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ultimatetornshipper · 4 years

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To bee or not to bee - a Jasonette fic

@moonlitceleste I almost let this die, I honestly really wanted it dead but alas it was clearly meant to bee

(WARNING: contains puns, angst, crack and fluff. You have been warned)

If you don’t want to read my sarcastic/funny/fangirl commentary, skip the brackets

I have another bee movie au, i didn't plan it ("I don't claim to be proud. But my head won't be hung in shame. I didn't plan it. But the light turned red, and I ran it. And I'm still standing. It's not what I wanted, but now that it's right here. I understand it. A story written by my own hand" as quoted from Waitress), it just happened and i just couldn't resist. I'm not sorry

So what if instead of dying Joker turned Jason into a bee. Because Harley convinced him and told him that people were talking shit about him because he's named the Joker and they don't think he's funny. It surprisingly works. (Obviously Harley was the one who made the plan and did the magic I mean really what do u expect of Joker?)

Ok so now Jason’s a bee right? And he’s like 15 because .~:°*plot*°:~.

They look for him and Jason’s like flying around like, “Guys! Guys I’m right here!” Poor kid. (I mean I would make it funny but like angst)

Obviously they don’t understand him because he’s a fucking bee and Joker cackles madly and Harley laughs too but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes and it's kinda that laugh u do when ur supes overwhelmed and sound maniacal but like soft (I’m a simp for Harley being portrayed as the complex and beautiful character she id leave me be)

Jason is very sad. And also quite pissed

Not knowing what else to do he follows Batman home, he listens to them trying to find him, watches Dick freak out and Alfred wipe a tear the rest of the family doesn’t see.

Jason tries to approach Alfred, hoping he somehow recognizes what happened

He doesn’t, Alfred closes him in a glass and paper and takes him outside.

He sneaks back into the manor and sleeps in one of the flowers (it's a red tulip because aesthetic) next to his bed. He cries himself to sleep. (Can bees cry? Is this possible? Is this like a thing??? I don't need sleep i need answers)

The thing is even tho he's now a bee, he still has the durability of a human, so even stepping on him won’t crush him and he still has a human lifespan

Because Harley isn’t a monster and what Puddin didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. (Simping for Harley Quinn strike 2)

After a while at the manor and following them he decides he can’t stand it anymore. Alfred has thrown him out three times and Dick freaks out each time he sees him as he’s a tad allergic (read: he would die if stung)

Which is how Jason found out that getting hit with a newspaper wouldn’t kill him.

He leaves.

He’s a bee and it’s not like he knows about a way to reverse it.

But there was someone who might.

He goes to Arkham.

Luckily, Harley was still there. (YAY we get to see mah gurl)

He flies into her cell and she just watches him, then she seems to click. She gives him a small smile, “Hi birdie,” (she puns, honestly would make for a better clown of Gotham and I saw an idea for that once where she steals Joker’s title once and I’ve been yearning for it ever since)

She holds out a finger and he lands on it, she laughs but tears come to her eyes,” Hey at least you’re not dead. That was his original plan you know? To kill you with a crowbar. I convinced him this would be a cruller fate. I guess maybe it is, but at least this way... Ugh how the hell did I get here,” (Harley angst, honestly it’s all just self service at this point)

He simply stared at her as she cried, and he felt his heart clench. From here she looked so sad... not crazy, just broken.

She took a deep breath and looked at him seriously, “Look kid, there’s a way to get you back to normal, you just need to find someone, they’re called the Guardian of the Miraculous. They can help, I don’t know who or where they are, just follow your instincts. And come say hi when you get back, yeah? I could do with the... healthier company. And remember, I bee-lieve in you,” (Gasp what a shock, you mean to tell me Miraculous magic is gonna be involved in this Maribat au. Well I never what a shock. Also puns. Oh and she’s so nice to him. We love Harley in this house)

He sat there and studied her for a while more, there was more to her than it seemed. Than what he’d assumed.

But for now, he had his own problems to deal with.

She gave him a small wave as he left. (Adorable)

He left and started considering his options, as a bee, it would probably be safest to stay inside, away from birds and things that would view him as a snack.

Staying in Arkham seemed like his best option, as bad an option as it was.

Most of the prisoners wouldn’t have a second thought about trying to crush him.

A strong scent of flowers and plants suddenly came to his attention.

Of course! Poison Ivy. (Round 2 of me simping for beautiful, complex, badass women. Too bad Catwoman ain’t here.)

He followed the smell to her cell and saw her staring out of her small window. He was still taking a chance, but she loved plants and flowers and bees were important to those, weren’t they?

He flew to the window bars and sat on one. The moment she spotted him she smiled widely, in a soft way he hadn’t seen on her before. (Ahhhhh my darling plant redhead. I love writing the Sirens as soft badasses. Also has anyone noticed how rare brunettes are in superhero worlds? Like both in Marvel and DC but like irl brown is like a pretty damn common)

She held out her finger, “Hey there, little guy. A little far from home, aren’t we?”

She had no idea.

He landed on her fingertip and watched in awe as a flower and a few leaves formed on her hand. She let the flower grow itself around one of her window bars and held her finger next to one of the petals.

“There you go, it’s all I can manage with my power dampers. I haven’t had company in a while,” she said softly as he crawled into the flower. He made himself comfortable.

She laughed to herself and he saw her shaking her head, “Talking to a bee, well, I guess stranger things have happened,” (yeah ur crush is dating a green haired murderous psychopath and you get beat up by a billionaire in a batsuit on like a biweekly basis)

The flower was soft and warm and felt safer than he expected it to. He found that he could move between the petals but decided to curl up in the middle. (It's a pink rose this time because fuck yeah flowers)

He slept better than he had in days.

The next morning he took his leave, stopping only at the manor to say a mental goodbye.

Then he headed off.

Jason flew a lot the first few months, our boy was smart at least, travelling with a cruise ship on its way to Europe.

It was Spring in the Northern Hemisphere so he had until Autumn until it was in his best interest to head south to avoid the snow. He decided to head towards Africa when summer started coming to an end. (I have no reasoning for this, just that I want to)

His first spot would be the United Kingdom. Then he'd go through the rest of Europe following his instincts.

At least it was Spring.

Jason diligently searched through England, Scotland and Ireland but found nothing.

By the time he was done he realized it was time to start heading South. He’d decided to take another cruise to South-Africa, where it would be summer, he searched through the country until April. He would admit that he didn’t feel drawn to anything in any of their 9 provinces so his search wasn’t as diligent as in England. He didn’t feel anymore drawn to the neighbouring countries like Namibia or Botswana either.

(Once again no reasoning for why I picked these countries, I mean the French Hugonotes went there when they were fleeing from the French Catholics who wanted them dead so I guess I could make up some bullshit about Mari having an ancestor in common with someone there or maybe it was just the ship he could easiest get access I don’t know, you make something up)

Which was why he decided to go back to Europe as soon as April hit.

He hitched another ride on a cruise headed for France.

It’s been a year since he got turned into a damn bee.

He was sixteen now and while he’d seen some amazing things all through South-Africa (a place that proves that humans really do have a weirdly obvious way of naming things I mean the Amazon river and Chad Lake are just more examples really) as well as the United Kingdom, all he really wanted was to go back home, to be human again.

When he gets there he diligently makes his way through France, eventually arriving in Paris.

He lands on the tip top of the Eiffel Tower. As in the point of the antenna because why not.

During his year he realized that birds and other animals tended to avoid him, sensing his strangeness so that was at least one positive.

He stared out over the city. Well, the one good thing about this was definitely the views he’s been allowed to see.

That was until a massive explosion hit.

“What the fuck?” he said out loud, searching for the source. No one understood him, human or bee, but talking to himself reminded him of his humanity.

He found the source of the explosion but just as he started flying to its general direction, a blinding white light shone followed by a horde of ladybugs that were fixing everything that was wrong. (Imagine how scary this would lowkey be irl tho? Just a shit ton of Ladybugs descending on Paris my dude)

He decided that he needed a night’s sleep before he could even begin an attempt at deciphering what had just happened. He flew lower, finding a nice little balcony right above a bakery. And it had flowers. (I’ll give u five seconds to guess who this balcony belongs to)

He flew down, exploring.

He turned around when he heard a loud thump from behind him. What appeared to be a super heroine in red spandex with black spots had landed on the balcony.

She detransformed and started to talking to a floating bug- fairy thing. Strange. Though it wasn’t like he could judge, as an ex superhero sidekick who was thought to be dead but was actually a bee.

She disappeared down her trapdoor and he made himself comfortable in one of her flowers.

He slept soundly until somewhere during a night another thump woke him. He looked out of his sleeping spot to see a cat superhero stand on her balcony. He leaned down and knocked on her small trapdoor.

Ah, a teammate of hers, they were probably meeting about something, he thought as he heard her open up.

It didn’t take him long to realize that even though they were teammates, the cat, Chat Noir he later learned, was not aware of this fact.

Oh this was rich.

He couldn’t bee-lieve his eyes. (ok so Jason used self-referential puns but can you really blame him? It’s really just me and my pun problem so don’t blame the kid)

He was going on and on about his feelings for Ladybug, the girl’s hero form, that were clashing with his feelings for another girl he fenced with, while she listened, clearly fed up with it.

He also claimed that he thought that maybe they were one and the same. Which, to Jason, was hilarious as he was literally saying this to the actual Ladybug’s face.

Marinette- he learned from the Cat’s ongoing blabbering, he was a real blab-bee mouth, - was clearly tired, nodding half asleep, probably having heard it all before.

When he finally left Jason went to sleep again, incredibly amused and even more thankful that he was fluent in French. ( u think this is plot convenience? Just u wait mah dude iz about to get worse)

The next morning he decided to follow her to school. Which was how he learned of her huge crush on a boy named Adrien Agreste.

After learning the boy could fence thanks to Marinette’s obsession interest in him, he got suspicious.

Could it really bee? (not a typo)

After seeing the boy transform a month or two later for patrol he laughed like he hadn’t for over a year. It very much was. He'd spent the time staying on Marinette's balcony and decided to stay another week before moving on and continuing his search, after all, he couldn't stop now that he finally felt like he was getting close.

The next day she got home crying, claiming that Adrien had started dating someone else.

Kagami, she called the girl. Probably the fencer if he had to place a bet.

“I’m sorry, Marinette,” Tikki told the girl.

“That boy's an idiot,” he said, speaking his mind, another thing he’d gotten use to being allowed to do without consequence.

Marinette nearly jumped out of her skin, she looked around and he realized that she could hear him. He hadn’t really spoken too much before, at least not when she was around. He was usually content with watching her do whatever she was doing that day.

“Tikki, did you hear that?” she asked, Tikki nodded, her eyes landing on him.

“Oh,” the kwami said softly, flying over to him, “Oh, you poor thing, who did this to you?” (Tikki is the first ever mom friend and u can fight me on this)

He stared up at her, flying so that they were eye level.

Marinette gaped at them, heartbreak seemingly forgotten, “Tik- Tikki, are- who are you talking- are you talking to a – Tikki is that a bee?!” she finally spluttered out.

“No,” Tikki said, studying him, he felt his heart twist in hope and his stomach roll in surprise. Did she know?

“I mean yes, but no. He’s a boy whose been turned into a bee,” Tikki explained, turning back to Marinette.

“Oh,” Marinette said softly, turning to him. She held her hand out and after some hesitation he landed on her finger. She looked at him then back to Tikki.

How did they know? Would he really be that lucky? Was this real?

“Uhm, how?” she said, staring at him in disbelief. He tried shrugging but realized he couldn’t anymore- beecause of his- well if you haven’t caught on to the fact that he’s a bee by now you should really start from the beginning of this story.

“I don’t know, but Joker and Harley Quinn were involved,” he said.

Marinette stared at him in disbelief, blinking a few times. She sat in shock a few moments longer. (Our darling is an awkward lil bean, and while in media awkward is portrayed as cute, irl it isn’t, it’s just well… awkward. And we’re writing a serious and realistic fic about this sidekick of guy who wears a batsuit/billionaire's ward getting turned into a bee and falling in love with a magical girl fighting a butterfly man- none of this unrealistic nonsense)

Tikki flew over and sat on Marinette’s shoulder while her holder processed the information, the kwami stared at him sweetly, “What’s your name?”

He swallowed, he hadn’t said his name in ages, it stirred up something (emotion, it’s called emotion, Jason, you know? The thing Batman can’t process??) in him, “Jason Todd,”

Marinette seemed to finally snap out of her daze, “That sounds American. Are you American? Wait if Joker and Harley are involved then you’re probably from Gotham. Are you? Wait I’ve seen the name Jason Todd somewhere. Weren’t you some rich guy’s ward? It was all over the news last year, Alya wouldn’t stop talking about it for a month, she had a million theories. He was – you were announced dead two months after Robin was taken captive by Joker, everyone thought he was – you were killed. Joker made outrageous claims as they arrested him... saying that they’d never find Robin... that he’d all but disappeared in thin air... that he wouldn’t be the only one wearing stripes... I remember because he put a really weird emphasis on the words be and stripes and...,” her eyes widened and she gasped as she looked at him in what could only be described as pure shock. (Yes this happens, people can talk for this long and since I personally know headcannon that Marinette is ADHD this long ass paragraph is just another Tuesday bud)

He sat there, surprised that she figured it all out so quickly. (yeah bub it’s called plot convenience and it’s because of me, the writer, I don’t wanna focus on secret ID shenanigans, I got other plans for yall, also Mari is smart, don’t underestimate her)

“You’re Robin,” she breathed, “they turned you into a bee. Wait- How the hell did they turn you into a bee?!”

He chuckled, “Bee-lieve me I’ve been asking myself that question for more than a year,”

She bit her lip, seemingly contemplating his words and ignoring his pun, “Tikki do you know anything that could help? Do you think Miraculous magic-,”

He felt his heart stop, he flew up to her face, flying at eye level, “Wait, did you just say Miraculous? Harley said if I could find the Guardian of the miraculous, they could help me, do you know where they are? I’ve been looking for so long,” (‘°;~*.plot convenience.*~;°’)

Marinette blinked at him and Tikki's face dawned with realization.

“I’m the guardian of the miraculous,” Marinette said softly, “Tikki, that means I can help him, right?”

Tikki nodded and he had to dial down the hope in his heart because the look on her face told him there was a Kim Kardashian sized butt on the way.

“We can help him, but we’re gonna have to wait. (don’t look at me like that, do u want them to have time to bond or not?) You’re not trained enough to pull it off yet. If you were to do it now, all three of us would be out of commission for far too long, especially with Hawkmoth on the prowl,” Tikki said.

They must’ve been able to sense his sadness because they were staring at him with an incredible amount of pity. The amount was quite unsettling actually and he suddenly felt a primal like urge to pun. (An extract from my book: “My unhealthy coping mechanisms and how to use them,” specifically Chapter 8: “Humor hides the pain”)

Suddenly Tikki’s face lit up, the whiplash of her expression change throwing any notion of punning out the window.

“Well, there’s one thing we could do,” she said, excitedly, zipping buzzing around “If he wears a miraculous, he'll return back to human form while transformed,”

Marinette perked up at the idea, but confusion soon overtook her features, “But Tikki, most of the miraculous are bigger than he is,”

Tikki waved her away,” It’s fine it’ll work,”

“Ok,” Marinette said after a bit of thought. She stood and he followed while she started climbing down her skylight,” I’m thinking you can try each of them out for different patrols and then we’ll see which one matches you best. This could be fun, having some fun sized company while figuring out how to defeat Hawkmoth,”

He laughed, flying near her ear, “Fun sized, huh? I’ll have you know I’m considered tall in human form, unlike some of us,”

She laughed and rolled her still tear stained eyes, and so, the beginning of a bee-autiful friendship bloomed.

Marinette walked to her closet and Jason took in her room. It was very pink, but in a well-balanced way - it wasn’t completely overbearing. His eye caught on a few pictures of Adrien Agreste on her wall but figured now wouldn’t be a great time to bring it up. (Look he’s already more emotionally aware, #foreshadowing of character development)

She removed a big box from her closet. She opened it and it was filled with what appeared to be a bunch of scrap materials. At the bottom she removed a bigger bundle of black and red fabric and he flew closer.

She put it in her lap and Jason had to do a double take when he realized that her hands were glowing and what the actual fuck- it was a box now -fuck fuck fuck- why was it a box? How? What- Jason was pretty sure he did not sign up for this.

She put the box down in front of her and to his relief she opened her mouth to speak as she lifted the lid, so he’d understand everyth- and its jewellery.

The box contained jewellery. Animal themed jewellery by the looks of things.

He then realized that these were probably the other miraculous.

She looked over each artefact before handing him the yellow and black hairclip.

Out of all of them, she picked the bee miraculous.

“Hilarious,” he replied dryly, giving her a look, he realized too late she wouldn’t be able to register- on account of, well you know… (if u don’t know by now, you don’t get to find out anymore)

She gave him a grin and replied, “I certainly think it is,”

Her teasing expression turned into one of worry, “I mean we could switch it out if it makes you uncomfortable-,” (being a sassy people pleaser with no filters really do be like this tho)

He laughed, “Don’t worry, I’m only teasing. What do I do?”

Marinette opened her mouth to answer before obviously realizing that she didn’t have an answer. She turned to Tikki and the kwami had a fond smile on her face before turning to Jason. (Just Tikki casually mentor- moming Mari because Fu is useless)

“Just step on the miraculous, it’ll sense that you’re human,” the creature replied.

When he stepped onto the bee miraculous, its kwami appeared.

Pollen stared at him for a few seconds before she realized what was happening.

After an explanation about her power set and what exactly he could do in suit, he transformed.

He felt his human body appearing. He was taller and more built than he remembered being. His flying clearly had physical consequences then, not that he was complaining.

His suit included a pair of bee wings. His hair was longer than he remembered it being too.

He had a black leather jacket and combat boots. With it was a pair of practical black leggings and a yellow t-shirt with three thick black stripes. (The three stripes represent each one of his families, the Todds, the Waynes and The Dupain-Chengs, because I can) He also had a pair of black gloves. His boots had yellow laces. On his face was a black and yellow striped domino mask. The top sat on his hip. The bee miraculous sat on the middle of his chest in the form of a broach.

He all but sprinted to the mirror. He stared at his face, his blue eyes and his nose that never healed quite right after breaking it that one time. His black hair was messy and stuck up every which way, his cheekbones were as high as always, and he had a little bit of stubble and it was so familiar and so new all at once.

He touched his face, barely registering the tears flowing down his cheeks and laughed in relief. He was human again. This was real! He could- he was closer to normal than he ever thought he’d get to be.

He turned to Marinette who was staring up at him in shock. He picked her up and spun her around, laughing in joy. And after a moment she joined in. He put her down and put his hands on her shoulders, smiling widely, “Thank you. Thank you so much,”

She smiled up at him, a slightly sad look on her face, “I’m sorry, it’s not permanent,”

“Don’t be sorry. For the first time I have hope. It will be permanent eventually, and till then, I have you with me, right?” he squeezed her shoulder, still high on the feeling of hope and warmth and familiarity.

When he was overcome with the sudden urge to pull her into a hug, he didn’t resist.

He held her close, resting his chin on her head, “Damn, I missed this. Hugging, I mean. I haven’t... it’s been so long,” (not that he got all that many hugs from Bruce “emotionally constipated” Wayne)

She wrapped her arms around him, “I can imagine,”

They stood there a while before the time for patrol came along. She transformed and they made their way to the Eiffel tower, where they met Chat.

The cat themed hero rose his brow questioningly, “I thought we didn’t recruit new heroes unless it was an emergency?”

Ladybug smiled nonchalantly, “It’s Guardian business, he’s gonna be a permanent fixture in our team for at least a few months so we might as well get used to working as a team,”

Chat Noir eyed him wearily and he stepped forward, sticking his hand out, “Hi, I’m Blackback, nice to meet you,”

Chat Noir shook his hand and gave Ladybug a sceptical look, “An American? Really?”

“Please Chat, he's not American, it’s just the glamour hiding his actual accent,” she replied simply, shooting Jason a worried look.

He couldn’t give away his identity, but he was also technically a bee, he didn’t really have an identity to give away. So, her behaviour was strange. Unless she wanted to give him an identity somehow?

He couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of patrol.

When they got home Marinette revealed that she wanted to give him the fox miraculous. If they asked Trixx she would be able to design the costume in a way that allowed him to look like a normal civilian, without the mask.

Trixx's glamour was also stronger than the rest so his true identity as Jason Todd would be protected.

And she could help him fake an accent.

Since Marinette was a year younger than him he could just pick up where he left off school wise.

She convinced her parents that he was an exchange student in desperate need of a place to stay because the person he would’ve stayed with backed out last minute.

They agreed easily and Jason decided to not question it.

It was his third family. His second if you only counted non abusive ones. First if you wanted one with a healthy family dynamic.

They got him a fake birth certificate and name. He went with the alias Thomas Grayson. He thought it was kind of funny, and it paid homage to both Bruce and Dick. It gave him something from home to hold on to. (Jason isn’t really salty about not being avenged in this au, he didn’t die and Talia and the pit madness wasn’t there to egg on his anger. But maybe if I ever get back to this au we could do a thing with it… guess we’ll have to wait and see ;-) no promises tho)

He built himself another home with Marinette and her family. And before he knew it, he was happy again. He felt secure.

