others on planning.

She feels her parents next to her before she sees them. They both look more worried than before and Amalia feels guilty for being the reason. As the person who was always the one left behind, she can understand how they feel, but not enough to give this up.

“Mali, listen,” her dad starts, “We can’t stop you from joining. You’re an adult and you can take care of yourself, we know that. But please, just promise that you’ll listen to us while on the field, if we tell you to get out, you have to get out. No matter what happens, you understand?”

“Sure, I know how it goes,” she frowns, “When have I not been known to follow plans?”

Her parents exchange a look, but Amalia doesn’t understand them this time. She is a rule-follower, has been for her entire life, she’s not going to go rogue.

Amalia’s just going to go there and help save Naila. She doesn’t even need to do anything, she just wants to be present. To show that she cares.

It’s her chance to prove herself and she’s not going to fuck it up.

December 2036.

Naila could beat Amalia in a fight while she slept, something that she doesn’t hesitate to say. A few months earlier, Amalia would have brushed it off as a faux-pas due to Naila’s education, now she knows she’s just being teased.

“I always manage to beat Libbi,” Amalia complains.

“That’s no feat, she’s eleven,” Naila replies, a smile on her face. “You need to take more risks, your moves are too predictable.”

If Amalia knew Naila would take it so seriously, she would’ve never suggested training. Her intention was to do something that would make Naila more comfortable since the girl had been stressed with the holidays coming. They had gone shopping with Claire and Violet the day before, and Naila attempted shopping alone for the first time. While Amalia found Naila’s worries adorable, she could see the weight Naila was putting on it.

And okay, Amalia has to give herself some credit because Naila is anything but uncomfortable now. She’s even laughing… But Amalia doesn’t like that the laughing matter is herself.

“No one has ever complained before,” Amalia grumbles, going for another move, trying and failing to surprise her friend. “I’ve followed every rule I know!”

“It’s not about rules,” Naila starts, “How can I explain? You fight like you’re going to compete in the olympic, as if there is a judge and a specific set of rules. We fight to defeat the opponent no matter who they are and how dirty they play.”

“Well, you guys murder people, so I’m not sure I want to be like that,” Amalia says, bitterness flooding from her mouth, and immediately regrets it, noticing she offended Naila.

“That’s fair,” Naila answers, biting her lips instead of arguing, “It is the league of assassins, after all. But we’re not like it used to be before. We protect people,” she explains. “It’s not as savage as it sounds. There are other ways to defeat people. Despite the name, we only kill when it’s necessary.”

“Still, I can’t understand how you don’t have a problem with it,” Amalia continues, “You’re telling me you’re ready to kill people?”

That’s going too far, but Amalia realizes that too late. She has tried to separate what she knows of the League with what Naila talks about her home, but she can’t make sense of it and it bothers her a lot. It’s been almost six months since they started being friends and Amalia can’t reconcile the girl who seats to her next to classes, likes to make sketches of random students and gets nervous buying presents with someone who is going to kill people as a way of living.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m ready or not,” Naila says after a few seconds in silence, “My family is the League, I’ll join the mission after I’m done with school.”

Amalia is about to let her opinion be known when Naila drops her in the floor, going back to training as it never stops. Despite thinking there’s more to be said, Amalia gets the message. There would be other opportunities to discuss it, and at least for now Naila is safe. Safer than Amalia apparently, if her fighting skills are anything to go by.

And when she leaves… Well, Amalia doesn’t really want to think about that. Naila is a good friend, she balances her friends dynamic in school and is someone she’s starting to get used to having in her life.

Putting those thoughts behind her, Amalia focuses on the girl in front of her. While she may have restarted the battle, Naila’s mind doesn’t seem to be fully on it, because it doesn’t take long for Amalia to pin her on the ground, winning a round for the first time since they started.

“Not so almighty now, are you?” Amalia laughs at Naila’s surprised face.

Their eyes interlock for a second and Amalia feels a bit of electricity running through her body. It occurs to her that she hasn’t moved and is still on top of Naila, holding her in the ground. She thanks god for the exercise so she can pretend her face is red because she’s tired and not for any other reason. Naila is looking at her with such intensity, Amalia wonders if she’s angry at her, but soon her friend is smiling at her again and she knows they’re okay.

“Maybe you’re better than I gave you credit,” Naila says, “But I should be going now,” she completes, checking her watch.