Through the weeks, he ingrained himself into Marinette's life. In a blink of an eye, they were best friends, and he couldn’t imagine life without her.

He loved living with her family as she trained to be strong enough to turn him back to normal.

He grew close to Marinette’s friends and was her shoulder to cry on about Adrien. He and Adrien got along pretty well, and he and Marc and Rose traded Literature jokes. Max would join in when it involved Shakespeare.

Then Lila happened. (She’s a staple in Maribat fiction. U can’t have Maribat without Lila. Or well u can but that’s usually a very specific au)

Her lies started out simple enough. Then she started manipulating everyone and he, Marinette, Chloe and Adrien were one scheme away from being ostracized. They sat in the back row.

They ignored her sneers and let her lie to her heart’s content. Then one day she said something that made both Marinette and Jason freeze.

“You know, I was childhood friends with Jason Todd (I know she usually gets the names wrong but like her knowing the name just makes this next bit better) You know, Bruce Wayne’s ward who died a while ago? It was just so sad. He grew up in a nice family but his parents both died in a car accident and Brucie took pity on him. He even let us keep in contact afterwards, since our parents were such good friends. We all miss them dearly of course. We were neighbours the year we lived in Gotham, you know? We'd play every day-,” she started fake crying, “Oh it just gets too much sometimes,”

But to Jason’s shock Alya didn’t move to console Lila, in fact, she was staring at the brunette in shock.

He turned his gaze to Marinette to see the girl wearing the biggest, coldest, most satisfied smirk. She rested her chin on her hands and grinned at Lila in a way that made shivers go down his spine.

He turned back, this ought to be good.

And it was.

Alya absolutely lost it.

She ripped Lila a new one and frankly? Jason was impressed. (Alya has a temper and she’s a fangirl, and we all know how we get when someone gets something wrong about one of our hyperfixations, even if it’s an old one so like yall can imagine how bad Lila had fucked up)

When an akuma flew in towards Lila, Alya grabbed it, staring the girl down with a fury he didn’t know she could possess, “Don’t you dare! Do you think I’m blind? I’ve seen how easily you get akumatized and this time I’m not letting it happen!”

Of course, Alya then got akumatized but hey it beat another version of Lila.

Everyone made up but they weren’t quite as close as before. Their group tended to consist mostly out of him, Marinette, Chloe, Adrien, Kagami and Luka.

Other than that incident and akuma attacks, life was pretty good.

In fact, it was great.

He and Marinette would spend nights on her balcony, laughing and slow dancing. They star gazed and went on patrols. He helped her when she got nightmares and she returned the favour. They went on long walks and spent the holidays together. They crammed for tests and he played model for her designs. They worked in the bakery and hung out with their friends both in and out of suit. They’d joke about his technical bee-ness and he and Chat drove her mad with puns. In retaliation she’d introduce him as her bee friend to people or only give him honey and bee themed things. (ok this sentence sounds weird but I mean like when she brings them sweets from the bakery to snack on while working and stuff.)

And one laugh, memory and fight at a time, he started to fall. (I just want good things for Jason, and really can you blame me?)

Through the months, he kept up to date on the news about Bruce Wayne and Marinette held his hand each time a new kid joined his brood. She reminded him that no child could be replaced and reassured him that of course Bruce would want him back when they figured everything out.

And if he didn’t, she’d kick his ass into space, and he’d stay with her family in Paris- a family she made sure he knew he was a part of.

He helped Sabine in the kitchen and was the only one who came closest to beating Marinette’s Ultimate Mega Strike 3 record. Tom taught him to shave and bake. He was integrated into their family and they treated him as part of the family.

But even if they were giving him everything they were, he missed Bruce. And Dick. And Alfred. And Barbara. And Gotham. He missed them all so much. He missed home.

So, 14 months later, when Marinette told him they had a meeting with the Justice League about the Hawkmoth situation, Jason felt his heart skip a beat.

“What?” he asked softly, his eyes brimming with tears (Marinette taught him how to emotion, you see. So Jason is emotionally stable-ish enough to cry without feeling embarrassed about it), “I get to see him again?”

Marinette nodded and hugged him from behind, “I’m planning on telling him what happened. Is there anything you can tell him to verify who you are?”

Memories from a million years ago entered his mind, “Yes,”

She took his hand and took a step back, “And I think I can fix you before we go, I’m strong enough. But I’d still like your help in the final battle, I mean I know you’re going home but...,”

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and smiled, “Of course, Pixie. I’ll always be there for you when you need me,”

He pressed a kiss against her forehead, a movement so familiar it was practically a part of him. He pulled her close and cried into her hair.

“What if he doesn’t believe me?” he asked softly, after a while, resting his chin on top of her head.

“He will,” she replied, tightening her grip around his waist.

They both knew she had no guarantee of that. That she had no way of knowing for sure. Neither of them did. And it scared him more than he wanted to admit.

The next day they do the magic turning back thing. It freaks him out quite a bit but not as much as her revealing the miraculous freaked him out the first time, you get kinda used to the magic shenaniganary. They’re both passed out for an hour afterwards and when they wake up, he holds her, crying, because he was finally, finally back to normal and this was real and permanent, and it was over.

She cried with him and held him, and they then went out and he wore a shirt she made for him, and they got ice cream the next day. They celebrated some more and went to the park with the squad and they had a picnic.

It was better than he ever could've imagined.

While the sun was setting, they stood back on her balcony, where they first spoke all those months ago, slow dancing. He pulled away and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled at her as the orange light of the sunset shone on them. (So aesthetic)

“Thank you, Marinette, for everything,” he says as he rubs his thumb across her cheek. His hand holding her face. She puts her hand over his and closes her eyes, savouring the moment.

She opened her eyes again and smiled, “I’d do it again and more, if it meant I’d get to be with you,”

He started leaning down, “If I lost you, I’d fly all over the world just to find you again,”

She raised to her tip toes, faces millimetres from one another, blue bells meeting ice, “So it was all worth it in the end?”

He moves closer, eyes searching hers. “Definitely,” he breathes.

She closes the distance, and he picks her up and spins her around. They break apart and their laughter fills the air.

(now that’s enough fluff, allow me to drown you in angst)

The next day they stood on the Eiffel tower. She took his hand, “Let’s recap. I go in, we have our Hawkmoth meeting, then I ask if I can speak to Batman and Nightwing alone. Then I tell them I found you, then I give them – are you sure it’s necessary for me to give them your blood, hair and a cheek swab? Isn’t that overkill?” (Batman is serious about his no kill rule, but he’s also serious about his there’s no such thing as overkill rule)

He shook his head and she sighed, “Okay. Then I give him means to contact me and I come back. Now remember they might take a while to process and they won’t necessarily call immediately-,”

“What if they never call?” he asked, gripping her hand tightly.

She ran her finger softly through his hair, “Then you have us to help you get through it,”

He nodded, she kissed his cheek and stepped through the portal with Queen Bee, Chat Noir and Viperion. He and Ryuuko stayed behind as backup, he wielded the Fox miraculous these days, but kept the name Blackback, always wearing a black leather jacket no matter the transformation.

He and Ryuko discussed fighting styles, she was kindly trying to distract him, and if it had been anything else he needed distracting from, it would’ve worked.

So passed the slowest forty-five minutes of his life. Chat Noir and Queen Bee exit a portal and so the wait for Marinette and Luka began.

She and Bruce were talking now. Bruce would know he was alive. This was make or break for him. Luka was nearby to act as back up worst-case scenario.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, followed by someone taking and rubbing circles on his back. He looked down to see Ryuuko on his one side and saw Chat Noir on his other.

“We’ve got you,” Chloe said standing in front of him, hand on his unoccupied shoulder.

He swallowed and nodded. She squeezed his upper arm and met his gaze, “Breathe, you’re safe, honey,”

So, 30 more minutes pass. They sit down and somewhere along the line Chat goes and grabs a dozen croissants from the bakery.

In another situation he might’ve laughed. He’d baked this morning’s batch and now he got to eat some of it for free, of course, technically he could get others for free too but-

The portal opened behind them and Ladybug and Viperion stepped out. He noted that she didn’t have the bag of his DNA with her anymore.

She smiled softly at him, “Now we wait,”

And wait they did.

They waited two weeks.

And then the burner phone that's number they'd given Bruce rang.

Jason froze, Marinette jumped up and ran to get it.

He couldn't move as she walked over and put the phone on speaker, she grabbed his hand and he held onto her for dear life.

"We can both hear you now, Nightwing," she said.

There was a beat of silence on the other side of the line, "Can he- If you're- can I speak to him? In- um- private?"

Marinette looked at him, and he nodded. She took the phone off speaker and handed it to him.

He held it up to his ear and squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the circles Marinette were drawing on his hand with her thumb.

"He- hey Dick," he said. He heard his brother's breathing hitch, followed by a few seconds of silence.

"When did Batman find you?"

"25th May 2017,"

"Who's your favourite author?"

"Mary Shelley tied with Jane Austin,” he replied.

Dick stayed silent for too long and before he could stop himself the words fell from his mouth, desperation clinging to each syllable,” My favourite- my favourite playwright is Shakespeare, and my favourite school subject is English. If I could pick any day job it would be being a writer. My favourite colour is blue. Alfred has a secret fear of dolphins. You have had a ridiculously huge crush on Barbara for years and she had no idea, and I found a picture you drew under your old room's bedside table of you two getting married. I folded the picture up and hid it in a small box of memories I kept in the farthest corner of my closet under clothes I never wore. I have a round scar on the lower left side of my back where Willis Todd burned me with a cigarette when I was 5 that you don’t know I know you know about. My first Christmas at the manor you found me in the rose garden cutting a few off to take to my mother's grave and I was terrified that you would yell at me but instead you drove me to the graveyard and that was the day I decided to give you a real chance. I despise carrots but I eat them when Alfred makes them because I don't want to be a burden. And I-," he choked on a sob- when had he started crying?

He took a shuddering breath, and swallowed some of his tears, trying to make sure the words got out right, "I've missed you guys for every single second that I've been gone,"

His stomach tied itself up in a million knots as the silence stretched on. He could hear Dick moving the phone.

"Can I speak to Ladybug again please?" A female voice he didn't recognize said.

He handed the phone to Marinette and pressed his hand over his mouth to try to contain the sobs. He felt like a knife was twisting his stomach. He couldn't even hear what Marinette was saying. (I’m going through something irl and as a result u guys get to read angst by the bucketloads and I regret nothing)

Dick didn't want to talk to him. He should've just answered the question, he shouldn't have given all the extra information. Now they were never going to believe that it's really him and he would never see them again. Maybe they knew it was him and they just didn't want him-

"Jason, breathe with me," he heard Marinette's voice. His eyes latched onto hers like a lifeline, he became aware of her hands holding his.

She took his face in her hands and rested her forehead against his, in a motion so familiar that it came as easy as breathing. Well as easy as it usually was to breathe, right now excluded.

After he calmed down, she explained to him what they discussed. They would go to Gotham and meet and discuss things from there.

They wanted to meet him, but they still didn’t completely believe that it was him. He knew this for a fact because they had organized for M’gann to be there to confirm what he was saying. (Yassss M'gann my darling girl, I adore out lil Martian)

Marinette had suggested that they meet in the Batcave in an hour. Everyone had agreed. He assumed she had a plan as to why she wanted to wait. And he trusted her, so he waited for her to explain.

“I want to take the team, as backup. If you’re not comfortable with it, I want to at least take Luka. I would suggest just letting one of us wield is miraculous, but his Second Chance Timer limit is an hour so it would be most beneficial,” she said, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t holding his.

He nodded, sitting up straighter, but not releasing his grip on her hand, “We can bring the team, it’s smart to have backup. Besides if things go haywire, we have Luka to stop us.”

“Then let’s go get our team, love,”

(oh, I should probably mention that only he and LB knows everyone’s Identities. Or well rather no one knows like officially. Like everyone lowkey knows everyone's and a few of them have officially revealed themselves to each other, but not everyone is officially revealed to everyone and Mari and Jason are the only ones who aren’t officially revealed to anyone else, it’s kinda like the vibes of knowing your best friend is queer but not saying anything because they haven’t officially come out yet but like you know because they ain’t nearly as subtle as they think. Like that aesthetic.)

Anyway, 50 minutes later, they’re all gathered on the Eiffel Tower. Jason saw Marinette give Luka a nod to reset his timer. Suddenly he was enveloped in a light with a scratch that wasn’t there a few seconds before on his cheek, his expression quite annoyed.

Marinette immediately furrowed her brows, “How many times?”

Viperion shook his head, “Don’t worry, only one so far, but they try to restrain us. We’re gonna have to try plan b this time,” Everyone nodded, they waited two minutes before the agreed upon time and Mari opened a portal, but instead of appearing out in the opened, they hid in the shadowy parts of the cave.

Jason used his illusion to hide them from any observant eyes and they spread out a bit. He and Mari stayed together, Cloe flew to get a higher perspective and hide Viperion on one of the cave’s many ledges while Chat just moved a few feet away to have a slightly different hiding spot. Kagami dropped into her wind form and was flying above them to eavesdrop, she’d go to Luka if she heard anything of importance so he could go restart again.

They’d be one step ahead of the Bats no matter what they pulled, after all, they had all the time in the world.

They watched them all get into position as time neared. Jason didn’t know all the kids but recognized them from the news.

Dick, Bruce and M’gann stood near the bat computer with Barbara – who was in a wheelchair but that was a realization to deal with later- and Alfred.

The minute they were supposed to appear Jason cast another illusion to make it appear as though they had arrived. As expected, weapons and restraints immediately swarmed on them, each kid going for a different miraculous member. Too bad the images turned into orange dust as soon as they touched them.

The tiny one in the Robin uniform was red in the face and immediately started throwing a tantrum, “Father! They’ve tricked us-,”

Before he could get another word out, Chloe mass-venomed the horde of kids that we’re sent to attack them. He counted Black bat, Red Robin, Batgirl, Signal and Robin. They were all frozen in the middle of the room and before the others near the computer could move, Kagami trapped them in a (rather large) ring of fire. They had enough space to move around comfortably but if they tried approaching the edge the flames would grow larger.

Batman growled and his eyes searched through the cave, but he wouldn’t see them, no matter how hard he searched.

Jason stared at them. Dick was also searching the cave, but he seemed to look more hopeful than angry. Alfred seemed his usual calm self and Barbara was glancing around the cave more subtly. He didn’t bother looking at the rest of the batkids because M’gann was staring right at him, staying right where she was despite her ability to fly.

“Hi, Jason,” she softly spoke into his mind, he felt emotion overwhelm him, she’d known him before everything, and she knew it was him and it was a lot.

He knew she wasn’t probing around his brain for information like he was sure Bruce had asked her to, she didn’t have to, she knew it was him.

“Can you please tell me why we’re surrounded by fire?” she asked.

“We have a time traveller,” he replied.

“Ah, not a fan of Bruce’s restrain and question method, then? Can’t say I blame you, though I do think you’ve proven your point,”

“You really think it’s a good idea to release all of them?” he asked sceptically.

“… Good point. Maybe leave the brood in the middle in whatever frozen state they’re in and just let us in the fire out. They really just think it’s too good to be true… Jason, I won’t let them hurt you,”

“Okay,” he agreed softly. He turned to Marinette and gave her a slight nod. She returned with one of her own.

They walked over to Kagami’s ring of fire and he held their illusion until they were right in front of it. He held on to it for a bit to make sure everyone else would be able to stay in position. Chloe would keep the cavalry venomized and Chat and Viperion would stick to the shadows, unless necessary.

Jason dropped the illusion and watched four heads snap to him. M'gann simply gave him a soft smile and a nod of encouragement.

Kagami moved herself to stand next to Marinette and turned back into her human form, glaring at them with a silent warning.

Their attention was elsewhere, though. For a long time they just stood there and stared at one another in silence. They studied every part of one another they could see.

His eyes caught on Barbara’s wheelchair and he felt ready to destroy whatever put her there. She met his eyes and he held her gaze. She must’ve seen something there because she gave a small smile as she allowed a few tears to escape her eyes.

“Miss Martian?” Batman broke the silence like a cheap dinner plate, shattering it in a matter of seconds.

“It’s him,” M’gann answered without a hint of hesitation.

It was Alfred that moved first. He took a few hesitant steps towards him and before Jason knew it the man was in front of him. Alfred reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, desperately studying him for a moment before pulling him into a hug only Alfred could give.

It took Jason a moment to respond but when he did he returned it wholeheartedly.

After a few minutes they pulled apart and it took him a moment to realize that they’d both started crying. When he looked up Dick was only a few feet away. The moment Alfred stepped away Dick pulled him close.

“I thought you were dead, kid. I thought I’d never see you again, I thought I lost even more family. You were too young, too innocent. Fuck Jason,” Dick whispered, tightening his grip, “I’m so glad you’re alive,”

Jason held on to his brother and that night they cried about terrible endings and broken beginnings. They cried about lost time and found family.

It wasn’t the end yet, Hawkmoth was still terrorizing Paris and he had no idea what Bruce thought yet. There were all his other kids, his brothers and sisters. There were his teammates and the incredible story of how he’d been turned into a bee of all things.

They had a lot of catching up to do.

But just for a moment, a strand of a singular moment, he had his brother in his arms again and he was back home. His first real home.

Things weren’t perfect, as things rarely are but it didn’t matter. Because part of the beauty of life is how it builds and breaks us in a cycle of love and loss.

And that night they laughed with a lightness and joy none of them had fully been able to hold onto in years.

I hope you guys enjoyed!

This is lowkey totally gonna be the au I go to when I don’t know what to write lol, maybe write a bit of what happens afterwards or a part of everything during the year he lived with Mari them or just y’know shenanigans

#maribat #jason todd #marinette dupain cheng #jasonette #bee movie au #aka the deep dark hole within the deep dark hole #I've been working on this for a month #probably more #my brain held me captive with this au it held me at gunpoint and stalked me and wouldn't leave me alone until i wrote it #me: casually attempting to write anything else #my brain: *slaps me with ideas for this* NO #and the worst part is there's more that's not written just bull my brain came up with #and i can't believe I put angsty life philosophy writing in a CRACK AU #THIS IS THE VERY DEFINITION OF A CRACK AU #WHY #I AM SO INVESTED AND I'M MAD ABOUT IT #i enjoyed writing this and that fact alone infuriates me #blame moonie for this #and u know what blame bugabunny too #(fuck i hope i got their name right)#if it hadn't been for the two of them discussing this again i would've forgotten all about it and i woulda been allowed to write #my kaldur x marinette fic in peace. or my lila time loop fic. OR LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE #anyway i tried to make his outfit red hood esque but like only the parts i liked about it #aka the leather jacket and the combat boots #I don't know how i feel about the fact that i wrote this but what's done is done #*sigh*#jason x marinette #why me #nightwing fluff #but also angst

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smallblueandloud · 3 years

Text

stay all day in the sun

“Luca?”

The court’s newest scribe visibly jumps, hastily wiping off his cheeks and turning to face her. “Your highness! I’m so sorry, I was only- I’ll get back to work right away.”

“It’s okay.” She smiles, comfortingly as she can, and gets a small smile in response.

The kingdom started looking outside its own borders for scholars a few years ago. It was her husband’s idea -- something about finding talent outside one’s own borders, and broadening his own mind, and things like that. His father the king had agreed, and so now Luca Paguro stands before her, a skinny eighteen year old with a passion for astronomy.

She has an idea of what it feels like, to be an outsider. She tries to look out for these exchange students when she can.

“You seem upset,” she says, walking forward to sit on the other side of the bench. It’s a beautiful view from the covered corridor between the two halves of the palace, even more so when the day is ending and the sun sets the ocean before them ablaze. She likes to sit here herself, thinking about her family. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Oh- oh, no, your highness,” says Luca, clearing his throat. “Just... homesick, I guess.”

“I know how you feel,” she says.

“You do? Of course you do!” he says, his eyes widening. “I mean- I didn’t remember you were from outside the kingdom too. I-”

He pauses, takes a deep breath, and sits down next to her. “Have you ever been to Italy?”

“No, I can’t say I have,” she says, softly. “You miss it?”

“Yes,” he says. “No. Sort of. It’s- it’s hard to explain. I’m thinking about my family.”

She knows that look. She has a hunch about that look. “Families are hard,” she says. Understatement of the year. “My father and I didn’t really get along. He thought- he worried about me. He wanted to keep me safe, but I wanted to explore.”

“My parents were the same way!” says Luca. “They were so overprotective, they were willing to send me to- send me far away. I even ran away for a little while.”

“So did I.” She takes a deep breath, relishes the breath in her lungs. “I did some dumb things to get away, too. But in the end, it made him understand.”

“Yeah.”

“I assume yours did too, if you’re here? We’re pretty far from your home.”

“Yeah,” he repeats. “I mean, I guess. I thought they understood. They let me go to a school that was far away. They were excited when I was offered the chance to come here.”

She recognizes the expression on his face. “But?”

“But I don’t think they do!” he explodes. “I’m just- I’m not like them! I’m not going to go home and settle down after this! I want- I want more than they think. And they just- they don’t understand. When I try to tell them, it makes them sad.”

“My father cried when I got married,” she confides. “He said it was because he was happy, but I knew better. I was breaking his heart, leaving. I don’t think he had even imagined it before.”

“Yeah,” says Luca, heavily. “Yeah, that sounds familiar.”

They both stare out over the sea.

“I just- I’m tired of explaining it to them, you know? Sick of disappointing them, of being something other than what they want. Sometimes I want... sometimes I wish I never had to speak to them again.”

She sighs. “I know what you mean.”

“You do?” he asks, turning to her, excited. Then he seems to remember who he’s talking to. “I mean- I’m sorry I’m dumping all of this on you, princess. You have more important things to do than-”

“It’s okay,” she says, putting her hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Luca, I promise. I don’t mind. It’s an awful feeling to have, and I wish neither of us did, but I’m happy to be here for you.”

“...really?” he asks.

He looks so very young. Her heart aches for him, the way it would ache for her younger self, if she ever saw her again.

“Really.” She grins, trying to get him to smile. “We fish-out-of-water have to stay together.”

He laughs. Then keeps laughing, bent almost double with mirth, with his hands near his eyes like he’s trying to collect his tears. Eventually, he composes himself. “No kidding. You have no idea.”

As she watches, a rogue tear falls onto his hand, turning the skin... blue?

She remembers old stories her sisters used to tell her. Sea monsters in the Mediterranean, who turned human as long as they weren’t touching water. She used to wish so much to be one.

“You know, I don’t think I do,” she says, studying him. “You’d better get back to your group.”

“Oh!” he says, jumping up “I’m going to be late!”

He makes a beeline for the door. She turns to watch him. At the last moment, he looks back at her.

“Thank you, Princess Ariel,” he says, bowing.

“Anytime,” says Ariel, smiling. “Really, Luca, anytime you need.”

He waves as he walks through the doorway. Thoughtful, she turns back to the ocean.

#the tags on ao3 spoil the surprise so please read it here if you see it here first!#luca #disney #pixar #fic rec #sb and l writes #i couldn't stop thinking about this until i got it onto paper

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faejilly · 5 years

Text

our souls inhabit

so this was originally supposed to be a small Snow White ficlet, (from the POV of the Prince), and it sort of... grew? It is now more of a general Malec Fairy Tale AU, with a sprinkling of my favorite dream tropes. Many thanks to @rutherinahobbit for making sure it’s vaguely coherent for the rest of you <3 The title’s from e.e. cummings’ if being mortised with a dream... as were the last five attempts at a title, because the whole poem’s kind of perfect, but I suppose now that I’m publishing we’re all stuck with this one.

His mother tries to kill him when she realizes what he is.

He runs.

Deep into the woods, where no one ever goes. Deeper still, lost and alone.

Until he finds a house, and in the house is a man, a man with green skin and horns, a man who doesn't flinch at the sight of Magnus' eyes. The man's name is Ragnor and he invites Magnus in, feeds him and tucks him into a bed in the attic, and for the first time in a long time Magnus sleeps without nightmares.

He dreams though. Meets a boy while he's sleeping, an absurdly pretty boy with pale skin and messy black hair, a boy who seems about the same age as him, whose eyes are like the shadows in the woods, brown and green and glinting with warmth like sunlight. He's sitting stiffly on a stump that looks exactly like the one Magnus was on when Ragnor found him.

Are you lost? Magnus asks, and the boy frowns.

I think that might be better than what I am.

Magnus can understand that. He's apparently half-monster, horrifying enough even his mother can't bear the sight of him.

I'm sorry, the boy offers, his eyes damp as if he's trying not to cry. My mother had to run away without me, to save my sister and the baby on the way, but at least I know she didn't want to leave me behind.

The boy's mouth doesn't move, and Magnus realizes neither of them are talking out loud, but they seem to know what they each mean despite that.

I'm sorry, too. Magnus sits on the stump next to the boy, and the boy leans in, just a little, 'til their shoulders press together. They neither of them 'say' anything else, just sit there as the sun shifts and the winds blow through the dream-forest around them.

Magnus wakes, and feels better than he has since he saw his eyes flicker into sight in the bucket of water he'd pulled up from the well the morning his world fell apart.

He grows there, in the house hiding in the woods, taught by Ragnor about what he is, and what he can do. He tries to stay alert, to watch out for that inevitable moment when the man grows tired of him, grows impatient, when the man finally says he's had enough.

It never happens. Ragnor makes him breakfast every morning, helps him brush the mud out of his clothes when he gets caught out in the rain, lingers with him in the garden after lunch, smiles at him over the edges of his books, and always answers every single question Magnus can come up with in the same steady tone of voice.

Ragnor seems to like him, and the night Magnus hugs him before he goes to bed, Ragnor just hugs him back, and pats him on the shoulder when he lets go.

"Sweet dreams," Ragnor says, and Magnus doesn't even try to hide the smile as he wraps himself up in his blankets that night.

Sometimes his dreams are still dark, memories and worries spiralling around each other. Sometimes they're sweet, newly discovered flowers or treats, impossible spells and improbable views, warm and comforting. Sometimes they're of the boy from the very first night, the prettiest boy Magnus has ever seen, much prettier than Magnus feels he could have imagined on his own. Not all the time, not any sort of consistent or expected schedule, but sometimes Magnus goes to sleep, and there he is.

Those are the best nights.

They don't talk much, not even the silent sort of words that form in dreams, but they find comfort in each other as they explore the dream-forest, finding a rabbit warren or a new fairy ring, a cold-sweet spring or a wide-open clearing, a mirror of the world Magnus is getting to know when he's awake. They always end the night at that same familiar stump where they first met, sharing shy smiles or small waves before the dream fades away.

It's nice to have a friend, even one that probably doesn't really exist.

He learns to hide his eyes, settles into the glamour Ragnor taught him, and his dream friend frowns, and asks why he changed them.

I like your eyes, they're pretty.

Magnus tries not to blush, manages a shrug. Most people think they're scary.

People are stupid.

Magnus laughs. Except for you?

The boy blushes, and shakes his head. Except for you.

They boy's barely a boy anymore, taller and ganglier, long arms and legs, hands hanging from his wrists like he's not sure what to do with them. Sometimes he looks at Magnus through half-closed eyes, his lashes thick and dark, and Magnus forgets how to breathe.

Magnus thinks he's the prettiest boy he's ever seen.

Then again, he hasn't spent much time around anyone besides Ragnor and his dream-friend in something like ten years. Ragnor gets visitors sometimes, old Warlocks or Fae stopping by for tea, but they don't usually have much to say to Magnus. They go to some of the towns near-by occasionally, shopping for supplies or seeing a show, but it's still usually just them, lingering in the cool green shadows of the woods.

Magnus wonders what he's missing, somewhere out there.

Tries not to wonder if maybe he could find the pretty boy, somewhere in the real world.

He talks to Ragnor about leaving, a little, about what he should do with his life, with his time.

He's got too much of it just to stay here, lingering and waiting for something to happen.

Magnus mentions that he's thinking of going on a trip to his dream-friend, finally, and the boy's eyes grow wide, and he shuffles his feet, and his mouth tightens just a little.

Magnus waits.

My name's Alexander.

Magnus blinks. That wasn't any of what he thought his friend was worried about. I'm Magnus, he answers, and the boy, Alexander, smiles at him, wide and delighted.

Maybe you'll find me out there somewhere, Magnus.

Magnus swallows, and shrugs, and lets himself hope. Maybe.

He doesn't.

He meets Werewolves and Vampires and Fae. He learns of the world beyond the woods, human kingdoms and cities, people and monsters and heroes. He goes looking for more people like him, like Alexander, like Ragnor, children lost and alone who don't have anyone else waiting for them, who don't yet know how to hide what they are, how to find people with whom they don't have to hide.

Sometimes he helps them settle where they are, with a friend or a partner, makes sure they know how to call him if ever they need his help.

Sometimes he brings them back to Ragnor, to warm tea and cool green shadows, lets them learn, just as he did, how to set their worries down, how to breathe. The house shifts, and every time he's there his room is the same, but there's another guest-room in the attic now, sometimes two, a place for someone else to rest and recover and learn.

Every time he's there he dreams, at least once, of his boy who isn't remotely just a boy anymore. Alexander's a young man now, tall and broad-shouldered, taller than Magnus, with a strong jaw and heavy eyebrows, but still there's that same soft light in his eyes every time he welcomes Magnus back home.

Magnus leaves again, and again.

Magnus meets Camille, who is beautiful and sharp and brilliant and forever. He loves her, and she loves him, and they dance and fight and fuck, they fall together and break apart over and over again.

He returns to the house in the woods regularly, even when he's not carting someone who needs sanctuary in tow. He spends a year or five discussing books and plants and Ragnor's terrible taste in tea. He dreams of Alexander, with his sweet smile and the shadows in his beautiful eyes. He cannot help but be glad that, for as long as the two of them wander their woods, the tension he glimpses in Alexander's posture eases, and his eyes look a little lighter by the end of their visits than they do at the beginning. They smile at each other, here, no matter how tired they might be when they're awake.

Magnus talks about collecting ingredients for potions, about the house's garden and the way it's grown over the years. Alexander talks about archery, and the sound of rain against library windows, and training his new horse.

Magnus talks about traveling, about new sights with every dawn, new people over every drink at night. Alexander's smile seems sad, but he asks more questions, always more, and Magnus wonders where he's trapped, wonders at how carefully he never mentions the names of the people he knows, as if he's afraid, even here, that someone might overhear.

Magnus tries not to think too much about how many years have passed, how many times he's looked for Alexander out there in the world, how he's never found the slightest hint of him.

He meets Imasu, who is sweet but fleeting. George who dies too young. He meets more souls who might love him, but leave him for something more steady, more human. He goes back to the woods to nurse his heavy heart when it gets too much to bear, and Ragnor makes him tea, and his Alexander meets Magnus in the shadows of his dreams and smiles.

Magnus smiles back.

But the dreams aren't every night, and sometimes Magnus wonders what they mean to Alexander, how they fit into the life he lives in his own waking world.

I miss you, Magnus says, and Alexander only shrugs, half-agreement and half something else that Magnus doesn't understand. It's not regret, or hope, but it's not not either of those things either.

They wander their woods, which look much the same as they ever do, eternal and barely changing, just like them.

You always come back, Alexander says instead of good-bye, when the dream starts to fade around them.

I'll always be waiting, Magnus thinks he hears as he blinks awake, but he's not sure if it's real, or only wishful thinking.

Magnus' heart heals, and news from the world trickles even into these woods, and eventually Magnus leaves again. But he always comes back, to Ragnor's warm silences and Alexander's warmer eyes.

Sometimes Magnus asks Alexander if he'd like Magnus to stay, here in the woods where their dreams intersect, but Alexander always says no, shakes his head with a smile. You're never gone that long, and I like to hear about the world you see.

So different than the one he lives in, clearly.

How long since the last time you saw me? Magnus asks. Because he wandered almost twenty years this time, and he may be immortal but that's not nothing, even for him.

Maybe a week? Alexander answers. Why? How long was it for you?

Magnus shakes his head a little. A thousand times as long, perhaps.

Alexander goes still, so still it seems that even the trees could move faster than him, if they so decided, and he sighs out one long heavy breath. Oh. That explains a lot.

It does?

But Alexander doesn't explain. He just smiles again, something sad and sweet both at once, and leans in close enough to brush a kiss against Magnus' cheek.

Magnus blinks in surprise, but before he can even lift his hand to his cheek to feel the phantom warmth from Alexander's lips against his skin, he wakes up.

He gets a message from Catarina only a few days later, asking for his help with a squabble between some Vampires and Werewolves that could too easily escalate into a full-blown conflict, and he leaves the woods without getting to see Alexander again. Not that he's ever been able to control the dreams, or ever known when they're to be separated, but it aches more than usual this time, not getting to say good-bye.

He meets Camille again. She's still beautiful and brilliant but something in her eyes has gone brittle. He tries to be soft enough to soothe, but she just gets sharper, and when they drift apart again this time it's almost with relief.

Back and forth for years, for decades, the house, the world, Ragnor and Catarina and then Dot and Elias, Tessa and Zoe and on and on... Alexander in his dreams, now and then, though it's less often than it used to be, even when he lingers in the woods for years.

One night he finds Alexander at a make-shift archery range, pulling his bow back so far his arms tremble, blood on his hands from where he's let the string snap, let the fletching catch as his arrows fly free.

Alexander. Magnus lingers, a few steps back, magic sparking between his fingers, desperate to reach out and offer comfort.

Alexander chokes, the sound rough and sudden enough to make Magnus' throat ache in sympathy, to make his eye burn with the echoes of grief.

Magnus steps closer.

Alexander, he thinks.

Alexander drops his bow, turns, and Magnus wraps him in his arms.

Alexander's trembling, his breath hot and shivering against Magnus' neck, his fingers digging into Magnus' shoulder as he grips him tight.

My father's dead.

Oh, darling. Magnus hugs him tighter. Alexander has occasionally talked about his mother before, his sister, the baby he never got to meet. He wonders about them, hopes they're all right, somewhere out there. Alexander barely mentions his father, his jaw always tight and his eyes too bright, as if he doesn't know what to feel, what to say, and it's clear his father's death hasn't made that conflict any easier.

Magnus holds him, lets his magic free to heal the physical damage, at least, and Alexander doesn't cry.

Magnus feels hungover when he wakes up, but there's nothing he can do for either of them.

When he dreams again, Alexander acts like none of it ever happened, but there's a shadow in his eyes that no longer fades, even when he smiles his usual soft greeting at Magnus. He's hiding, Magnus knows, but he doesn't know how to help lift Alexander's burden. (Alexander clearly knows that Magnus knows, offering an embarrassed smile and a small shrug. Alexander doesn't know what to do, either.) Magnus does his best to provide a sanctuary, at least, and hopes it's enough, even when they're apart.

Magnus finds his father, entirely by accident. And then he flees him, this terrible Prince of Hell, this darkness that twists and turns and laughs, even as blood spills, even as magic burns innocent lives to ash.

His father follows.

Magnus banishes him. He's not sure if it worked, or if Asmodeus is humoring him, biding his time until he can try again. He considers isolating himself, exiling himself somewhere far away from anyone he needs to protect from the shadows of his father's gaze. But he can't quite make himself do it.

He can't bear to be so alone.

Magnus runs back to hide in his woods, to shelter in Ragnor's care and Alexander's comfort until he no longer wakes up screaming at the memories of hell in eyes that looked just like his own.

Alexander asks him about his magic, asks how old he is, asks how often he comes back to the woods.

Magnus tells him, and thinks they both feel better for it.

Alexander asks him about curses, and hexes, asks about the Fae and Vampires and Demons.

Finally figured me out, did you?

Magnus tries to make a joke of it, but Alexander won't let him flinch.

No, of course not.

Alexander pulls him close, his gaze steady and sincere in a way Magnus has never seen anyone else manage.

I've met evil, and you're the furthest thing from it.

Magnus swallows. He remembers when they met, how Alexander's family had to run away from something, how he couldn't go too. He remembers the grief and guilt in Alexander's eyes ever since his father's death. He thinks of the weight Alexander always seems to carry, even here, in the realm they share that doesn't quite exist.

You're in danger, aren't you? Magnus asks.

Alexander's eyes are sad as he shrugs. Isn't everyone?

Not like that, Magnus wants to lean in even closer, wants to let his fingertips touch Alexander's lips, wants to rest his palm against his cheek. No one should be in danger like that.

But shoulds don't change the world they live in, either of them, so Magnus tells him about blood-magic and hexes, curses and counter-curses, how to spot a Vampire, contain a Werewolf, how to tell when a Fae is dodging the truth even harder than usual, how to hide from a demon.

When he wakes he thinks about Alexander's questions, about curses and wards and the intent behind most magic spells, and he goes digging through Ragnor's library, adds to his list of things to look for the next time he goes out into the world.

Most wards are specific, this counter to that magic, and Alexander isn't a Warlock, he can't tell Magnus enough about whatever it is that he's afraid of for Magnus to know what sort of spell might be cast, which sort of shield might work.

He needs something else, something different. Something that can react to that intent rather than the spell itself?

Something that can dodge it, or move it to the side, or... reflect it?

Seelies are fond of mirror magic. Maybe he'll visit them and see what he can learn.

He wanders, and studies, and life goes on, as it always does.

He has a family now, one he chose rather than the one he'd been born of, and the world keeps growing, and changing, and shifting. Except for the house and Ragnor, who stay the same, cool and green and quiet. Except for Alexander, who welcomes Magnus back to his dreams every time he returns.

It takes a few decades, but he manages to figure out a spell, a protective ward linked to a necklace, a flat piece of silver, slightly curved, polished 'til it gleams like a mirror. He looks at it when he's done, and sighs. It's not as if he can take it into his dreams with him.

He finds the old stump, petrified almost as hard as stone now, the one where he'd met Ragnor, the mirror of the one where he met Alexander. He puts the necklace there, in the hollow between the roots, and hopes intent matters enough that it will help, wherever Alexander really is now.

(It doesn't seem to. He takes Alexander back to the stump in their next shared dream, and there's nothing there. He sighs, but then Alexander smiles at him, and he cannot help but smile back as they wander their way to a different clearing, close enough their hands almost touch with each step as they talk.)

He leaves again, feeling more aimless than usual without his research project, and loses track of time for a while. But only for a little while. He'll always come back home again, after all.

Until he tries to go back home, and Ragnor meets him at the edge of the woods, and says No.

Something about a prophecy, and Camille, and some poor young mortal and it's important that Magnus not interfere, and Magnus leaves and gets very drunk and refuses to cry into his beer.

For about a decade.

Maybe two?

He misses Ragnor, and his home, and most of all he misses his dreams, and Alexander, and now that it's too late it's painfully apparent that somewhere along the way he fell in love with a person who probably doesn't exist, and he doesn't know what to do about any of it.

Even in the state he's in, he hears about Camille, about how she made herself Queen of a human kingdom, about a Mirror she stole from the Seelie Queen, about vassals and servants, Vampires, Ghouls, Subjugates, and poor besieged Humans, all under her power.

About the rumors of a lost heir, still alive somewhere in the woods, and Magnus knows that's the one that Ragnor's protecting, and he still doesn't understand why he's here and not there, why Ragnor wouldn't let him help.

Until he feels a tug on his magic, and goes outside the Inn he's currently wallowing in to see Camille herself, looking half-dead rather than undead, her arm hanging like it's broken, her hair streaked with grey, her lips dark with old blood, her clothes torn and ragged and dirt-stained. She's trembling, her skin paper-thin and sallow, her knuckles too big for her fingers as they twist and grip in front of her. The taste of blood-magic and curses linger in the air around her, twisted into something sharp and bright and painful, and the distinctive shape of a scrying mirror is strapped to her back.

Help me, she begs, eyes dark and vicious, and he nods, and opens a portal, and sends her to the Seelie Queen.

He'll remember that last scream of rage and terror in his dreams for the rest of his life, as the Seelies claim her with their vines, powerful enough to bind even Camille at her strongest, never mind what she's become now. But she had murdered innocents, and there had been fear in her eyes but not regret, and he knows sometimes you can't escape the consequences of your actions.

He goes back inside and doesn't even pretend to sleep.

He considers going back to the woods, what used to be his woods, but there's a shiver in his chest where his heart used to be, and he knows if Ragnor sends him away again he won't survive, so he doesn't.

If no one tells him no again, he can still hold onto the hope that he'll see Alexander again some day. He has time, after all.

He just hopes Alexander does too.

He waits, hoping to hear what the rumors say, to see if this time he hears a whisper of what Ragnor was trying to protect, of the prophecy or the heir or the huntsman.

There's nothing.

Instead Catarina walks into his room entirely unannounced early one foggy morning, takes one look at him as he sits up in bed, clutching his blankets to his chest, and starts swearing, sharp and vicious under her breath.

Magnus blinks at her in surprise. She lifts one finger, wait, and turns around and leaves again.

Magnus considers the possibility he's started hallucinating from spending too much time by himself.

He gets himself up and shaved and dressed and goes down to the common room for breakfast.

Might as well be presentable if the hallucinations decide to talk to him next time.

Ragnor shows up while he's still lingering over his tea. His shoulders are hunched and his hair is a mess, and his glamour is thick enough Magnus can't see his horns, but his skin looks slightly green-tinged anyways.

There's an ache in Magnus' chest at the suggestion that Catarina ripped Ragnor a new one on Magnus' behalf, but he tries not to linger on it too much as he gets up and goes back to his room, listening for Ragnor's familiar steps following him up the stairs.

Of course he doesn't know what to say, even once they're back in his room with the door shut and a privacy ward raised, so he lets his hand rest on the back of his favorite armchair by the hearth, tries not to make the desperate grip he needs to keep himself steady too obvious, and waits.

Ragnor's mouth twists, and his hands spread wide, and Magnus realizes he's never once in all his centuries see the man look so hopeless. "Why didn't you, why did you disappear for so long?"