“Right. What time does their flight arrive?”

“A little after 7pm. We’re picking them up on the airport and then going out for dinner,” Naila explains, “Sara wanted to do something special, because it’s been so long since we’ve seen them in person.”

“Are you doing something fun while they’re here?”

“No, no, Nyssa and Samyia have both been in Starling enough times, they have no desire in getting to know the city better. Mostly we just want to spend some time the four of us. It’s weird being apart for so long,” she sighs, “Samyia wants me to go back to Nanda Parbat with them.”

“What?! Now?”

“After the new year, when they go back,” she explains, “The plan was for me to stay for the entire school year, but Sara says she might go back in a couple months and it makes no sense for me to start a new semester and then leave.”

Amalia is shocked with this new information. She had just been thinking that they had so much time before Naila had to leave and now it could happen in a few weeks? Amalia’s heart feels like it’s going to fall through her chest.

“You can’t go now! You’re barely just getting used to it, and you’re getting so much better at paying attention to classes. Do you not enjoy it?!” It bothers Amalia how high-pitched her voice sound but she doesn’t seem to be able to control it.

“I do. School is interesting. And I like spending time with you… And Violet and Claire. It’s different, having friends your age,” Naila continues, “But I also miss my family. I can’t stay here forever, as much as I’d like to.”

“You can! You can stay with your aunt, they’re family too!” Amalia insists, “Don’t give up on what you want because of your family. Look, you can go to a real school, you can even go to college after it instead of joining the league, have a real job. Doesn’t it sound so much better?”

“It sounds like fantasy,” Naila corrects and Amalia almost rolls her eyes at that.

There’s something really wrong with your life if studying and having a job sounds more like fantasy than becoming an assassin. Amalia doesn’t say that though.

“Please, talk to your family! Your moms thought you should try school here for a reason, right? Give yourself a little more time to figure out what you want.”

“I’ll think about it, I haven’t decided either way yet,” Naila concedes, “I’ll miss this city a lot.”

“Well… The city will miss you too.”

Amalia’s heart is beating fast and she can’t blame on the training anymore. She knows she’s in trouble because the thought of Naila leaving creates a hole in her chest. She bites her cheek so the tears don’t come forwards and tries not to think about what that means.

It’s going to be okay, she tells herself. If Naila stays for just a little while more, maybe she can convince her to stay.

#olicity fic #arrow fic #olicity fanfic #olicity #arrow #my fic

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majordomo-zazu · 5 years ago

Text

So I finally did a rewrite of the most disappointing scene in The Lion King remake (though that’s not saying much). It’s the scene where Rafiki shows Simba the pool and Mufasa’s ghost appears to him. Between Mufasa barely actually appearing and the movie cutting the following conversation Simba and Rafiki have (the arguable best scene of the movie), AND not using Lebo M.’s new version of He Lives In You (the unarguable best version of that song) instead of that awful Beyonce song, it was done the dirtiest out of the lot. But it did have some nice elements, so I tried to combine the best of both.

So here’s how I imagine it in my head. I have a very clear picture of this animated but given that I have no talent on that front I think I managed to convey it to script form well enough. I’ve linked the pieces of music and the timestamps which are vital to this scene, but I would recommend reading it through first without them, so your’re not pressured to read the actions too quickly and miss out, and then go back through it listening to the music. With the ‘Remember Who You Are’ fragments the dialogue is too long to fit the music, so just stop it early. Also the song is completely in Xhosa, but I’m assuming everyone reading has enough familiarity with the song to be able to follow.

Credit to @asante-sana for the idea of the pawprint imagery. Idk if they’re active anymore but I think they’d like to see this if they ever come back

[He Lives In You begins to play under the dialogue]

Rafiki: Shh…Look down there…

[He gestures with his staff to a glow between the grass. Simba moves forward and reveals the pool. Half-sceptical, half-hopeful, he looks into the water, but his face falls and he sighs when he sees his reflection look back up at him]

Simba: That’s not my father…It’s just my reflection.

Rafiki: No!

[The baboon holds the back of the lion’s head and makes him look again]

Rafiki: Look harder…

[Again, Simba looks, and again, he sees nothing. He pulls up, frustrated and confused. He almost snaps at Rafiki]

Simba: What am I supposed to be seeing?