There's a spark of something that might be anger, somewhere beneath all the heart-break and loss and fear. "You told me to leave," Magnus makes himself say.

"Not like—" Ragnor starts, and he lifts his gaze from the toes of his boots and meets Magnus' eyes and his voice breaks off in his throat. "Oh."

Magnus waits again, but it's different now, a trembling sort of anticipation as he watches the expression on Ragnor's face shift, frustration to understanding to guilt.

"I didn't mean it like that." He swallows so hard that Magnus can see the shift down his throat, so hard his glamour flickers, green flashing across his skin, the shadow his horns cast visible against the wall. "I'm sorry."

Magnus closes his eyes, and feels himself sway, relief so heavy he can't hold himself upright. He barely hears the heavy tread of Ragnor's step forward before he feels Ragnor's arms around him, gripping him tight. "I'm sorry, please come home."

Magnus clings, and ignores the burning in his eyes, and nods.

When he finally lets go of Ragnor's shoulders, Ragnor won't meet his eyes, shifts sideways just a little, guilt heavy in the clenching of his jaw, in the thin tone of his voice when he starts talking. "I have to tell you something else."

Magnus snorts out something that might be a laugh, ignoring how damp it sounds from the tears still caught in his throat. "Cat came looking because you need my help with something, don't you?"

Ragnor's whole body sags with relief, and he nods.

Magnus gestures at the chairs, and collapses with a sigh into his favorite. "Start from the beginning, mon ami."

Ragnor snorts, and sighs, and leans forward, his elbows resting heavily on his thighs.

"You remember Idris?"

Magnus tilts his head, wondering how that's the beginning, but nods. "That's the country Camille took over. Are they recovering all right?"

Ragnor lifts his head, eyes wide and startled. "How did you know she was gone?"

Magnus feels his mouth twist, even as he flicks his fingers to the side to attempt to send the bitterness away. "She thought I'd help her get away."

"You didn—"

"Of course not." Magnus swallows, makes himself meet Ragnor's eyes. "I returned her and her stolen property to the Seelie Queen."

Ragnor shudders, but it looks more like relief than horror. "Hopefully we don't need to find her then."

Magnus swallows, something like dread crawling up his spine. "Why would anyone need to find Camille?"

Ragnor huffs out a breath, and Magnus realizes he still looks hopeless, helpless, lost in a way Magnus has never seen before. "Because I don't know how to break the curse she cast."

Magnus thinks of that taste in the air around Camille, blood and desperation, the weight of the mirror on her back, the rumors of the Seelie Queen's increasingly desperate attempts to get it back. "She used a Seelie artifact to cast a blood-curse?"

Ragnor shrugs. "We think so, but it's all tangled up in an old prophecy, and Raphael can't—"

Magnus holds up a hand. "Wait, stop. We're in the middle again."

Ragnor snorts. "And whose fault is that?"

"You're the one who's supposed to be explaining yourself."

Ragnor glares over his glasses, and Magnus feels his face ease into a smile more honest than any he's attempted in years.

It's good to have his best friend back.

Ragnor's attempted frown softens, as if he feels the same way, and he leans back in his chair and clears his throat. "Camille managed to weasel her way into Idris as some sort of royal advisor, used the mirror to fool some King into thinking she was Fae instead of Vampire, and set herself up as the power in the shadows for a generation or three."

Magnus grunts. That's longer than she usually sticks—longer than she used to stick to one game. "What was she trying to accomplish?"

"There's an old prophecy attached to Idris, the original's been lost for centuries, but it was something about a King under unnatural influence, and a gift of magic the likes of which the world had never seen before, would never see again, and..."

"She thought she could be the unnatural influence and snag the gift for herself?"

Ragnor shrugs.

"And even if nothing fancy happened, she'd become the sort of person who'd enjoy playing with mortals for a few hundred years." Magnus closes his eyes, remembers the first time he saw Camille, remembers dancing the night away, the bright sound of her laugh, the touch of her fingers against his skin. He makes himself open them again before he thinks too much about that final scream before he'd closed the portal between him and the Seelie Realm. "I wonder sometimes if the woman I fell in love with ever really existed, or if it was all one of her games..."

"Immortality wears on everyone, in different ways."

"I suppose," Magnus frowns, and tries not to swear. "Is that the prophecy that convinced you to banish me?"

"I didn't—" Ragnor stopped as Magnus lifted his eyebrows. "I just meant for you to contact me from a safer distance. There's a line in it that's generally thought to be about a Prince of Hell being forsworn, and the curse coming full circle, and..."

Magnus' mouth opens, then closes again. He is the only Warlock he knows whose father tried to claim him as an heir to hell itself. "You didn't want my magic close enough to screw up an already weird prophecy."

Ragnor grunts. "I apparently should have phrased it better."

Magnus rolls his eyes. "Clearly."

"You could have asked!" Ragnor snarls back.

Magnus grunts this time. "But that's not really part of your story, either?"

Ragnor looks like he's considering some sort of hex before he sighs and shrugs and starts talking again. "Robert Lightwood, King of Idris, had an affair. When he got caught out, he managed, presumably thanks to Camille's influence for the idea and some judicious encantos for the execution, to convince the Kingdom of Idris it was his wife's fault, and she fled the country ahead of treason charges."

Magnus stills, and remembers Alexander's mother.

Ragnor keeps talking, and it takes more effort than Magnus will ever admit to follow what he's saying.

"The Queen was pregnant with their third child, took their daughter with her when she ran, but Robert had already formally recognized their eldest as his heir, and she knew if she tried to take him too they'd never be able to get away..."

Magnus can't breathe, barely notices when Ragnor's voice cracks with what sounds like genuine grief, as if he knows them personally, as if it's not just a story, as if this is the important part, not just the background to whatever happens next.

"When." Magnus' voice sounds like he's dying, more of a croak of pain than words, and he makes himself swallow, makes himself try again. "When did she run."

"Twenty years ago." Ragnor stops, but Magnus is too deep in his own head to notice, not really, certainly can't tell what Ragnor is thinking, what he's feeling, what his voice or his face might be doing. There's a lengthy pause, and Magnus tries to think, because it can't be Alexander, that first dream was hundreds of years ago, not twenty, but their time never matched, and he'd tried not to think about it too much before, tried not to wonder if his dreams were with a mortal and someday he'd see Alexander aging, or if it was all some prolonged figment of his imagination and someday the illusion would grow too shallow, he'd be forced to realize they weren't true, but their times never matched, and if a week was twenty years than why couldn't twenty years be...

"Now that I know Camille's gone, though, I can send for them, she gave me her mother's necklace before she left so I could track them, no matter where they w—"

"Name." Magnus snaps, not even sure what Ragnor had been saying anymore. "I need a name."

"Whose?" Ragnor sounds honestly bewildered now, which in other circumstances might be interesting, Magnus isn't sure he's ever managed to bewilder Ragnor before, but at the moment he just needs to know his damn name. "Robert and Maryse? Isabelle? I don't know what she named her youngest, they were gone before the birth."

"The heir." Magnus is standing, he doesn't remember standing up, but he's glaring down at Ragnor, fists clenched at his sides. "He's the one you were protecting when you sent me away, wasn't he, what's his name?"

"Alec?"

Oh hells, damnation and gods and demons and... "Short for Alexander?"

"Well, yes, but." Ragnor starts to stand, hands outreached as if to touch, clearly able to tell that something is happening even if he doesn't know what. He's moving too slowly though, and Magnus grabs the lapels of his coat, pulls 'til Ragnor's on his feet, 'til they're face to face.

"Take me to him, now."

"But I haven't even told you the—"

"Now."

Ragnor nods.

He waits a beat, then gently lifts his hands, wraps them around Magnus' wrists. "I need room if I'm to make the portal, Magnus."

Magnus lets go, steps back, exhales something that feels like his soul itself might be trying to flee. He shakes his arms out, clenches and releases his hands. "Please," he whispers.

Ragnor makes the portal, and reaches back, and Magnus grabs his hand much too hard.

He stumbles into a familiar attic, ignores Catarina's startled hello, because there's Alexander, tucked into the same bed Magnus always used when he stayed here, eyelashes resting heavy against his cheeks, chest lifting ever so slowly beneath a quilt Magnus doesn't recognize.

I suppose Ragnor finally got new blankets in the last twenty years, he thinks rather helplessly, even as he steps forward and falls to his knees beside the bed. His hand reaches out, hovering over Alec's cheek, then his chest, but he's afraid this is real, afraid it isn't, and he doesn't know what he's seeing or why, or what to do.

"Alexander." Magnus shakes his head, ignores the ache in his chest and his throat and his head. His hand is trembling, he can't quite seem to keep it steady, and it bumps against the collar of Alec's shirt, opens it enough he sees the glint of a silver chain.

His breath hitches, and he can feel the tears overflowing his eyes and falling down his cheeks. He makes his hand move, just enough to open the collar a little further, to see the familiar curve of silver glinting where it's settled in the hollow of Alexander's throat. "You're real and you found it."

He starts to reach for the necklace itself, to touch the magic, to touch Alexander, when a familiar voice interrupts him. "What the fuck, Magnus."

Magnus turns, and can't help the grin he can feel beneath his tears. "He's real, Cat!"

"Most people are?"

"He found it!" Magnus turns back, and Catarina slaps his shoulder hard enough he almost falls over onto the bed.

"Stop that!" She tugs on the back of his shirt, trying to pull him away from the bed. "We haven't figured out how he's not dead, if you must know the truth, and I don't want you screwing up whatever..."

"It's the necklace." Magnus points. "I made it for him."

"You what?" Ragnor speaks up this time. "I never told you anything about him, and I certainly had no clue that Camille knew how to make a kairothanasia."

Magnus chokes on his next breath. "She did a what?"

Cat makes an almost identical choking sound. "You gave him something that stopped a curse without knowing what curse to stop?"

"I didn't even know it was Camille he was afraid of!"

"What." Ragnor's voice drops almost an octave, and he lifts both hands, palms out, in a very clear stop gesture. "Alec is stable, even if we're not entirely sure why, so I suggest we sit and try to start this conversation over again. From something resembling a beginning."

"Because that worked so well last time?" Magnus huffs out a breath as Ragnor and Catarina both glare at him. "It's not my fault, I didn't know he was real!"

"But you made him a real necklace that does impossible magic!" Catarina's voice rises higher than Magnus thinks he's ever heard it go before, and eyes and hands are both spread wider than looks comfortable. "What did you do?"

Ragnor grunts, and claps his hands, and the bench at the foot of the bed scrapes across the floor as it moves to settle beside the chair angled between the window for light and the chimney for warmth. "Sit."

They sit.

Ragnor summons the small table from his study, and Catarina summons some tea, and they both stare at Magnus.

"Every time I'm here," Magnus gestures broadly around them, both at the house and the woods outside, "I have these dreams where I'm wandering these woods, with..." Magnus trails off, and turns his head to look at the bed. "With him."

"He's not even thirty years old."

Magnus laughs, a hollow sort of helplessness as he shrugs. "Our times never did seem to match. I'd be gone for twenty years, and he'd say his last dream was less than a week before."

"That's impossible."

"The first one was the very first night I was here." Catarina's face turns into a pained sort of grimace; they all know what first nights are like, when a young Warlock realizes what they might be, and Magnus barely stops himself from shrugging again. "You remember that stump you found me sitting on, Ragnor?"

"Only because you'd go back to visit it." Ragnor frowns. "Now that you mention it, it's where I met Maryse and her children when she was fleeing Idris, too, and it's where Raphael brought Alec when Camille ordered him killed after his father died, before he could be coronated properly himself."

Catarina puts her tea down with a quiet clink of porcelain. "Poor Raphael, he looked so disgusted watching me bespell that pig's heart to smell like human blood for him to take back to Camille as proof."

Magnus shudders in sympathy. That spell was messy, and would have required some of Alexander's blood put into the pig's heart to convince the rest of it to change to match. "It must have worked for awhile, Robert—" Magnus stops, swallows, remembers Alexander trembling as he clung to Magnus in a clearing in the middle of the woods. Remembers the news, much more recently, of the death of the King of Idris, of the Regent taking over, of Camille becoming Queen. "His father died a few years ago, didn't he?"

"He and his second wife, the poor woman. Carriage 'accident', or so the stories went." Ragnor clicks his tongue, echoing the porcelain as he puts his cup down next to Catarina's. "She had no idea what she was getting into, falling for a Lightwood."

Neither did I, apparently. Magnus swallows, and tries to figure out what to say next. "That stump was where I met Alexander, in that first dream. It's where I put the necklace, after I made it. I'm not sure why I did it, couldn't have told you while it was happening, I knew I couldn't take it into a dream, but I just... I wanted to help."

"What, exactly, was this help then?" Catarina leans forward.

"It's just a basic ward twisted into a bit of silver." Magnus had repeated and twisted it nine times to make it as powerful as the silver could bear, but that wasn't difficult, it just required patience and brute force. Rather a lot of it, perhaps, but he'd had the time and power to spare. Would have spared anything, he realizes, for Alexander. "I based the shape of the spell on a Seelie mirror though, so it would reflect any magic that carried an intent to harm, rather than trying to set up counters for specific spells."

Just, Catarina mouths at him, and shakes her head.

Ragnor whistles softly. "It wouldn't work on raw magic or accidental damage like a personal ward, but it's perfect for someone being targeted who can't work magic directly."

"Thank you." Magnus twists in his chair to look at Alexander again. "Was it though?"

"He's still alive," Catarina answers, her voice almost unbearably soft. "That's a miracle, considering."

"Are you sure about that?" Magnus can't stop himself, he stands, starts to move closer to the bed, to Alexander. "How did she even manage to make a kairothanasia?"

"Enough blood and intent, focused through that mirror?" Magnus hears Catarina stand up behind him. "Camille has more than enough of both."

"Had," Magnus corrects, and he walks the rest of the way toward the bed. He vaguely hears Ragnor telling Catarina about Camille as he kneels again, but he isn't really paying attention. If his necklace had worked, it should have reflected the curse back on Camille. But she hadn't been cursed to have never existed, hadn't had her blood erased all the way back before she'd been born, like she'd tried to do to Alexander. Magnus remembers every time they'd met, every rumour he'd heard of what she'd done when they were apart. She hadn't even been killed by it, not quite, no matter how damaged she'd been when she'd tried to ask Magnus for help.

But if her curse had worked, if the necklace had failed, Alexander would have never existed, and here he is, alive and breathing and one of the few constants of Magnus' life.

So it's something in-between. The kairothanasia's the strongest curse Magnus knows, and if Camille had powered it with enough blood, enough intent, if that mirror was as dangerous as it seemed, it would have been too much even for the necklace's protection to reflect in its entirety. But some of it...

Some of it had rebounded back on Camille, some of it was keeping Alexander asleep, but that couldn't be all of it, not a curse like that, not one that killed someone's past as well as their future.

Magnus reaches a hand out again, holds it above the necklace, and stretches, oh so gently, magic twisting from his fingers to brush against the wards he'd set. He hisses in pain as they spark back at him, and pulls his hand away, cradles it against his chest.

Well.

Fuck.

The curse is still there, tangled up in the necklace, resting so close to Alexander's heart that Magnus has to bite his lip and focus on the sting to make himself think rather than reach down and try and yank the necklace off Alexander's body. The wards are clearly strong enough to block the intent, but the spell still wants to complete itself. He narrows his eyes, thinks about the feel of those sparks, warm and lively, and wonders. It's powerful, potentially deadly, but it doesn't feel like blood-magic anymore, tastes like regular magic rather than a curse, as if the wards managed to twist it inside out, just like Magnus had wanted, but it was too big.

By the time it had finished twisting the curse, the blood magic and wards were knotted too tightly together to push it back out again?

"Time," Magnus whispers. The kairothanasia erases someone from time, and all the results from the deflection have only happened now. He has to let the spell do something to the rest of Alexander's lifetime or it'll just sit there, twisted around backwards and eating Alexander's future instead of his past.

Alexander's past.

Alexander's impossible past, full of dreams with Magnus from before he was born.

Maybe he needs to let the spell do something that has already happened, maybe he has to let it make Alec alive before he was born, even if only in dreams.

For that to work, he has to let this inside-out curse tie his and Alexander's lives together.

He's... not at all sure what that will do. Two souls, one life, half immortal, half mortal?

"Oh." Ragnor's voice is right there, and Magnus lifts his head to see Ragnor and Catarina standing just beyond his reach, holding hands and eyes bright with magic; they'd clearly been following along with his diagnostic. "If the kairothanasia makes it so someone was never alive, the counter means they're extra alive, doesn't it?"

"I think that to dispel it properly the spell will have to be set on both of them. Your life will be his, and his death will be yours." Catarina's voice is soft as she smiles at Magnus, her eyes sad as every year of her life lingers in them. "Your wards are powerful, but not enough to dispel that curse, not entirely."

"A gift of magic that has never been seen before, nor will again." Ragnor whispers. "Your wards combined with Camille's curse, Vampire blood and Warlock magic, both shaped by Seelie mirrors. It's the prophecy, Magnus."

"If it does what we think... He'll lose his family again." Magnus wants this, wants to save Alexander, wants to see a future that's not just in their dreams, but he doesn't know if Alexander does, and he can't ask.

Immortality wears on everyone, in different ways.

They may not become completely immortal, but they won't quite be mortal anymore, either.

"I've never seen him take that necklace off," Catarina counters. "I think you're his family, too."

Magnus can't speak, can't think, doesn't move.

"He'd want to live." Ragnor's voice is rough, and his free hand reaches out to grip Magnus' shoulder. "Even with your wards, the hit from that curse would have hurt, would have told him to give up, to let go, and he's still here, still breathing. At some level he had to have fought for that."

Magnus closes his eyes, swallows. Thinks of Alexander's smile, the steady weight of his gaze. Alexander never gives up, Magnus can't either. He reaches, twists his hands in the air before him, pulling his magic from the necklace, back into himself, making the inside-out curse come with.

He screams as the spell explodes, sunlight in his veins, burning beneath his skin, and he can feel the weight of it, the twenty-eight years of Alec's life over and throughout the centuries of his own, stretched thin and fragile but undeniably there, tangled together too tightly to ever be pulled apart again.

He blinks himself back to awareness. The room's dimmer than it was, his bones ache and his magic's almost entirely depleted; he feels raw and scraped out, and it's only when he tries to shift to ease the soreness in his muscles that he realizes he's lying down, that same new quilt he'd noticed earlier draped over him.

He turns his head, and forgets every bit of pain because there's Alexander, close enough to touch at last, lying on his side, his arm tucked under his head, his eyes just barely open, a glint of light catching beneath the dark shadow of his lashes.

"Magnus." Alexander's mouth curves into the barest hint of a smile, his voice low and mumbling, barely more force behind the words than an exhale of a breath. "Hoping I'd dream of you."

Magnus sighs, feels the tremble of his breath, hope bright and shivering in his chest, and turns himself slowly onto his side to mirror Alexander.

There's a hint of a frown between Alexander's brows as he watches, but he holds it in until Magnus settles to a stop.

"You look tired."

Magnus almost laughs, but he's afraid it'll hurt. "That's because we're both awake, darling."

Alexander's eyes widen, and his breath stutters, as if he's only now managed to pay enough attention to realize where they are. "You're rea—" His voice cracks as he tries to lift himself onto his elbow, and he slides back down onto the bed with a groan, making it clear he's at least as sore as Magnus is. "You're here. Now."

"Same place, same time." Magnus finally lets himself reach out, though his fingertips rest against the silver charm that he only notices now is solid black with tarnish, thick and set enough it doesn't even smudge at his touch, rather than touching Alexander himself. "You found it."

"When I was eight." Alexander's shoulders shift, and there's worry in his eyes. "The day I first dreamt of you."

Magnus' eyes slide close, open again as he shakes his head, fabric wrinkling beneath his temple with the movement.

"I think I made it almost forty years ago now, when I'd already known you for centuries." Magnus hums, thinks about the feel of the spell as it had tied them together. He can still feel it, a tug between his ribs that he knows will never go away again, that he knows is Alexander. "Our times match now."

Alexander's frown deepens, but he clearly isn't surprised, had already figured out how far off their histories were. "How?"

"Camille." Magnus swallows, tries again. "She tried to curse you so that, rather than just dying, you'd never existed at all."

"Magnus," Alexander breathes out, eyes wide with horror. "I'm so sorry."

Magnus has to turn his head into his pillow, not sure if he's blocking a laugh or tears. Alexander is clearly more concerned about what that would have meant to Magnus than what it meant about his own life. "It's too powerful a curse to be easily dispelled or reflected..."

"Magnus," Alexander repeats, but this time his voice is steady. He's waiting for Magnus to look at him, to finish saying it. "Please."

Magnus makes himself return that steady gaze. "The spell still had to affect time, not just the present, so it..." He chokes, gestures between them.

Magnus wonders when Alexander first suspected the nature of their impossible connection, wonders what it must have been like for Alexander to hear Magnus mention Camille, the Lightwood's personal devil, back when she'd just been a person, a lover, someone who danced through life, who knew how to laugh, who wasn't always cruel.

I'm sorry, he thinks, but he knows it wasn't his fault, that now isn't the time to try and unpick the tangled weave of their timelines.

"That's how the dreams." Alexander blinks, hums softly. "Never thought I'd be glad for something Camille started."

Magnus huffs out a startled laugh, then presses his hand to his chest with a groan. It hurts as much as he'd been afraid it would. "Our lives are tangled together for the future, too."

"But you're immortal."

"I was."

Alexander makes a soft pained noise, as if he'd been wounded.

"Just like you were mortal."

Alexander's eyes close, slowly this time, and stay that way as he exhales, long and shaky. Magnus waits, for what he's not entirely sure, fear or anger or regret. "Thank the gods," Alexander whispers.

"What?" Magnus' voice cracks up, louder than he'd intended.

Alexander smiles, and his eyes are damp when he opens them, but they're alight, joy and relief and something that Magnus suspects might be love. Magnus forgets how to think. "I thought you meant you were going to die because of me, not that I'd get to live with you."

"Oh." That's all Magnus can manage. They stare at each other, until Magnus realizes it's still getting darker, and it's difficult to see anything beyond the shape of Alexander's cheekbone, the faint glint of his eyes in what little light is left. He realizes he is sure of Alexander, of how he feels, of what he wants. Of everything Alexander never said, but showed him nonetheless, night after night of conversations and silences, shoulders pressed together as they perched on that same damnable, wonderful stump. "I love you, too."

Alexander smiles, wider and brighter than Magnus has ever seen before, and he has no idea what to do now that this is real. He reaches, and Alexander's lips are warm against the very tips of his fingers, and he feels that amazing smile soften beneath his touch.

"You're real," Magnus whispers, "and you're here, with me."

"You're real," Alexander agrees, "and you saved me."

"You first," Magnus says, and he's smiling like a loon, he's sure, as Alexander's hand wraps around his, fingers long and the skin just rough enough to catch, as he tugs Magnus' hand down out of the way and leans in even closer. Magnus closes his eyes, and Alexander's lips meet his at last, as gentle as a spring wind, soft and warm and sweet.

Magnus sighs as their mouths part, as every last bit of worry and stress seems to leave him, and no matter how much he wants to savor every moment of this, he's not sure he can stay awake for much longer.

"Sweet dreams," Alexander breathes against Magnus' mouth, and Magnus laughs again, blinks his eyes half open long enough to see Alexander, to answer with what they both know is true.

"How can they not be, with you in them?"

Alexander scoffs out a breath, amused and fond. "Our times match now, there may not be any more dreams."

"You've always been my favorite dream, Alexander."

Alexander kisses Magnus' forehead, the warm press of his lips lingering as he exhales. Magnus lets his eyes close, and his body settle.

I love you, he hears, and it doesn't matter if Alexander says it out loud, if he's imagining it, or dreaming it. He knows it's true.

#shadowhunters #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #ragnor fell #camille belcourt #my sh fic #jilly writes #snow white #fairy tales

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timeaftersometime · 4 years

Note

How do to think Pure would have been different had Sara lived? Do you think she could have given up her Pearl (since mermaids can kinda sorta live without bc of Luchia)? I would have loved to see Sara making amends and helping to rebuild her kingdom, Kaito and Gaito getting to have an actual relationship, and Seria getting to meet Sara!

Wow I gave a thought to this and it turns out this thought just branches out into so many rabbit holes that I’m not sure if I can completely answer your question, but I’ll try!

From your ask, I gather that you assume that Gaito would live as well. I’m also going to assume here that Sara would still follow Gaito even if they had lived. Aqua Regina did note in the final episode of the first season that Sara’s duty is to save Gaito’s soul. Which means that even if she lived, it is possible that she still would need a successor in Seira. Seira would be still too young to lead a rebuilding of the Indian Ocean Kingdom, so I don’t think we would see much of that in Pure anyway, even if Sara had lived.

Even so, everything would be very different. A few reasons summed up here: 1) Taro probably would not have left Japan, 2) Sara would be the one taking care of Seira rather than Luchia, 3) all the Mermaid Princesses will be present.

1) Taro probably would not have left Japan

A bit of context here: I am making a few assumptions here for the canonical story. The biggest one is that someone had to break it to Taro that Sara is gone. Through the events of the finale in Season 1, Taro was mostly unconscious after his brief reunion with Sara, right before the final battle. The evidence is that Sara bid farewell to Taro while he was still unconscious on the back of Hippo.

Had Taro been unsure if Sara was still alive or not, he might have returned to India out of desperation just for that chance to see her again where they met. (small headcanon: Taro and Sara met at Rama’s Bridge in Tamil Nadu. Where else but a bridge that Suvannamaccha the Mermaid Princess disrupted?)

But it is more likely that either Luchia, Hanon, or Rina had to gently break the news to him. After composing himself, he would then decide to further study music in Germany in order to let his inner melody flow, as a tribute to Sara.

Now, assuming that Gaito’s castle still sunk anyway, but not into the deepest depths of the ocean floor, the location of Gaito and Sara would still be off the east coast of Japan. When Taro wakes from the ordeal, he would still ask about Sara’s whereabouts. Luchia, Hanon, and Rina would still have to break bad news to him, but something quite different: that Sara has chosen Gaito over Taro. But the key difference is that Sara lives.

It is possible that Taro could have wished Sara well in his heart and continued to pursue music. But I think it is more likely still that he would stay in Japan, constantly looking out to sea as long as his mermaid princess was still alive.

Which brings me to the fact that we would have seen how Taro and Hanon would both had to learn how to let go at the same time. Nagisa would still appear as part of the story, and Taro would still gift Hanon his music score. But with Taro’s constant presence (and Sara’s choosing of Gaito), Hanon would be more determined than ever to win Taro’s heart. Taro would then have to constantly gently reject and refuse Hanon’s advances, and maybe set Nagisa and Hanon up. (which he kinda did already, even if he was far away in Germany)

Sara would resurface every now and then, and Taro will then have to struggle with practicing what he preaches. He would have kept telling Hanon to move on from him, but likewise, Sara would have had to give him similar advice that he would have to follow.

Which reminds me, I haven’t even talked about Sara proper yet. 😅

2) Sara would be the one taking care of Seira rather than Luchia

This is interesting because we go into the details of what exactly is the relationship between Sara and Seira. Generally, we’ve been considering Seira and Sara as two separate mermaids, two separate souls. However, Hippo noted all the way in Episode 1 that “Pearls are an element of mermaids”, or even more specifically, “真珠わ人魚の分身” (lit: pearls are a “clone”/”alter ego” of mermaids). This suggests that while it is definitely possible that mermaids can be alive without their pearls, they would also be incomplete without them. Which means to say, that the pearls contain an essential identity inseparable from the mermaids who possesses them.

This raises the question of the Orange Mermaid Princess’ Pearl: if Sara is still lives, can Seira be born? Which leads us to think about something even more interesting: can we consider Seira as a reincarnation of Sara? And there’s even more: do the Mermaid Princesses have friendships that lasts beyond lifetimes, reincarnation after reincarnation?

This is of course, assuming that every mermaid owns a pearl that they keep in their shell necklace. But, if we assume that the pearl is more like a Crown Jewel for each kingdom, then perhaps it is possible for Seira to be born at the will of Sara’s abdication being approved by Aqua Regina.

Even so, I cannot imagine the relationship between Sara and Seira to be anything but profoundly deep and intimate. Even if we allow for the fact that the ownership of the pearl can be transferred when the previous owner is still alive, there is a sense that Sara is at once Seira’s mother and other self. Sara has so much to teach Seira about the beauty of the Indian Ocean Kingdom and all her culture. But consequently that means that Seira will spend more of her time in the Panthalassa Palace with Sara and Gaito. It would be nice to see Gaito’s humane side for once, responding to the antics of a kid. At some point, Seira would surface, not only to experience the human world but also to socialise and meet with the other Mermaid Princesses. Which brings me to:

3) All the Mermaid Princesses will be present.

The power of the seven Mermaid Princesses have been shown to be invincible when they are combined. Michel would be somewhat less threatening, even though he is still as powerful. Seira would have been protected during her birth in the Indian Ocean, considering the fact that Sara could have more easily gathered all the Mermaid Princesses to witness and protect the birth of Seira together if she was alive.

If Michel was successful in absorbing Seira’s power though, Sara would have been the caretaker of Seira’s pearl, which would have been even more interesting to see what Sara might confess to Seira in their private moments alone in the subconscious realm.

Other stuff:

It would have been interesting to see how Kaito and Gaito interact as brothers, but also at the same time they were both brought up in vastly different environments; it would take a lot of communication for them to kindle a sense of brotherhood. If Sara had lived, I would also be keen to see how she would make amends to Coco, and perhaps a couple of episodes following the duo as they explore the human world.

Thank you so much for the ask, anon! This was such a fun rabbit hole to dig into. 😆

#mermaid melody #pichi pichi pitch #sara #seira #mitsuki tarou #asks #theories #hoshou hanon

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razorblade180 · 4 years

Text

Twin Snowflakes pt15:Foreign Princess

“Hmmm no….” Veronica said, looking at the architecture. “That’s not it either. Where could it be?” Veronica’s search for inspiration wasn’t off to the best start. The girl casually hopped from rooftop to rooftop while clutching her journal, jotting down all she found interesting around her. However, the time limit before school was cramping her style. At least Mantle was far warmer than Atlas. Veronica had decided on exploring this city over Atlas since she would no doubt be seeing plenty of it later.

Veronica finally stopped moving when she reached the rooftops of an apartment building. The girl sat on the edge in crisscross fashion and looked out at the one of the several heating factories. This one in particular was angled perfectly the kingdom above. Giving off an interesting duality as the warm red and orange glow of it clashed with the cold icy blue.

‘This place might not have good weather or even interesting people, but there’s a charm to it I suppose. Manufactured warmth feels different from Menagerie’s heat; I dig it.’ Veronica began sketching.

About half an hour passed like it was nothing before the sound of her alarm buzzed and vibrated. Unfortunately Veronica didn’t get as far along as she wanted to “Just when I was getting into the swing of things” she grumbled. “Next time.” Veronica packed up her belongings and stood up, getting one more good look at it. It really was beautiful in its own strange way.

A cool breeze a wind passed by her nose right as she was about to leave, making her linger a bit longer by a curious smell. “What the?” She took a deeper sniff to double check. ‘Did that brat follow me all the way from her house?’ Veronica looked all around her but didn’t see Summer. She didn’t hear her either, so what on Remnant smelled like her but wasn’t? Veronica closed her eyes then took one more deep inhale, opening her eyes and looking down the side of the building to spot what looked to be a child in an oversized coat staring back at Veronica. The girl silently watched Veronica with wide eyes before remembering her manors and waving. “H-Hello.”

Veronica stepped off the roof and onto the fire escape. She could’ve used the stairs but thought it more flashy for her spectator to watch her go through each platform as if she was descending down an elevator until Veronica’s feet finally hit the ground. The little girl definitely seemed amazed while Veronica got a better look at that fancy dust jacket that was clearly unaffordable by that girl.

Veronica:Hey kid. Got a name?

Ruth:Yes…

Veronica:......And it is…..?

Ruth:You haven’t given me your name yet. Stranger danger!

Veronica:What!? You’re the one who was watching- sigh, my name is Veronica.

Ruth:Ruth, that’s my name.

Veronica:Well then Ruth, mind telling me why a kid your age is watching people from an alleyway?

Ruth:I was staring out the window of the orphanage when I saw you flipping on the buildings from across the street. You were all like whoosh! Speeeew! Twirl! And then you stuck the landing! I wanted to keep watching, so I snuck out. You’re talented.

Veronica:It’s all in the tail. That and I’m pretty awesome to begin with.

Ruth:Wow, I don’t ever think I’ve seen a faunus like you before.

Veronica:Yeah, well-

Ruth:You’re so clean!

Veronica:W-What? Did you say clean?

Ruth:Yeah, I’ve only seen ones that were covered in oil or whatever. You’re also wearing a school uniform. Almanac? Wait, that’s in Atlas! You’re from Atlas!?

Veronica:No, just visiting. Tell me, how often do you see these faunus?

Ruth:Usually during lunch, or after a big emergency. Like a fire or something. Actually, it’s always a fire.

Veronica:Do they happen to wear a bunch of yellow and be in a red truck?

Ruth:All the time!

A breath of relief slipped out of Veronica. She bent down to meet the girl at eye level.

Veronica:Those people are called firefighters ya know?

Ruth:Really? I feel like I should’ve known that.

Veronica:(Got me worked up for nothing.) since we’re learning things Ruth, can you tell me where you got such an intriguing jacket? It even glows like my scarf.

Ruth:I got it from a super cool pop singer! She’s going to help raise money for the orphanage so I have a nice place to stay until my parents come back to get me! She gave me a super cool pinky promise that she wouldn’t let me down.

Veronica:Is that so? Would this singer happen to be Summer Schnee? Really light blonde hair and deep blue eyes?

Ruth:You know her!?

Veronica:In a way.

Ruth:WOW! You’re so lucky. She’s so gentle and kind, sings like an angel!

Veronica:....Eh

Ruth:Huh? “Eh?” What’s that mean?

Veronica:I’ll let you in on a little secret. Pop Stars are like spoiled princesses. She might actually be the queen of them all. That girl has hissy fits and greedy moments.

Veronica pinched the bridge of her nose and made herself sound higher pitched. “Do this! Do that! Leave me be! Why are you even here! Bring me my water!” Veronica made a fake laugh that eventually turned into a real one, amused by her own impression. Ruth seemed shocked.

Ruth:Is she really like that?

Veronica:Oh yeah. A bit of a crier too. As fragile as fresh ice that one, you would think with fans like you she’d never be upset.

Ruth:If she’s all those things…does that mean she won’t-

Veronica:But I’ll admit, that spoiled little princess reigns like a princess should do with her subjects. I mean she is looking after little girls like you. I bet she’s thinking about what song to sing for your orphanage every day.

Ruth:*wide eyed* You think so?

Veronica:I know so! And between the two of us… I’m hoping for something from her second album.

Ruth:That one is my favorite!!!

Veronica:Get out of town! Mine too. That princess isn’t perfect by any means, but that voice just might be. It is part of the reason people adore her so much.

Ruth:You know a lot about her.

Veronica:I know a lot about a lot of things, I’m super smart.

Ruth:And pretty!

Veronica:Awwww!

Ruth:Also you’re athletic.

Veronica:This is also very true.

This girl was a sweet talker. She had Veronica’s ears practically dancing. The subtle wiggles back and forth mesmerized Ruth. She couldn’t help but slowly reach for them when suddenly the quick movement of Veronica’s hand grabbed her wrist; making Ruth jump. The happy look on Veronica’s face was replaced with a blank stare that was a little unsettling. Veronica didn’t even realize she was doing it until she saw Ruth start to look frightened. ‘Shit…’ Veronica let go immediately and tried easing the girl with a soft smile.

Veronica:So sorry about that! I don’t know what came over me; it was a reflex.

Ruth:It...It’s okay…

Veronica:Let me teach you something else Ruth, more important than the word firefighter. This will be something very important so remember it well.

Ruth:What is it?

Veronica:It’s very rude to touch faunus traits without permission. You wouldn’t just start touching a human without asking right?

Ruth:Oh, that makes sense. I’m sorry, your ears are just super pretty.

Veronica:*red* Well...thank you. Traits like these are super sensitive, especially mine. That’s why it’s impolite to grab them. Even my tail would be in a lot of pain if I wasn’t expecting someone to grab it.

Ruth:I don’t think I’ve ever seen a kitty like you.

Veronica:I guess you can say...I’m a very special breed. Rare and super cool. If you wanna touch a faunus’s trait then you should ask first. Or in a situation that involves ears…

Veronica held her own hand out palm up for Ruth to follow her lead. Veronica slowly turned her palm down and back up consecutively, watching Ruth mimic the motion. She tilted her head lower and guided the girls' hand ears for Ruth began gliding her fingers across them. Ruth couldn’t help but gasp.

Ruth:Soft….

Veronica:It’s a gesture. If the faunus is okay with you touching their ears then they’ll tilt their head down for you to feel them. For a tail you keep your palm facing down and slowly move your hand side to side, then they’ll raise their tail to meet it. Always let a faunus make the choice; it’s rude otherwise.

Ruth:Okay! I’ll remember! You really do know a lot. Why is that? School here wouldn’t teach something like this at all.

Veronica:I’m not surprised. Do me a favor and teach all your friends this okay? It would be a big help. Sharing things like this is more or less what someone like me should spread around as much as possible. After all, I’m considered something like a princess myself.

Ruth:Seriously! I’ve met two princesses!?

“And a prince too.” A voice called out from behind Veronica. She turned around to see Nick staring at the two of them and getting closer.

Ruth:(Oh my gosh, he’s so handsome! He looks like Summer.)

Veronica:I thought you didn’t like to be called prince?

Nick:Well in this circumstance I was forced to use my authority more than my skills as a knight. Aren’t you at all a little bit curious on how I found you?

Veronica:Now that you mention it, how did you find me so fast? No way you looked all over Atlas before coming here.

Nick:Like I said, authority. I just told the captain of the guard on watch to tell the other soldiers to let me know if they spot a blonde faunus girl in a school uniform. Pretty easy since you were traveling by rooftop.

Veronica:Any reason you said faunus girl instead of my name?

Nick:Now, now, you know how these things go when it comes to getting results around her. Not to mention people don’t exactly know you by name since it’s been awhile since you were here. A description did better than a name. Not like I gave them time to run you through some database? If they even have you in one since you don’t go to a combat school and Menagerie is so independent.

Ruth:(She’s...from Menagerie? What’s that?)

Veronica:Fine, I get it. Not that I like it but I get it. It does send my heart racing though to think my dear knight would put on his heavy crown just to find his princess. Oh it’s like a fairy tale!

Nick:You spun this into a good situation real fast.

Ruth:Is this guy your boyfriend or something? He’s really pretty.

Veronica:Isn’t he? That’s the princesses twin brother, Nicholas Schnee. He’s crazy about me.

Nick:Stop spreading rumors!

Veronica:You know I’m right.

Ruth:I’ve heard that name before, even heard that voice. This is my first time seeing your face before. It’s a nice face.

Nick:Thank you. Judging by that coat I guess you’re the sweet little girl my sister made a promise to. A little dangerous for you to be roaming around by yourself like this, don’t you think?

Ruth:Maybe a tiny bit. But Veronica has taught me a lot so it’s been pretty worth it!

Nick:I bet, sadly I gotta take her somewhere now though that she has to be real soon. Why don’t we walk you back and-

Veronica:Not so fast there. Ruth, don’t you think a girl brave enough to sneak out is smart enough to go back as well before anything happens.

Ruth:Duh, who wouldn’t be?

Veronica:Then I guess that means you better hightail it outta her. This time though, stick to the sidewalks near the main streets. Alleyways are dangerous you know? And don’t make this habit, can’t have annoying grownups calling off the fundraiser because you’re being naughty.

Ruth:I haven’t even thought of that! I should probably get back fast!

Veronica:Clever girls make sure not to run near the road. Speed walking works fine though.

She bent down and gave Ruth her scarf that Summer loaned her. Veronica gave the girl a thumbs up and watched her speed walk away, which was more like a jog honestly. Oh well, as long as Ruth remembered the safety aspect.

Nick:What was that all about?

Veronica:Dummy, we’re on a time limit right? Knowing you it would take too long to walk her home because you would’ve gotten caught up in some conversation that would’ve slowed you down. Seriously, can’t you worry about putting yourself first for once?

Nick:Hahaha! You know me, always trying to help. We’ll probably still be a little late, so why don’t we grab some brea-Ah!

Veronica:*pulling him* I might hate school but I refuse to drag you down because of it.

Nick:....(Well that didn’t work.)

Nick willingly let the girl grab his arm and go towards the closet airship going back up to Atlas. He watched the girl sway back and forth calmly, she seemed happy enough. Maybe Yang was worried for nothing?

xxxx

The trip up to Atlas was faster than expected. They actually had plenty of time to spare. Nick knew the quickest route but he hadn’t gotten the chance to catch up with his friend yet. Not to mention Valerie would probably show up a few minutes late to their meetup spot like always; might as well kill a little time. Who knows, Veronica could get hungry.

Nick:Hey, why don’t we slow down a little? No reason to get there early at this rate we might reach the school before they let anyone in.

Veronica:Okay, don’t mind dragging my feet a little.

Nick:Cool. (Yes!) So, it’s been awhile huh? Around a year maybe?

Veronica:Something like that. Last time we saw each other was...a concert?

Nick:Yacht party.

Veronica:Oof, can we pretend it was the concert?

Nick:What!? Problem with the yacht party?

Veronica:Yeah, a hangover and embarrassment. Those memories can stay on that boat.

Nick:Whatever you say Vee.

Veronica:Still with nicknames. What are we, twelve?

Nick:I could make us eight again and call you Vee Vee, or KitKat.

Veronica:*red*Ugh, put those in a time capsule and bury it. I’ll take Vee over any of those.

Nick:Good to know I can still get a reaction out of ya. Looks like the only thing that’s changed is your hair length.