[Disappointed, Rafiki sighs, then looks off into the sky with his head tilted, as though he can hear the voices the audience can and Simba cannot. He begins to sing]

Rafiki: Night,

And the spirit of life…

[He puts a hand to his ear]

Calling…

[The chorus answers him, quiet at first]

Chorus: Oh, oh, iyo

[Rafiki holds Simba’s head and tilts it upwards, as though to make him hear]

Rafiki: Mamela…

[The chorus answers again, stronger]

Chorus: Oh, oh, iyo

[Simba pulls out and turns away, holding his head low in the opposite direction]

Rafiki: And a voice…

Just the fear of a child,

[Rafiki reaches over to gently touch Simba on the back. The lion sighs, and reluctantly turns his head]

Rafiki: Answers…

Chorus: Oh, oh, iyo

Rafiki: Woah mamela…

[Rafiki moves his staff in a wide arc. On the second echo from the chorus Simba straightens up and his eyes widen, as though he has finally heard something and it has startled him]

Chorus: Oh, oh, iyo

[Rafiki hobbles over to the edge of the pool with his staff and raises it with both hands above his head as he chants]

Rafiki: Ubukhosi bo khokho!

[The pool glows and ripples violently as the voices respond]

Chorus: We ndodana ye sizwe sonke

[This terrifies Simba, and he instinctively he starts to flee. But suddenly, impossibly, Rafiki blocks his path with an outstretched hand]

Rafiki: Wait!

[He slowly lowers his palm and Simba relaxes. Rafiki points his staff upwards]

Rafiki: There’s no mountain too great!

[He extends his hand again and reaches through the mane to touch Simba’s heart. The lion looks down then back up, eyes wide]

Rafiki: Here these words and have faith,

Woah-oah-oh!

[Rafiki once again hobbles over to the pond, and extends his staff to lightly tap the surface of the pool.]

Rafiki [spoken]: Have faith.

Chorus: Hela hey mamela (x4)

[Simba looks down into the gently rippling pool. He looks at his own reflection becoming more and more distorted, until the ripples clear and he sees a lion that looks him, but who is broader, older, and wears a sad expression on his face: it is Mufasa]

Rafiki: He lives in you,

[Simba gasps, and after a moment of staring, recoils from the reflection, breathing heavily. He looks at Rafiki, who nods and places his hand on his chest]

Rafiki: He lives in me.

[Rafiki waves his staff in a wide angle, and Simba follows its direction and looks out over the vast, empty plains]

Rafiki: He watches over,

Everything we see.

[Rafiki kneels down and scoops some of the water into his hands, he spreads it over Simba’s forehead just as he did when he was a cub]

Rafiki: Into the water,

[Simba shakes and sneezes it off, and Rafiki cannot help but smile]

Rafiki: Into the truth.

[Simba crouches down for another look into the pool, and is once again faced with his father’s sad face staring back at him]

Rafiki: In your reflection,

[The visage of Mufasa disappears, leaving only Simba’s reflection in the pool]

Rafiki: He lives in you.

[A fierce wind unexpectedly picks up, blowing Simba’s mane into his face. He gets up and looks around in confusion]

Simba: What is that?

[The wind is similarly buffeting Rafiki, but he does not fight it. He looks up at the sky and nods knowingly]

Rafiki: Ah, looks like the winds are changing.

[A sudden storm rolls in over the plain. Clouds gather, the wind blows at the grass, and bolts of lightning flash in the sky. The roar of thunder swells, and in the flashes of light Simba thinks he can see the heads of great lions, roaring their anger.

Clouds begin to gather in the centre of the skyline, and accumulate in a curious shape. Beams of light begin to penetrate it. A golden glow begins to wash over Simba’s face]

Simba [astonished, choking]: Father?

[The clouds have taken the shape of a lion. It lifts its head and opens its eyes, and in a flash the night sky is filled with golden light]

Rafiki [V.O]: He lives in you!

[Mufasa’s face stares disapprovingly down at Simba, who crouches in fear like a terrified kitten. Rafiki continues to sing but has curiously disappeared from the scene, the chorus keeps up the ‘Hey Mamela’s]

Rafiki: He lives in me!