Veronica:We can’t all be like you. I didn’t notice it last night but, you’ve gotten taller.

Nick:Pfft, no need to pick on me.

Veronica:I’m serious! Stand still and I’ll show you.

He stopped walking to humor her. Veronica grabbed him by the shoulders to line him up with herself and then got really close, a couple of inches away in fact.

It took a minute to register but Nick’s eyes widened when he realized he was staring directly into Veronica’s eyes without tilting his head up at all.

Nick:Woah…

Veronica:See? We’re the same height now from the looks of it.I have to admit that this is a little weird, not being taller than you. At this rate I’ll be the one looking up in no time. Can’t believe you didn’t notice.

Nick:Well, being 5’6 is still pretty short for a dude so…

Veronica:Oh boy. Height isn’t everything you dork. You have prizes and awards to prove this. Besides, *red* I like seeing you just like this.

Nick:*red* Oh! Well uh…. let’s keep walking okay!? *starts moving*

Veronica:Was that cold wind or blush I spotted? *moves*

Nick:No idea what you’re talking about.

Veronica:I guess there’s many things about you that haven't changed either hehehe. Mentally anyways, your shoulders are also a little broader,

Nick:Training will do that to a person. Speaking of which, still in gymnastics?

Veronica:Nah, no point since I can’t compete. Cheerleading at my school is incredibly stupid at my school too so I didn’t even bother trying out this year.

Nick:How exactly is school going over there?

Veronica:.....

Nick:....Vee!

Veronica:Huh? I’m sorry, what?

Nick:School?

Veronica:Oh, that… stupid people like always, talking out their own ass like usual and finding a way to piss me off; less fights though. Overall all that is. No fights at all this year.

Nick:None…?

Veronica:Well…there was a tiny scuffle. Not my fault in any way..

Nick:We are dangerously close to my school Veronica.

Veronica:I promise you, things will be fine. I don’t even have actual classes to take so it’s mandatory after school for me. I don’t need to talk to more people than necessary. This might actually be a paradise.

Nick:It astounds me that someone as popular and multi talented as you just has zero patience for people. I bet your friend group would at least triple in size.

Veronica:*rubs head* Eh, debatable. I’m drowning in enough popularity as it is. Anymore would be a complete nightmare. I wouldn’t get any work done. Then who would make your tournament gear?

Nick:Penny.

Veronica:Ouch, I should make you pay for yours just for that.

Nick:You know I would if you let me.

Veronica:I’m aware. Keep your money until I’m famous and you gotta make an appointment.

Nick:Damn, you gonna put me on a waiting list, that’s cold.

Veronica:Invest in my company and I might bend some rules for you. That’s just good business.

Nick:Whitley would be proud to hear that.

Veronica:Oooo since you’re bringing him up, have you told him yet? Or anyone for that matter?

The playful conversation quickly turned into a semi sensitive one. Nick sighed like he was trying to knock the air out of his lungs before looking back at Veronica with a look of defeat.

Veronica:So that’s a no. You should really do something about that.

Nick:Like what? Just say “Hey Uncle, I know you’ve been teaching me how to run the company for years but I don’t wanna be heir. Sorry for wasting your time.”

Veronica:Perfect. Ten out of ten.

Nick:Please be serious.

Veronica:I am! I’m positive your family wouldn’t want to throw the title of heir to burden someone who doesn’t want it, given their family history.

Nick:There’s nobody else to give it to! Summer is happily doing her own thing. Whitley and Ruby don’t have kids. I’m all that’s left.

Veronica:Sparrow-

Nick:Enjoys the open sea. I’m the first born, they’ve been preparing for years now. Can’t waste that knowledge right?

Veronica:Hmph, all I’m saying is everyone else seems to be flying in whatever direction they please. So why are you in a cage that doesn’t have to exist?

Nick:I’m...not in a cage. Besides, I like representing my family the way I can. It’s no different from you learning culture from both sides of your family and attending so many support rallies. You’re gonna be a symbol of union your whole life.

Veronica:No one really cares about that stuff unless I do bad. I’m still free to do whatever I want by choice. I still have my old gymnastics gear if I decide to put in the work. I can surf to my heart's content and no one makes a big deal about it. If you stop ice skating or pick another hobby then people will ask why.

Nick:You...You aren’t wrong. Still, it’s not like I plan to stop skating. Even if I did, plenty of people would eventually understand and support whatever I do. Not that I really care. Frankly, I never did.

His tone was a bit colder, and less energetic. Nick put his hands on top of his head and started walking like he had nowhere to be. A smile crept on to Veronica’s face as she reached to move his hair away from his face.

Veronica:There he is.

Nick:Huh?

Veronica:Your face and demeanor, you’re finally not using that preppy attitude. Not that it isn’t cute but I like seeing the true face that matches your words.

Nick:I haven’t been doing that with you?

Veronica:Nope. Not that I can blame you though. It takes awhile to warm back up to people.

Nick:Is that why you were ruder than usual to Summer?

Veronica:No, her face just irritates me.

Nick:Not what I wanted to hear…

Veronica:I know, but it’s better than a lie. Don’t worry though, I’ll try to be less...confrontational. I refuse to blamed for you two losing the tournament because of some stupid argument.

Nick:Not the greatest reason to be nice but I’ll take it. Both of you getting along would be pretty nice to see.

Veronica:Gross. That’s almost as bad as dealing with Valerie. Still a bit pissed about that black eye she gave me.

Nick:And I’m positive she’s upset about the broken nose. Where the heck is she anyways? She usually bumps into a few blocks back.

Veronica:Maybe she saw me and turned tail like a wuss.

Nick:.....

Veronica:You’re right, she would’ve kicked me.

Nick:Can you hear her by any chance?

Veronica:You make it seem like I could tell her footsteps from anybody else. It’s all people walking in the snow to me, rather loudly at that.

Nick:Hmmm… odd, Valerie doesn’t miss school.

Veronica:I would if Igot caught in several explosions yesterday. Might even sleep for the rest of week if I was her.

Nick:Yeah you’re probably right. I’m pretty sore myself. It’s also possible she took a different way to school. Hopefully the second option, Eliza has been in a bit of mood recently. Anyways, we should probably pick up the pace. We’ve dragged our feet enough.

Veronica:Fine by me. The cold is starting to get to my legs. Who designs school uniforms like this in a frigid climate!?

Nick:You’ll get used to it. Oh and before I forget, I’m more a fan on Summer’s third album.

Veronica:*red* I….you….eavesdropping isn’t nice Nicholas!

Nick:My hearing might be average but at least I know how to whisper properly.

He gave a smile before taking off down the street, Veronica only a few steps behind him. It had been awhile since she saw him, even longer since she’s seen that smile. It was a funny thing, being around him. She was the one with Xiao Long blood and yet to her, Nicholas was the one who shined bright like the sun. Even if he didn’t try to want to, he made things better. A tinge of red came over Veronica’s face as she thought about it. Distance is a funny thing. Her feelings never wavered and yet, her heart felt like it was falling in love all over again. Veronica was determined to make the most of her time here.

xxxx

The day might’ve been getting started for most people but for Whitley, who had been diligently going through paperwork at the SDC headquarters for at least five hours. Since Ruby was away on a mission, Summer’s request, the arrival of Veronica, and the tournament steadily approaching, now seemed like a good time to make sure all the boring legal stuff was going smoothly. He loved all of his Sister’s friends, he married one after all. However, both him and Blake always shared a mutual groan of agony whenever they had to visit each other’s respective base of operations. If it wasn’t the kids, then it was the press. If it wasn’t the press, then it was some protest group or plans fall apart. The only saving grace was the kids at least knew how to act in public around each other. Building bridges for others to cross would be nearly impossible otherwise.

Though he was working diligently, it didn’t stop the fatigue from gnawing at him. Poor guy was running on autopilot. He might’ve passed out right then and there if it hadn’t been for the buzz of his personal intercom.

Whitley:Yes Ciel?

Ciel:You have a visitor.

Whitley:Please tell them to make a proper appointment. I’m very busy right now.

Ciel:You heard him Mrs. Rose.

Ruby:Darn, I only wanted to bring my sleep deprived life partner a delicious breakfast from home. Oooohhhh weeelllll.

Whitley:Ciel, please let my wife in, even though she has a key to the door.

Ciel:Right away.

She buzzed the cheeky redhead in and left them, locking the door as well.

Ruby:You only call me your wife when you miss me. I’m touched.

Whitley:I always miss you.

Ruby:And I’m always touched, funny how life works that way. *shaking tupperware* Want some bacon, fried eggs, and hash browns?

Whitley:That’s not a question worth asking. It’s always yes and you know this.

Ruby:Then here you go, you workaholic.

Whitley:I don’t wanna hear that from you. Aren’t you supposed to be on a mission still.

Ruby:I wrapped it up as quick as possible. Promises to keep and all that. I’m on training duty from now until the end of the tournament for Summer. Which means you better be ready for a delicious breakfast all the time now.

Whitley:If I knew it took our niece to get you to stay still, then I’d invite her over more often.

Ruby:Well if someone had a normal sleep schedule then I would’ve gladly been in our bed for as long as you like. I was looking forward to seeing those sleepy eyes of yours wake up to see me. Instead I get tired.

Whitley:Tired, but not drained. I’d gladly keep you still on this desk.

Ruby:*red* Honestly, at this point this desk has seen more action than our bed. Not that I’m complaining.

Whitley:Your sister and niece are in town by the way. It’ll probably be smart to say hello before Yang hunts you down.

Ruby:You’re probably right about that. So, little kitty Veronica has once again broken free from Menagerie? Good for her, I wonder if she’s doing any better? Probably as anxious as ever.

Whitley:Apparently she is helping the school with the tournament. Weiss said she stormed out immediately at the news.

Ruby:As expected. *frowns* You think she’s gonna be okay, overall?

Whitley:I’m not a faunus, let alone one with a mutation. Or would it be better to call it a disorder?

Ruby:Kinda splitting hairs at that point. You do know what being alone feels like though. Alone, cut off from others and not even fully understanding yourself. Frankly….I wish she saw Oscar like Summer does. Both of them worry me to no end. It doesn’t help they have stubbornness in their blood that refuses to ask for actual help.

Whitley:I hope you know that one of those kids actually has some of your DNA while the other watches you every chance she gets.

Ruby:Like I said, splitting hairs. Personally, I wouldn’t mind if those two decided to hate each other or even do things the hard way for the rest of their lives, as long they’re comfortable with themselves that is.

Whitley:Since when do you promote mentalities like that.

Ruby:I’m not promoting it, just trying to aim a little low so I’ll be excited if things turnout even better than my wish. Atlas wasn’t built in a day though. I might be old and gray before I see it at this rate. Perhaps I could-

Whitley:You’ll only stress Summer out and make Veronica do something she’ll regret.

Ruby:Ugh, I don’t remember adolescence being this crazy. Maybe it’s the magic in the air…

Whitley:Or we’re finally out of touch with the youth. Good thing Nick bridges that gap. Kid needs a nap though or else he’s gonna drop.

Ruby:Gee that sounds familiar.

Whitley can’t help but chuckle a little. Ruby takes the time to walk behind him and drapes her body over his while he continues to write. Most of the papers were finished and looked uninteresting. All, except for the one labeled Saint Harold’s. Suddenly, her blood went a little cold.

Ruby:Orphanage papers?

Whitley:....Yeah, Summer wants to raise money. She promised a girl that was sent there by her parents that had fallen on hard times.

Ruby:I see.Saint Harold’s, the same orphanage that uncle Qrow and Winter got Sparrow.

Whitley:Yeah. I haven’t told anyone but I took liberty of looking up Ruth’s parents, the girl Summer made the promise to.

Ruby:What made you do that?

Whitley:Not sure, sixth sense? A looming thought I couldn’t get rid of. That girl’s parents….skipped town. I doubt they’ll be coming back.

.....

Ruby:Are we gonna pretend you aren’t bringing all this up for a specific reason?

Whitley:Ruby, I know this isn’t easy for you. I know I can never truly understand how you must feel about not having a kid of your own, but that doesn’t change the reality that there are still kids who will love you if you’ll open your arms to them. Kids that I want to take care of with you, instead of constantly looking over other people’s children. So, I’m just asking if-

Ruby:I will, I’ll think about it. For real this time. S-

She wasn’t allowed to apologize. Not while he was around anyways. Whitley shutdown all of her words in favor of occupying Ruby’s lips with his own, kissing her gently before breaking it.

Her face went a little red and she remained quiet. Whitley slowly swiveled the chair in her direction and took Ruby’s hand. He tugged on her lightly, not enough to move her but to prompt Ruby to get closer until she decided to straddle his lap. Not the smartest idea since now she was forced to look into her calm eyes.

Whitley:I’ll always be patient with you, and I’ll love you, no matter your choice.

Ruby:You’d be sad though if it is a no though.

Whitley:I would be, I can admit that. Doesn’t change my feelings for you, or perception. Yes, being a parent would be nice but as long as I have you my life will always be filled with happiness. I love you Ms. Rose.

Ruby:I love you too, Mr.Schnee.

She dove back in for another kiss that was eagerly accepted. Ruby almost got lost in it until she heard the sound of a glyph forming, making her turn her head around and seeing all of his papers carefully being moved off the desk before Whitley picked her up. The reaper let out a surprised yelp and giggle while he sat her down and pressed the intercom button.

Whitley:Ciel-

Ciel:Door is locked and all calls are being put on hold.

Whitley:Thank you, feel free to go out for breakfast or rest in the break room.

Ruby:At this point I wonder if she has a routine for this. Here we are yet again, isn’t this unprofessional in the workplace? *winks*

Whitley:It is. As CEO it’s my job to let all in this building no what is and isn’t tolerated.

Ruby:I think I need a hands on demonstration sir.

Glyphs formed around Ruby’s wrists that kept her in place. She couldn’t help but smile mischievously, as well. This is always better than the bed.

Part 14

#rwby #rwby twin snowflakes #nicholas schnee #rwby wild rose #veronica belladonna #whitley schnee #ruby rose #rwby au #ciel soleil

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leonthecardboardunicorn · 4 years

Text

The Ruined King, chapter 3

(Credit to @ghostnightbride for the materials for the banner!)

Pairing: Felix x Liz

Summary: Hawkeye is once again moving through Gedonelune, and it looks like their aim is on the heart of the Dragonkin Ruins. It looks like we’ll need the help of the three Reciters to solve this mystery!

Previous: Chapter 2

First: Chapter 1

Contains spoilers for the Melody of Awakening spinoff!

Emerging through the forest, a decrepit gate and cracked window frames greeted us.

'It's strange,' I thought, 'I must have been here a thousand times before, but it's different now.' Different to be visiting it with actual Dragonkins. 'What must this have been like when it was in its prime?'

I stole a glance over at Felix's face, gazing up at the ruins. Sadness and surprise flashed across his face. "This is.. What has become of us?"

"Felix.."

"..We should get going."

"Can I ask an awkward question?" Lacan's voice broke through the silence as we walked.

"What is it, Lacan?"

"Um.. what are your names? I know Liz, I remember you, and I know Hugo and Mischa, since they've come round for tea. But the rest of you.. I mean, I know that we met before, but it was all kind of a blur back then.”

Oh, right. Just because we knew his story didn't mean that he knew anything about us.

"I.. probably should have asked about that as well,” Felix admitted.

"What? Lacan, I can understand, but you Felix.. You don't even know our names?!"

Felix met Zeus with a blank stare. "..Why would I? You were just pains in my side."

"Well, I suppose there's no harm in introducing ourselves again," Caesar said with a laugh. "I'm Caesar Raphael."

"The loud mouth is Zeus," Hugo said, glancing over his shoulder.

"Ah, I wondered who that was!" Lacan said. “Hugo's always talking about you!” Felix nodded.

"Hey!” Zeus shot a dirty look at Hugo.

One by one, they introduced themselves. "I'm Yukiya; this is Seth."

"I'm Elias Goldstein; Alfonse here is my eldest brother."

"Elias was the other one who defeated Drago," I said.

"Ah, I do know of the Goldsteins," Felix mused.

"..Yeah, you broke into our laboratory," Alfonse said.

Lacan gave him a confused look, but Felix coughed. "..Moving on. What about your merchant friend? The one who had Twilight?"

"Oh, Hisoka?" I wasn't expecting him to remember him. "He's not with us right now; I think that he's in Queensblade right now."

"You certainly have a lot of friends.." Felix muttered. In the back of my mind, he almost sounded wistful.

I shivered as we walked deep into the ruins. I'd been down here in the ruins before, but it never got any less creepy to visit them. As we walked, I noticed that some of the others seemed to be slowing down.

Lucious, Zeus, and Hiro seemed to linger behind us. Shu, on the other hand, was even more lively, chirping happily as he flew behind us.

Even Felix seemed a little unnerved. 'I wonder what this is like for him.'

"So, how do we know Hawkeye will be headed to these ruins?" Caesar asked, trailing behind Willem.

"There are certain treasures that the humans entrusted to us long ago," Willem said. "Though we were sealed away, they should still be buried deep enough that they shouldn't have been found by the humans.”

Caesar sighed. "I wonder if Hawkeye's already gotten there by now. They did get a bit of a headstart on us.”

"Who cares?" Zeus said, grinning from ear to ear. "If they've gotten the jewels or whatever, I'll just summon something big and scary to fight them off! Maybe I'll summon Vulcanaux!"

"You will not!” Zeus jumped as Felix walked up to him, his voice as cold as ice. “If you were to summon a creature like Vulcanaux here, you would bring this place down on top of us. I will not allow you to destroy this sacred place!”

Zeus recoiled as though burnt. "Sorry.."

Felix turned away, walking past him; I hurried after him. I heard the others muttering to Zeus. “Nice going, genius..”

The eeiry feeling continued as we went deeper down the halls. Shu flew ahead of us, happily chirping as we explored the halls.

'It almost feels like.. someone is watching me.' I glanced over my shoulder, but I didn't see anyone. 'I don't know why this place gives me such creeps..'

I looked at the walls. Even if it was growing darker, I could make out intricate carvings on the walls. I was so focused on the walls, I wasn't looking where I was going, and my foot caught on a loose tile-

"Woah!"

And suddenly found strong arms catching me. I looked up into green, green eyes.

"..Watch your step," Felix said, helping me to my feet.

"Right." I stood up, though I couldn't understand why my heart was racing so much.

“I'm sure that we've come down this way before.” Lacan peeked his head down the branching pathway.

“No, I'm sure that that way is connected to the Labyrinth,” Willem said with a sigh.

“Don't ask me, you're the ones who always came down here.”

It was a strange sight, seeing the three powerful Dragonkin bickering over something like directions. But a noise echoed through the halls- a stomach growling.

“..It's probably been a fair few hours since we set out,” Willem said gently. “Perhaps this would be a good time to stop and eat?”

We all took seat around the hall, pulling out our lunches.

"I brought some cookies for everyone!" I said. With the Reciters, our group was larger than normal, so I'd made sure to bake more than usual. I had made little bags for everyone.

"Cookies?" Their expressions lit up as they took the bags.

"Here," I passed out the bags. I pulled Shu close to me. "I've got some treats for you too, Shu." He happily chirped as he nibbled on the treats. I patted his head.

'So adorable..'

I noticed Felix gazing at us curiously. He had seemed to like cookies before when we had been at the Night Cafe together. “Would you like some too, Felix?”

“I suppose.” He hesitantly took one of the cookies, nibbling on it.

"Willem's been introducing us to all sorts of wonderful foods," Lacan said happily. "I can't believe we've never tried them before!"

"I have to thank Liz,” Willem said sweetly. “She's taught me a lot of the recipes."

“Hey, Felix, there's something that I wanted to ask you.” He looked up at me from his cookie. “I noticed there's a lot of carvings and writings on the walls. Do you know what it says?”

He sat up a little straighter. “Yes, actually, the three of us were the ones who put the carvings in. It was our job to transcribe the history of the Dragonkin upon these walls.”

“So then the Reciters are like the historians of the Dragonkin?” I asked.

“I'm sure you could find a lot of records on these walls,” Willem said.

“My favorite story was about our friendship with the Night Kingdom,” Lacan said. “I think that should be somewhere around here.”

“You have records of that?” Lucious said, his eyes lighting up. “I want to see!”

The others pitched in their questions, asking about the various tales on the walls. And I could see Felix's eyes light up as he answered their questions.

In the end, we agreed to split up into three groups, each group following one of the Reciters down the various paths. Hugo, Zeus, Shu, and I followed Felix down the hall.

As we walked, the terrain of the ruins grew rougher. Even Felix and Zeus seemed to be struggling. 'I never thought that I'd see him struggle like this..'

And once again, we came to a branching path. “Should we split up again?”

“That won't be necessary,” he said coolly. “We shouldn't be far from the heart of the ruins now; I can send a few mini dragons to scout ahead.” As he spoke, he clasped his hands together, darkness pouring out of them and taking the form of two minidragons. They quickly scampered on the path ahead of us.

“Do you just have like minidragons that you can carry with you everywhere? You don't even need to summon them?” Zeus asked.

“Not quite. The power of Nightmare is the power to create out of shadows; what form that takes, whether it be minidragons, shadows, or a magical beast is up to me.”

“That would explain a lot.” I remembered the various magical beasts he had sent us before. Even a kraken.

“..Felix?” Felix glanced over at Zeus, who looked strangely sheepish for him. “I'm sorry about what I said before. About summoning the Vulcanaux earlier, I wasn't thinking about what this place meant to you.”

“Hmm.” It seemed like his expression softened. “I suppose this place must have always been a ruin in your time.”

“This place must hold a lot of memories for you,” I said.

“..Most of my memories of this place are of the battles that raged here."

"Battles?" I shivered.

"Many of them, tearing this place to ruins," he said, his gazing turning to the walls. The eeiry feeling was only starting to grow. "Those dragged into the dark." Okay that wasn't helping-" I can still hear-"

"Eep!" All eyes fell on me, and I quickly covered my mouth.

Felix looked at me, his eyes wide in surprise. "I.."

"..My apologies," he said after a moment. "Perhaps it would be best to stop there." I nodded.

"Thank you," I said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Something feels off in this place."

"There are places we've built that are more pleasant than this," Felix said wistfully. "During the war, the Dragonkin built a city deep beneath the earth, using crystals to light their path."

Wait, that sounded awfully familiar! "Are you talking about the Illusionary Town?"

"Have you been there?"

"Yes, we visited there when we were searching for the Star Sapphire! It was so beautiful.. Well, except for the part where we got chased by a winged man throwing feathers at us."

"Winged man.. winged man.." Felix muttered under his breath. "Are you talking about Ventus?"

"You knew him?!" But one look at Felix's face, and he burst into laughter. "Hey!"

"No, I have no idea who you're talking about," he said. "Perhaps a trap laid by the Dragonkins who made the town."

"Who knew he could laugh like that?"

"Look, there it is."

Shu stopped before a set of intricately carved doors.

Felix smirked. "Trust that a dragon of light would be able to find the temple's heart," he said. "The Gem of Light should be just beyond there."

"Can we go in there and just wait for the others?" Zeus asked.

"There's a reason it hasn't been disturbed yet; it is locked to Lacan's magic alone. Only he will be able to unlock it. I'll send the signal." He pulled down his hood, his horns starting to glow black.

"And now we wait," Zeus said, sitting down.

Felix turned to me with a smile. "I think if you look close enough, you can find a Ratatoskr in the designs.”

"Hree?" Shu flew up to the doors, examining them with such intensity that I couldn't help but laugh a little.

I took a closer look myself; indeed, there were many dragons carved through the door. "Ah, I found you!" Sure enough, there was a four winged dragon, brightly singing his little song. Shu cooed in happiness.

I noticed another carving in the door, of a dragon much larger than the rest.. one that I'd seen carvings of all of my life. "Felix," I said, "is this.."

"Hugo, the Dragon of Time." Even Hugo examined the door more closely.

"Did you know him?"

"Somewhat. Though why he trusted the humans.." His expression softened, then went blank.

"Does this have something to do with him?"

"We'll explain everything when we get inside," Felix said.

After a little while, I heard chatter; Willem appeared with Elias, Alfonse, and Yukiya.

"Wow, so you're telling me that you went back, after all of that?" Voices boomed round the corner. I looked up to see Lacan leading the way; Lucious was strolling at his side, Hiro and Caesar trailing behind.

"Ah!" He beamed as he came up to us. "Lucious was just telling me about your adventure in the Labyrinth, and how you all freed him and Felix!"

"That's one way of telling it."

"Lacan, will you do the honors?"

"Of course." Lacan walked up to the door, his horns glowing with light. In a moment, the doors parted, revealing the hidden chamber.

My breath hitched as we stepped inside. The chamber was set up like a throne room. A bright light shown from the center of the room.

"May I?" Lacan nodded; I carefully walked to the center, shielding my eyes from its glow.

The light was coming from a brilliant diamond, shining as bright as the sun; it looked to be about the size of a pomegranate. "This is.."

"The Gem of Light," Felix said. "The humans entrusted us with it, and we've kept it in here ever since."

"Will you tell us what's going on now?" The three reciters shared a look, stepping close to each other.

"The founders of Gedonelune crafted six gems, one for each element," Willem said. "Three of them were entrusted to the Dragonkin and buried within our land. Even when war was waged, we buried them so deep in our temples that the humans couldn't find them."

"What about the other three gems?"

"I believe they were entrusted to Gedonelune's noble families," Felix said. The noble families of Gedonelune?

"Oh!" Alfonse's eyes widened. "I've heard about those!"

"It is said there is a secret place, known only to the royal family, where the six gems are brought together," Willem said. "But if that should ever happen.."

And a voice spoke up from behind us, a voice that sent chills down my spine, "Then the Dragon of Time will be awakened once more."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucious: It was really interesting to hear about the history of the Dragonkin from them. I had no idea their history was so closely intertwined with ours.

Caesar: Did Lacan tell you about the history of the Night Kingdom?

Lucious: Yes! Apparently, our times were so close that some of our history got mixed up with theirs. Who would've thought?

Caesar: Oh, so you're as old as dirt just like them.

Lucious: ..Listen here!

Caesar: Uh-oh, looks like it's time for me to get out of here. Next time, Ruined Battle.

#wizardess heart #the Ruined King #Felix Starjune #Dragon's song

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allthingsobeyme · 5 years

Text

Little Mermaid AU pt.5

(Co written with @eddieveneziano )

----

MC took them to town and oh my God they are like a bunch of monkeys.

Luke had to yell at them to 'Keep your hands to yourself!' But do they even listen? No. Simeon chuckled while MC had a hand to their mouth to cover their giggled.

Mammon keeps running around and yelling soundlessly at things. He keeps pulling MC's arm and pointing to things. Things he thinks MC would like....

And something he can court them with.

Satan meanwhile goes to every crook and alley to see any books he could find. He is the only one among his brothers that can read the human books and understand their language. He was so excited to see books. Books! Books! Books! He even tugged MC and show them a couple of books that he think MC might be interested with.

Luke is trying so hard to pushed Beel from drowning over a HUGE 3 tier cake. "You can't eat that! It's for someone else! Hey !!! Big guy wait up!!!", Luke went off running after Beel. Belphegor follows MC around not knowing what to do until his eyes falls on the human thing called pilow. MC buys it for him after that.

Asmo meanwhile is running around looking at all the beauty. His eyes sparkles with every beautiful things his eyes can feast upon.

Leviathan was fixiated on a lonely goldfish he saw in the pet shop. Seeing how he looks at the goldfish, MC decided to buy him one. Leviathan blushes and tried to say thank you but MC only petted his head which makes his heart swore.

And Lucifer? Well he's absorbing all the things he saw. He sees how the humans do their work. Some anre running, laughing but what got his attention was a couple holding hands with such adoration in their eyes. He looks at his own hand and MC's.

If only they could do what the couple did. MC smiled at all the delighted and then stopped in front of a store window, it displayed some wedding items. They sighed, MC despite having everything longed to find a partner in life...

Lucifer stared back at MC and then frowned when he sensed loneliness in them. The brothers stopped and stared.

MC turned and gave Lucifer a soft smile and Lucifer felt his heart skip a beat, MC then headed to a shop.

"Simeon if the boys need me I'll be at the jewelry shop"

Simeon nodded as the brothers explored town square and Asmo stared starry eyed at the crystal fountain. So did some of the other brothers.

Simeon smiled.

"I see you like the fountain the you'll be glad to know MC created that as a symbol of the town"

---

Later that day....

"Alright, tours over. Now.....", Simeon took out a piece of paper, a feather and a bottle of ink. Satan perks up, interested.

"Their royal majesty forgots to asked your names. Considering all of you....got your tongues cut off, I have a paper and a feather here so you can write down your names."

Luke huffed and folded his arms. "Simeon, do they even KNOW how to write? They can't even do ONE single chore in the castle! They maybe all the looks but NO talent!", He barked.

'Dog', said the brothers internally. Satan raised his hand. Simeon arched his brow. "Do you know how to write?", He asked. Satan nodded and reached over the table and took the feather delicantly. He studies it and scratches his head. Luke face palm. "What, you never held a feather before???"

Satan shook his head. He writes with a fish bone before. But a bird's feather? Not so much. Luke sighed.

"Fine, fine, here let me show you. And all you scatterbrains better watched! I don't wanna do this again!", With that said, Luke opens the bottle of ink, dips the tip of the feather and wrote it on paper.

The boys 'oooohhh' silently while Satan nodded happily.

Now he knows how to communicate with MC.Later that day MC was given the papers with all their names. Lucifer was thankful thwir penmanships survived the transformation otherwise it would be while before they could even talk with MC.

"Let's see your names him"

He stared at the names, all in colored ink.

"Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmo, Beel, and Belphie"MC pointed at them in order, they all blushed and smiled and nodded happily.

It sounded good when they say.

"Its nice to meet you all, and I hope you enjoy your stay"

'We already enjoy it with you here'Lucifer mused.

"And I almost forgot"MC scrambled onto their shipping back. They pulled out 6 boxes and opened the top and they all gasped.

6 Necklaces each in their favorite colors.

"I thought it unfair I just gave a trinket like this to Mammon only...So I dug around the royal vault and found these for you"

Meanwhile Luke was bemaing with pride at being able to teach them to write as Simeon chuckled.

"You seem proud of them"

Luke blushed.

"No! No I'm not, the scatterbrains needed to learn is all!"

---

Meanwhile...

"Those poor unfortunate souls. So sad~ Indeed~", Barbatos humsvto himself as he dance around, imagining he is at a ballroom dancing with someone.

"Barbatos"

Barbatos looked over his shoulders. He continues to him and he swimmer about in his cave. The stranger glared.

"Barbatos"

"What is it that you want, Diavolo? Adding salt to the wound?", He spoke with such boredom in his voice.

"The 7 sea princes. Where are they?", Said Diavolo as he hold out his trident, aiming to attacked. Barbatos rolled his eyes. Same old, same old....

"And what about the 7 princes?"

"You helped them to get to the human world. I know you did"

"Oh really? And what do I get out of it?"

"Revenge"Revenge against Diavolo for baansishing him to the sea floor. What good of a way then to take away the 7 princes. The sea warlock was once Diavolo's faithful servant until he began abusing his magic.

Barbatos smiled cruely...He dissipated the illusion and swam over close to Diabolo and smirked

"Nothing could hurt the sea kingdom more than having their 7 princes disappear overnight...Imagine the chaos, how it would hurt them"

The trident in Diavolo's hand began to glow brightly.

"Tsk tsk dear Diavolo...I am the only one with the pour to take them back to the sea realm"

Diavolo gritted his teeth.

"Explain"

---

A few days later.

"Ah there you all are!"

MC smiled as they walkef over to their mute butlers. They were doing much better being butlers"

"I was hoping to ask you something"

They all stopped and nodded.

"I was hoping on bringing you all with me to King Solomon's ball, we could dance and I could show around his kingdom"

Dance? Lucifer and his brothers eyes went wide...Lucifer nodded vigtously.

"Great! Why don't we pick some clothes in the town for you all"

MC offeeed their hand to the brothers.

---

Dance? Dance? Dance!

Oh! Oh! Ever since they took dancing lessons with Simeon and Luke, the brothers are slowly learning and are getting better at it.

'Oh what should I wear? Pink? Yellow? Purple???', Asmo silently squel as he looks through the clothes in one of the shops that MC took them. Both Belphie and Beel decided on a simple tux as they don't want to overdo much. Mammon decided on something to reveal his chest so that he could charm MC. Satan also decided on a simple tux. Levi wanted something like shiny armour but MC told him that it'll be hard for them to dance with him and it made him blushed. Lucifer decided on a long tux that he hope will impressed MC.

"Are you sure MC? I thought that-"

"Even thou he's not the one who saved me, he was there for me Simeon...I just cannot refuse"

"Are you sure? What about them? The brothers I mean"

MC smiled. "I'm sure I can help them find happiness ! They are really kind and sweet!"

---

It was he ball, oh gosh it was nerve wracking but...

MC found that perhaps Solomon's proposal was more political than anything...They sighed, they thoughtbthey had found the one...

MC stopped sipping their drink when they felt a tap on their shoulder and turned to see who it was. Lucifer offwring them a hand.

"You wanna dance with Me?"

Lucifer nidded.

"Alright Lucifer.."

They carefully took his hand, and soon they were on the dance floor. Lucifer felt the pain of his feet lessen as he danced with his love, his brothers watched with envy but were happy.

MC smiled up at Lucifer.

But then frowned.

"I wish I could find someone for me sometimes you know Luci, everyone that wants to marry me...They just do it for political ties...Nobody like a royal that is kind to the poor I guess"

Lucifer frowned. He tilts their chin so that their eyes meet. He smiled. A genuine smile. He mouthed. "I love you", he said. MC blushed knowing the words he said.

"I um...I needed some fresh air. Please excuse me...", After the first dance, they biwed before leaving.

Satan was the first to approached and nudge him in the side. 'Don't be so full of yourself. We want MC too', he smirked. Lucifer smirked back.

'Who says I'm sharing?'

#obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me belphegor #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #little mermaid au #little mermaid

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kewltie · 4 years

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How do you come up with so many new ideas for stories? I feel like I’m constantly stumped and stuck with cliches (and while those are fun and I absolutely love them) I can never really think of something to make it my own? When I see your writing I feel like you’re able to take cliches and make it your own so much it no longer feels like one, I’m always so worried about making a story to similar to another when trying to put a spin on a classic trope, also! Hope youre doing okay during this time

hi anon!!!

such a good question to bring up! for me, personally, inspiration comes really easy bc im really easy. that sounds weird but i basically consume any form of media across various genres that would catch my interest. i read, watch, play (games mostly lol), etc and maintain a variety of interest in like all sort of things so i pull ideas from a lot of diff places. like, i REALLY REALLY love animals and nature documentaries so i like to incorporate that into my stories w/ in the form of post-apocalyptic mermaids au (what happen when majority of humans leave earth and those left behind returns to the oceans bc i watch a fake nature doc about mermaids which are apparently sea ape and how how all live originate in the sea) or plant au (where the earth is living entity and try to take back the planet w overgrown murderous plants and descend into a world of nature taking REVENGE etc). i also really REALLY like watching doc about history of conquered so that influence my writing a lot lol. so yea, i take inspo in all these media i consumed and turn it into something i want to read. so having all these various interests that are all over the place i dont have a problem jumping from one genre to the next and never really get bored! you can see me talking endlessly about the various media i have consumed (i.e shoujo/shounen/yaoi etc manga/webtoon, asian dramas, games, tv shows) and im always open to new ones too!! being open minded to try out things not in my comfort zone was such a huge help for me and now im like ok that sounds cool i’ll try it lol.

also, i really what i call genre mashing like combining two things that dont usually go together automatically like ??? post apocalyptic mermaids??? the princess bride but steampunk?? OR beauty and the beast au in space?? LIKE all are ideas i have talk huge amount about bc i love putting familiar ideas and throwing it some weird wild settings and just HAVE FUN. if you have something you think been done a millions time before (which is not WRONG AT ALL) just think how you could do it different this time around or look at it in a diff perspective. like, i wrote a hundred arrange marriage royalty au AND I APOLOGETICALLY LOVES THEM and each time im like i already did desert setting so i’ll go for some winter setting this time around; or i’ll make them childhood friends last time, i’ll go for enemies; in other fic i explored theme of duty vs heart, now i want to explore war themes etc so like i dont intentionally try to make it diff but i just think how the story & chars may go if i take on a diff direction and sometimes that little change can have a rippling effect and turn into a whole diff story. so yea, dont be afraid to ask yourself WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF–? bc who knows where it take you!

this also translate to when im reading fanfics of other ppl and I READ A LOT. LIKE A SHIT TON. if im not writing im usually reading something. when im reading other ppl’s fic i get to see their take on certain tropes or how they address certain that i may really like a lot and i want to tackle it on my own but that also lead to if i run into a branch in the story where the author does it certain way but i think myself hmm…. what if this happen the other way and THAT GIVES ME IDEA. like, dont let hold yourself back from reading other fanfics bc you’re afraid you get similar ideas when the whole of fandom is about inspiring each other. inspiration =/= carbon copy. i openly talked about my ideas all the time and not possessive about it bc sometimes ppl would ask me if they can write something base of it and i 99% say yea go ahead bc the way they write it would be diff from how i write it even though it’s the same concept, how i write the chars & the themes may be diff from how they view it. you can HAVE THE SAME IDEA BUT DIFF EXECUTION. that’s the most important part!!! it is not plagiarizing bc seeding an idea is like part of fandom and it becomes trend a lot the way ABO gets around the fandom like wildfire lmao.

last but not least, be THE FIC YOU WANT TO READ. this is why you usually see me starting a conversation w a i really, really LOVE/LIKE etc and ramble away about an idea and how it’ll go. a lot of my stories are a reflection of my interests like how im always talking endlessly about kingdoms, war, and rulers and conquerors bc im just really fascinated by it lmao /o. and there’s also all those single parents fic i wrote bc i deeply empathized with it due my childhood being raised by a single mother. and there are times when things that matter to me i put in my stories, like im hitting my 30s soon and im still single. i think i dont mind being like that but i want to have children so how would that work out?? things that plague me in real life i address in fics in term of surrogacy & sperm donation bc it’s something i consider about wanting a family when you’re single and dont have a partner. every fic or idea i have ever written or talk about you can see my fingerprints all over it bc they’re things i deeply, truly care and am interest about that i want IT TO EXIST IN THE WORLD so i write it out. i algo get really annoyed when im there’s a trend in fandom to take a trope in certain direction and i just dont like it lmao (i.e. villain!deku im more focus on izuku getting his redemption and how & yandere au WHEN THEY ARE EQUALLY CRAZY ABOUT EACH OTHER) so i put my frustration and complaint into a fic. you can see this clearly in a lot of my ABO fics where i tend to put omegas often on top bc that’s just my particular taste. i dont try to buckle trend just to be contrary but i do it when my taste doesn’t match theirs and ya know be the fic you see in the world basically lol. just bc something is popular by the mass doesn’t mean you have to follow it even IF YOU THINK YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO LIKE IT, let assure you’re wrong. there will always be someone who taste clicks with yours OR you can persuade them just by writing a kickass fic and just stand by what they wrote. sometimes, i find myself falling in love with a story i would never consider reading at all bc i dont like the trope or themes just bc the writing is v v v good or the writer CLEARLY LOVE WHAT THEY WROTE THAT THEY PUT THEIR HEART AND SOUL INTO IT and i can see it in their writing and im swayed. so yea, don’t think of putting a new spin on old cliche but try to think of as making it your own by doing it how you WOULD GO AT IT. how would you write the million abo fic? what do you like to see? HISTORICAL, SCIFI, FANTASY? how would you categorized ABO?? go for classic alphas rules society and omegas are lower class? or do the total opposite?? like DON’T FORCE yourself to be diff, just let it come to you and im sure you’ll be able to make it your own bc look there’s like a million fics on ao3 AND EVEN MORE THAN MILLION original novels in real life. you’re not going to invent anything new that had never seen before so dont try be diff but be yourself and soon you’ve have something that is solely your owns and nobody else and that’s the best advice i can give.

a;sjdf;as sorry this is such a incoherent mess but i LOVE, LOVE cliches just as much as i like trope breaking them and it doesnt matter where you fall on the line as long as you can enjoy what you create that’s all that matter! i hope whatever i said help you out a little and lighten your worry just a bit. and thanks for the question bc it really is intrestingl !!!!! and i hope you’re staying safe and please take care bc im doing ok for now lol!!