[Around Mufasa’s head and down into the sky, the shapes of many animals and birds run and fly: zebras, flamingos, monkeys, weavers, buffalo; every animal that was once found in the Pridelands is present (reminiscent of the transformation scene in Brother Bear). Grunts, squawks, roars, and all manner of animal noises fill the air. Simba stands up and looks on in awe]

Rafiki: He watches over,

[A spectral elephant lumbers past Simba with a trumpet and glares at him accusingly, a giraffe floats by in the other direction and does not look down]

Rafiki: Everything we see!

[A ghostly pack of wild dogs leap and run in circles around Simba. From Mufasa’s height (on the drum fill) a huge crocodile swims down through the sky towards Simba and opens its jaws wide enough to engulf him]

Rafiki: Into the water,

[Simba braces himself as the jaws snap shut, but the crocodile disintegrates. He looks back up, but Mufasa stills look down at him with the same disappointed stare]

Rafiki: Into the truth,

[The spirits are reaching a fever pitch: a cheetah, a rhino, zebra and gazelles run right through Simba, while flocks of birds, flamingos, and an eagle fly above him, but they all seem to be gravitating back up into the sky towards Mufasa]

Rafiki: In your reflection,

[For a brief moment, the spirits turn their heads to look at him. Then all disintegrate as one and the night sky is dark and full of stars. All except for Mufasa, whose ghostly head shines blue]

Rafiki: He lives in you…

[‘He Lives In You’ fades out. Simba steps forwards. Mufasa’s ghost is surrounded by swirling clouds and fills the sky as he looks down at his son and begins to speak, voice amplified and heavy with sadness. ‘Remember Who You Are’ fades in from Mufasa’s theme]

Mufasa: Simba…you have forgotten me…

Simba: No, how could I?

Mufasa: You have forgotten who you are and so forgotten me. Look inside yourself Simba, you are more than what you have become. You must take your place in the Circle of Life.

[Mufasa is never accusatory. He speaks softly and is never stern, but the disappointment in his expression and voice hurts Simba more than harsh words ever could]

Simba [looks up pleading at his father then lowers his head]: How can I go back? I’m not who I used to be…

Mufasa: Remember who you are. You are my son, and the one true king.

[Simba looks up on ‘son’, but lowers it again on ‘King’, ashamed]

Simba: I’m sorry, I don’t know how to be like you. I don’t deserve to take your place.

Mufasa: When I was King, I did many great deeds. But what I am most proud of, is having you for my son.

[This revelation seems to be a simultaneous shock and a comfort to Simba, but he is still hesitant]

Simba: That…was a long time ago…

Mufasa: No Simba, that is forever…

[The clouds surrounding him start to draw back, and the visage of Mufasa goes with them]

Mufasa: Remember who you are…

[Simba, suddenly overcome with panic, starts to run after him. Calling out more desperately each time]

Simba: No! Wait!

Mufasa: Remember…

Simba: Father…

Simba [he cries out, a frightened cub again]: Dad!

Simba [stops running, exhausted and on the verge of tears]: Don’t leave me again…

[Mufasa’s form has all but faded. The night sky has gone from inky black to a softer blue, the stars are beginning to fade and a faint glow shines on the distant hills]

Mufasa: I never have, and I never will.

Remember…

[Simba slows to a walk, and then stops and sits upon a grassy hill, looking up the now-empty sky. His theme begins to play. He is deep in thought, but is suddenly interrupted when Rafiki appears, seemingly from nowhere, shaking with laughter and hobbling on his stick to join the lion. His hair is haphazard from the wind]

Rafiki: Who-ah! What was that? The weather? HAH! Very peculiar…don’t you think?

[Idly, he sits down to smooth out his hair. Simba looks up at the sky]

Simba: You were right: the winds are changing

Rafiki: Ah, change-

[He picks a flea out from his hair, and tosses it into his mouth.]

Rafiki: -Is good.

Simba: Yeah, but it’s not easy. I know what I have to do, but going back means I have to face my past

[He looks off]

Simba: I’ve been running from it for so long…

[While Simba has been talking, Rafiki stands up with a devilish grin on his face. Grasping the staff in both hands, and moving with considerable effort, he whacks Simba with it over the top of his head. Simba growls in pain, and shakes his head, recoiling slightly]

Simba: Ow! What was that for?

Rafiki: It doesn’t matter! It’s in the past!

[He laughs hysterically at his own joke, while Simba rubs his head, less than amused]

Simba: Yeah but it still hurts.

[Rafiki nods his head knowingly, placing a hand on Simba’s shoulder]

Rafiki: Oh yes, the past can hurt. But the way I see it you can either run from it, or…learn from it!

[He swings his staff at Simba’s head again, and lets out a laugh when Simba dodges]

Rafiki: HAH! You see? And so, I ask again…Who are you?

[Simba stands up, plants his paw down and looks up into the sky]

Simba: I am Simba, the son of Mufasa.

Rafiki: And…what are you going to do?

Simba: Well first…

[A slow grin appears on his face and he looks at Rafiki, his old playful self]

Simba: I’m gonna take your stick!

[Before the monkey can react, Simba grabs the staff between his teeth and tosses it to one side]

Rafiki: No, no, no, not the stick!

[As Rafiki picks up the staff he looks up to see Simba running off into the grass. He calls after him]

Rafiki: Hey! Where are you going?

[Simba stops for a moment to look up at him. ]

Simba: I’m going back!

Rafiki: Good! Go on! Get out of here!

[He laughs as ‘He Lives In You’ fades back in. There is a low shot of some grass and on the first line Simba comes bounding over, leaving it swaying in the wind]

Rafiki: He lives in you!

[Closeup of Simba’s face, happy. He sings with Rafiki in the same style as the Broadway Reprise]

Simba: Woah-oh-ho, he lives in me!

[Cut between Rafiki and Simba for each of their sung lines. Rafiki is on top of the hill waving his staff in celebration, the camera is closeup on Simba’s face]

Rafiki: He watches over!

Simba: Watches over-

Rafiki: Everything we see!

Simba: Ooh everything we see!

[Simba runs across a log spanning a river reminiscent of the one from the original movie. We see his reflection in the water]

Rafiki: Into the water!

[The camera stays on the log after Simba leaves. A moment later a second reflection passes over the water, a lion, larger than Simba, but no one is on the log. Cutaway to a front-shot of Simba’s face as he sings]

Simba: Into the water!

Rafiki: Into the truth!

[Simba suddenly stops as he sees something on the ground. It is a large lion’s pawprint]

Rafiki: In your reflection!

[Reverently, Simba places his paw inside: it finally fits]

Simba: In my reflection…

Rafiki: He lives in you!

[Simba looks up and sees something we cannot. He starts to walk towards it, and as he speeds up a smile spreads across his face. As he is running full speed he comes out of shadow and his face is washed in gold. A tear rolls down his face]

Rafiki: He lives in you!

[Simba appears at the top of a hill, the sun blazing behind him, and he lets out a mighty ROAR. Cut to Nala running through the jungle, she stops and turns when she hears him, and we get a close up of the joyful recognition on her face]

Rafiki: He lives in me!

[Closeup of Simba’s head as he ROARs again. Timon and Pumbaa lift their heads above a bush. Zazu, perched on a branch, jolts awake and struggles to regain balance. He looks around, dazed]

Zazu: Simba?

Rafiki: He watches over!

[Simba roars again. An elephant and a giraffe lift their heads. A cheetah runs up a log as a rhino looks up in the foreground. A hippo and a crocodile surface from a river]

Rafiki: Everything we see!

[The final roar is offscreen. Zebras and gazelle lift their heads, birds, monkeys, lizards, a leopard, all look up. The jungle stirs for the King]

[Camera cuts back as Simba finishes his roar. He stops for a moment then runs down the hill. Rafiki takes up the chant and the chorus sing the remainder of the song]

Chorus: Into the water!

[Nala begins to run in the opposite direction. Timon and Pumbaa hastily push through the bush. Zazu takes off with an ecstatic laugh. Rafiki appears on the same ledge Simba just left and raises his staff into the air as a flock of birds takes off over him]

Chorus: Into the truth!

[The elephant and the giraffe begin to walk. The cheetah and the rhino look at each other then start to run. The hippo and the crocodile climb out of the water. The herds and animals of the jungle scatter. All follow in Simba’s wake]

Chorus: In your reflection!

[Simba’s paw hits sand]

Rafiki: He lives in you…

[Zoom-out to the iconic slow motion shot of Simba running through the desert back towards the Pridelands. The song fades out]

#Out of Service Out of Africa (OOC)#The Lion King #The Lion King 2019 #long post /#I've been envisioning this for so long in my head its good to get it out #but also feels weird to post. Like what if nobody else likes it or can imagine it the same way you know?#might do something similar for Shadowland and King of Pride Rock

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