#Anonymous

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recentanimenews · 4 years

Text

Bookshelf Briefs 9/30/20

Accomplishments of the Duke’s Daughter, Vol. 6 | By Reai and Suki Umemiya | Seven Seas – Another series down to “once a year” release—I had to jog my memory at the start to recall what had been happening. Many things are going wrong for our heroine, who is trying to be strong and tough but is also starting to break down, and I felt that the scenes with her and Dean struck just the right balance of comforting and letting the heroine cry without making her seem weaker. This sets the stage for her comeback, which is extraordinary. (And also has a corrupt Church, a constant in Japanese light novels, though at least here there are also honest and good religious people in it.) That said, eventually Dean’s identity will come out, and I do wonder how this very good “villainess” isekai will handle it. – Sean Gaffney

The Ancient Magus’ Bride: Jack Flash and the Faerie Case Files, Vol. 1 | By Yu Godai, Mako Oikawa, and Kore Yamazaki | Seven Seas – A faerie switched at birth for a human child, Jack never fit in in either world. Only in the mortal realm could she earn money for anime collectibles, however, so she decided to make herself into a tough, capable woman like her literary heroes and set up shop as a detective. Together with her fellow changeling, Larry the werewolf, Jack takes on supernatural cases in New York City. In this volume, Lindel tasks them with tracking down a missing dragon egg. I liked the resources Jack uses to obtain information, which include a dapper theatre ghost and a spell with components of rat whiskers and taxi tires because “Nobody out there knows this city better than them.” I still found this a bit hard to get into, though, especially the parts involving a perpetually tearful off-off-off-off-Broadway actress and her pickpocket boyfriend. Still, I will check out volume two! – Michelle Smith

Black Clover, Vol. 22 | By Yuki Tabata | Viz Media – At long last, this interminable arc comes to an end. I enjoyed a lot of it, but I cannot deny it should have been about two volumes shorter. Most of the book is taken up by shonen battles, with the villain being nigh unkillable, the heroes almost breaking themselves to stop him, etc. Fortunately, the day is saved, and even the Wizard King turns out to be… sort of alive again? Shota fans should be happy. Asta fans perhaps less so—the sheer amount of damage done to the kingdom in this arc means someone has to be blamed, and give Asta has the “dark evil magic” it’s gonna be him, especially when he takes the incredibly obvious bait they use to get him to fight. Oh well, if Asta were smart, this wouldn’t be Black Clover. – Sean Gaffney

Don’t Toy with Me, Miss Nagatoro, Vol. 3 | By Nanashi | Vertical Comics – Part of the problem with titles like this and the other teasing works (Takagi-san less so as Nishikata doesn’t fall into the category) is that they are, at heart, the classic “extroverted girl acts overtly extroverted to bring introverted guy out of their shell,” and that’s not really a plot that feels comfortable in the Gen Z days, where you’re more likely to say “why doesn’t she just let him be in his quiet, safe space?” And by she I mean they, as Nagatoro’s two friends appear far more often here, which offers some good two-way teasing action, as they clearly see her crush on him, if not why. It’s still sort of hard to read, but if you pretend he’s more OK with it than he actually is, this is cute. – Sean Gaffney

Failed Princesses, Vol. 1 | By Ajiichi | Seven Seas – The concept of “popular girl meets unpopular girl” is a common one in yuri manga, and we do indeed hit several of its tropes in this first volume. The amusing thing is that Kanade, the shy outcast girl, is perfectly aware of how things are supposed to go, and keeps pulling back a bit to try to save Nanaki from, well, making herself an outcast by associating with the wrong people. The best part of the volume is that Nanaki really doesn’t give two shits about any of that, and seems set on making Kanade her best friend… and also making her over, which backfires a bit as Kanade cleans up nicely. I hear this gets a bit dramatic later, but for the moment it’s a cute and fluffy proto-yuri story. – Sean Gaffney

In/Spectre, Vol. 12 | By Kyo Shirodaira and Chashiba Katase | Kodansha Comics – The first story in this volume is another “Rikka tries to make people understand Kotoko is an evil Machiavellian schemer,” this time with one of her ex-classmates, but again the response seems to be “we know she’s a manipulative bitch, but she’s a good person anyway.” The larger story, which will continue into the next book, seems to be a chance to write Kuro and Kotoko as an actual romance, as the man we meet here and his relationship with a yuki-onna… as well as his penchant for attracting misfortune… very much parallel them. That said, they’re very cute together, which is why I hope he avoids the murder charge he’s now being investigated for. Still a favorite. – Sean Gaffney

Interviews with Monster Girls, Vol. 8 | By Petos | Kodansha Comics – The author knows what people want to see, but also knows that the best way to get readers is to drive them crazy by not showing it. We finally get what we’ve been begging for here, as Tetsuo asks Sakie out on a date. (This is after rejecting Kyouko’s love confession, both because she’s his student and also, as he is forced to admit, as he likes Sakie.) The stage is set for the date… and the rest of the book is thus spent with the three main student girls going to Kyouko’s for a fireworks viewing and meeting her family. They’re good chapters, and I really liked showing how difficult Kyouko has it as a dullahan in terms of everyday life, but GOD, please get back to the teachers, I beg you! – Sean Gaffney

Kaguya-sama: Love Is War, Vol. 16 | By Aka Akasaka | Viz Media – The series has gotten to the point where the more rewarding chapters are the ones as part of a larger arc. Not that the one-shot chapters are bad—though Maki’s journey to India may be the most pointless thing in this entire series to date, we do get Chika’s iconic “shut up or I’ll kill you” here. But the larger arcs, featuring Miyuki and Kaguya attempting to date without interruptions, and setting up Ishigami and Iino for a romance—though given the number of limbs broken in this book, and Iino’s own horrible lack of self-awareness, it may be a ways out—are better. This series is still hilarious, but we’ve come to read it more for the heartwarming moments. Heck, there’s even some serious drama here. Very good. – Sean Gaffney

Nineteen | By Ancco | Drawn & Quarterly – Although it was translated and released second in English, Nineteen is a precursor to Ancco’s internationally award-winning manhwa Bad Friends. The volume collects thirteen short comics originally published in Korea over a decade ago which absolutely remain relevant to today’s world. While understandably not as polished as some of Ancco’s later work—one can observe her style evolving and growing over the course of the collection (which is fascinating)—the comics still carry significant emotional weight and impact. Nineteen includes diary comics, which tend to be more lighthearted, as well as harder-hitting fictional stories, many of which also have autobiographical inspiration. As a whole, the collection explores themes of young adulthood, growing up, and complicated family relationships. In particular, there is a compelling focus on the relationships among daughters, mothers, and grandmothers. Some of the narratives can be rather bleak, but a resigned sense of humor threads through Nineteen, too. – Ash Brown

Ran the Peerless Beauty, Vol. 8 | By Ammitsu | Kodansha Comics (digital only) – Shoujo manga that has couples getting together BEFORE the end of the series is inevitably going to have an arc dealing with how far the lead couple should go now that they’re dating, and this is Ran’s turn, as she and Akira and their friends go to a beach house Ran’s family owns and have some beach fun. Unfortunately, the cast gets winnowed down one by one until it’s just the two of them… and her overprotective father, who arrives in time to provide the cliffhanger and no doubt ensure that nookie does not ensue. Not that I think it should—these two kids are even purer than the couple from Kimi ni Todoke, and I think they should mature a bit more before going further. Plus, watching them blush and kiss is wonderful. – Sean Gaffney

Spy x Family, Vol. 2 | By Tatsuya Endo | Viz Media – Having spent our first volume establishing that our found family can really come to love each other deep down, this volume shows off how they are also, at heart, fundamentally awkward and unable to socialize normally. This is unsurprising—hints of Loid’s life we’ve seen show him as a war orphan, Yor is a contract killer, and Anya basically grew up being experimented on by bad guys. As the school soon finds, this leads to issues. The second half of the book introduces Yor’s sister-obsessed little brother Yuri, who turns out to be a torture expert for Loid’s enemies. As always, half the fun is that everyone except Anya has no idea who their real selves are, and the cliffhanger tells us we’re in for some hilarious family fun. I love this. – Sean Gaffney

Spy x Family, Vol. 2 | By Tatsuya Endo | VIZ Media – After a brief spell atop the waiting list, Anya officially makes it into Eden Academy. Loid is anxious to progress to the next stage of his mission and, believing there’s not much chance in turning Anya into an elite scholar like his agency wants, focuses instead on having her befriend the younger son of his target. It does not go to plan, of course. Anya is very cute in this volume, and I also really appreciated how Loid genuinely listens to Yor and values her input. The arrival of Yor’s brother, a member of the secret police, is going to be a fun complication, and another cast member with a secret, but my favorite part of this series is probably always going to be how much love these three are already feeling for each other. So unique and good! – Michelle Smith

Sword Art Online: Hollow Realization, Vol. 6 | By Tomo Hirokawa, based on the story by Reki Kawahara | Yen Press – The weakness of this manga is the same as always—it’s written to tie into the games, and features several characters I just don’t recognize, which can be a problem given this is the big final let’s-save-the-world ending. That said, this is still a decent SAO title. Kirito gets to be cool and badass, but because this isn’t written just by Kawahara others do as well, and it’s a nice balanced effort that focuses on heroine Premiere. I also really liked the point where all the NPCs are worried when everyone has to log out for several days for maintenance. While I’ll still remember this as the “SAO only everyone is alive” manga, I enjoyed reading it, when I wasn’t confused. – Sean Gaffney

By: Ash Brown

#Anime #News #Manga Bookshelf

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littlemisssquiggles · 5 years

Text

RWBY Squiggle Scripts #022: “Playing Pretend”

Picture it.

Heroes’ Day Out!

While staying in Atlas, our young heroes of RWBY and the JN(O)R gang decide to take a day off to explore the sights. During their excursion, due to their differing interests, the group decides to split up into four pairs: Ren and Nora, Blake and Yang, Weiss and Jaune and lastly, Ruby and Oscar.

Ruby was really enthusiastic about checking out the Atlesian Delta Mall---a giant shopping precinct within the kingdom that was very popular with the local youths because of its entertainment arena home to an arcade and a giant movie complex among other fun areas.

At first the Rosebuds were happily enjoying themselves. However things turn sour when Oscar gets separated from Ruby while exploring the wall.

During his search for his missing rose, Oscar’s lone trek across the complex leads him to bump into a rather interesting group of people Before Oscar got a chance to even apologize to who he bumped into, he suddenly found himself swarmed on all sides by four girls who practically towered over him.

One girl was a proud blonde by the name of Clementine Pell. Another girl, a brunette with glasses was Naomi Navy. The third girl, a walking body of pink, was Ran Orchid and finally the fourth girl, Yasmine Alba---a red-eyed beauty with long hair as white as snow.

Oscar swallowed nervously as the girls flocked around him. Suddenly he felt like a worm trapped in a cage of hungry canaries.

Clementine: Well what do we have here ladies? Looks like a little prince has lost his way.

Naomi: Ooh you're right Clem! He does look like a prince.

Ran: He’s such a cutie pie. I love his freckles! I can just eat him up!

Yasmine: Quit acting so thirsty Ran. What's your name, sugar pie?

Oscar: *awkwardly* Uh...I---Os---Oscar.

Ran: Ooh Oscar!

Naomi: Like Gold!

Clementine: So you're a golden prince.

Oscar: Uh, if you'll excuse I really need to catch up with my---

Oscar attempted to walk past one of the girls---the snow-haired one---but to his dismay, she snaked her around one of his.

Yasmine: What's the rush, darling?

Ran: Yeah, why don't you come hang out with us?

Clementine: You wouldn't want to refuse the company of four beautiful girls like us now won't you?

Yasmine: Won't you!

Oscar: I...I...

Just when Oscar believed he was a goner, a glimmer of red caught his eyes as Ruby Rose came into view.

Ruby: There you are! I've been looking all over for you.

Oscar: *in relief* Ruby!

Instantly, Oscar wiggled his way out of the snow-haired girl’s grip and joined Ruby at her side. Ruby smiled at Oscar before training her attention on the four girls who eyed her with stern expressions.

The blonde one even got up in Ruby’s face.

Clementine: Excuse me but we saw him first!

Ran: Yeah paws off our little prince!

Ruby: *blinking confusedly* Your little… what now?

She looked at Oscar.

Ruby: Oscar, do you know these girls?

Oscar: No I've never seen them in my life.

Ruby: *frowning crossly* Are they harassing you?

Oscar: I---

Yasmine: He was about to get to know us personally before you butted in.

Naomi: Buzz off!

Ran: Yeah, who do you think you are?

Ruby: Oh where are my manners? The name’s Ruby Rose and…

Ruby draped one arm around Oscar’s shoulder pulling him closer to her with a big beaming smile.

Ruby: I'm his girlfriend!

CNRY: *in unison* What!

Oscar: Wait...what?

Clementine: *hands on hips; appearing skeptical* Funny, you don't seem like his girlfriend.

Yasmine: Yeah like a cutie prince like him would ever date ugly peasant trash like you.

Oscar: *frowning defensively* Hey! Don't talk to her like----

Ruby: It's okay, sweetie. I'll handle this.

Ruby glanced back at the four CNRY girls; the smile on her face now curling into a smirk.

Ruby: So you want proof, you say?

Before Oscar had time to react; the next thing the small farm boy knew, Ruby suddenly closed the space between them and planted her bare lips over his in a kiss.

At first, Oscar was caught off guard by the sudden invasion. His body stiffened at the first out of shock but after a while he slowly felt herself melt into the kiss and it was not long before that he actually started kissing Ruby back.

By the time the two parted, Oscar’s heart was like a drum in his chest. His cheeks were flushed; far more than usual as he just stood staring at Ruby.

He wasn’t the only one. When Ruby returned to the four girls, their faces were a perfect Picasso of astonishment, disappointment and unbridled rage. A masterpiece of human expression that brought the big Chesire-cat smile back to Ruby’s face.

Ruby: *smugly* Proof enough for you ladies? Or do you need more convincing?

Yasmine: *disgustedly* No thank you!

Clementine: Let's go girls. Before I lose my lunch.

Naomi & Ran: Totally!

Whipping their hair, the CNRY girls walked away; finally leave Ruby and Oscar to themselves once more.

Ruby: Phew! That was a close one. Sorry for that. It was the only thing I could think of. But at least they're gone now, right Oscar?

Oscar: ...

Ruby: Oscar?

Ruby faces Oscar; finding him still staring at her.

Ruby: What's with that face!

Oscar: I'm sorry! You...kissed me. You actually kissed me.

Ruby: *defensively* Yeah but it was a fake kiss. To help you with the---

Oscar: *frantically* I know I know! It's just...that was...well...my…

Ruby: …Wait, was that...your first kiss?

Oscar: *awkwardly*...Ye---Yeah. Pretty much, yeah.

Ruby: Oh. Oh no. I’m so sorry!

Oscar: No! No! It's ok. Better you than those girls, right? Besides...it was fine.

Ruby: *taken aback* Fine?

Oscar: As in good. *embarrassed* It’s…not exactly how I pictured our---I mean…my first kiss being but---y’know…

Ruby: *awkwardly*Well...uh...if it's any consolation, it was my first kiss too so…

Oscar: *incredulously* Wait...WHAT! That cannot be your first kiss. How?

Ruby: What do you mean how?

Oscar: I just...I mean I always figured you of all people would have kissed tons of guys before.

Ruby: Excuse me?

Oscar: I don't mean it any bad way. I just...I always figured a beautiful girl like you would have some tall handsome guy or y’know…several guys waiting for you back home in Vale.

Ruby: *snorts* That's…really weird but really sweet of you to assume but...no.

Oscar: *still in disbelief* Really? Not even at Beacon?

Ruby: Well at Beacon I was pretty much the runt of the school. Youngest huntress to be accepted, remember?

Oscar: Yeah but...you're also pretty amazing.

Ruby: *laughingly* Trust me. If you had met me back then, you wouldn't think that.

Oscar: I doubt it. If you were just as cool and kind as you are now, I would've liked you sooner. *jokingly* Y’know beat out all those guys in line for your hand.

Ruby: *giggling* Oh please. I didn't even have a date to the school dance. Me having a line of guys chasing after me. That’s rich!

Oscar: I should've been at Beacon.

Ruby: Why’d you say that?

Oscar: So I could’ve asked you to the dance.

Ruby: *snorts* Pffft! Again, really sweet of you Oscar but… you would’ve been 13. That’s younger than I was.

Oscar: *smiling* So? I'd still ask you.

Ruby: *blushing slightly* Well tell you what? If there's ever another dance, you'd be my first choice for my date.

Oscar: *grinning* I'm going to hold you to that. It’s a date. And…uh… speaking of dates…

Oscar took Ruby’s hand, looking at her warmly.

Oscar: Ms. Rose, would you do me the honour of going on a date with me right now?

Ruby:*snickering* Do me the honour?

Oscar: *embarrassedly* What? Tha---That’s how the guys asked out the girls back home. It’s a farm folk custom!

Ruby:*laughing* You’re not serious!

Oscar: *huffily* It is! You Valerian city girls just don’t know common courtesy.

Ruby: *teasingly* Jokes on you, I’m a Patch girl, born and raised. Besides I meant about the date thing. You’re not serious about that, right?

Oscar: Actually I am. We still have a couple hours to kill before we meet back up with the others, right? And…there’s a perfectly good movie theatre right over there that’s showing all three Grimm Samurais movies with a food court that gives out free popcorn to couples. Besides I think those crazy girls from before might still be lurking around. You mind playing my girlfriend for a few more hours?

Ruby: *excitedly* You had me at Grimm Samurais! Let’s go!

Oscar: *grinning* After you, snookums.

Ruby gave Oscar a weird look; brows raised. Oscar blushed.

Oscar: *defensively* What? It---It’s part of the pretend.

Ruby: Y’know what’s also part of the pretend. You paying for me.

Oscar: What!

Ruby: Now c’mon Oscar, what kind of pretend boyfriend would you be if you didn’t treat your cute pretend girlfriend to our pretend movie date? Isn’t that right pumpkin?

Oscar: *pouting* I’m going to pretend dump you.

Ruby: Can’t cause you’re pretend madly in love with me!

Ruby sticks out her tongue at Oscar playfully before skipping off before he could say anything else. Oscar only shook his head as he only stared after the Silver eyed huntress. He then sighed dreamily.

‘…Or maybe I’m just in love with you for real…’ Oscar thought; an affectionate smile already tugging at his lips. With that, the young farm boy caught up to Ruby; taking her hand in his again as she in turn beamed brightly and tugged him forward in eager excitement, as the two rosebuds entered the mall theater together.

And scene.

Squiggly Scriptwriter’s Commentary:

This has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and I didn’t realize how adorkably cheesy this was until I finished editing it. So much cheese. Hope no one reading is lactose intolerant.

This spawned from the random idea of what if… Ruby fake-out made out with Oscar to get him out of a sticky scenario with a group of fangirls. I quite like the romance trope of the fated pair fake kissing each other for show only for their real feelings to surface later in the plot.

I was planning on releasing this script earlier but…y’know busy bug syndrome got in the way. It wasn’t until I saw @blackhakumen beat me to the punch with his own version of the “playing pretend” trope for Rosegarden, that I finally figured it’s about time I finished this. You can almost say his work gave me the push to finally wrap this up! Thanks for the motivation boast with your script Black. If you haven’t, check out Mini Fanfic #64: My Boyfriend by Blackhakumen.

I haven’t written anything this cheesy for Rosegarden since my ‘A-Dork You!’ RWBY Squiggle Script. Good times. I still love that script.

A special thank you bunches of oats to my fellow Garden Rosebud @miki-13 for loaning me their lovely OCs who cameoed in this script.

The CNRY girls are from Miki’s RWBY fanfic---‘Reconciliation’. If you haven’t already checked it out, I’d definitely recommend it to you guys. It’s a fantastic read that not only tells an excellent interpretive follow-up from the events of V6 but it also includes an original cast of interesting characters. Seriously check it out.

I hope you didn’t mind the cameo Miki. When I first thought up this script, I was originally going to go with a random character but then I remembered your CNRY girls. Sorry if me borrowing them was for something as cheesy as this. The CNRY girls served their part well. I just hope I did your girls justice here.

More RWBY Squiggles Scripts

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

#rwby #oscar pine #ruby rose #oscar and ruby #rwby rosegarden #rwby rosebuds #squiggles scripts: rwby

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 5 years

Text

Sparks Fly (2/?)

A/N What am I doing? I have no idea. But Thor, though. Um, Madoc is evil, Thor is hot, and you think he’s trying to kill you

Thor stood at the fireplace, leaning on the mantle. The hearth was cold, but it gave him a moment to gather his thoughts. The delegation from Fairy was arriving today with you in tow. The wedding was a month away, but Thor had managed to convince Madoc that giving you a month to adjust to being in a new kingdom would help you to ease the transition. As such, several of the Avengers had come to help him ensure your safety while you were there. He could feel the expectant stares as they waited to be told what to do, and he sighed, “I don’t trust this King of Fears,” he said finally, “I don’t trust his intentions, and I don’t trust that he won’t kill her while she’s here to make sure Asgard takes the fall.” Natasha snorted, “This all seems like a lot of work for a political alliance,” she said. Thor turned to face the spy and smiled a little, “Perhaps,” he said, “But I cannot just leave the poor girl to rot in that place. Even if it isn’t love, for her to have survived this long, she can at the very least be diplomatic. There could be worse matches.” Bruce nodded, “It doesn’t hurt that she’s pretty.” Natasha smirked, “Now it makes sense,” she teased, smacking Bruce’s arm.

Steve stood and sighed, “We all have our assignments. Natasha, Wanda, Carol, you three are going to situate yourselves in her household. Bucky, Peter, Loki, eyes, and ears. I don’t want Madoc to breathe without us knowing about it. Sam, Rocket, and I are going to run interference. No one gets to the Princess, not a message, not a gift, not a nothing unless it comes from one of us.” Valkyrie nodded, her job was to watch Thor, but that went without saying. She thought this was stupid and dangerous, but the way Thor looked when he thought of you was enough to make her hold her tongue. The poor man was in love, and he didn’t even realize it yet.

Thor felt his heart race when he saw the banners on the hill. He looked for you and found you, your petite frame and red hair side saddle on your white stag. “I think I’m going to be sick,” Thor said swallowing hard. Rocket rolled his eyes, and Loki laughed, “And you didn’t even want to go to Fairy,” he mocked. Thor scowled but said nothing. Punching Loki in the mouth wouldn’t actually stop him talking, and he had a feeling it might give you the wrong impression of his temper. There are horns and drums, fanfare befitting a future queen. Children hold flowers out to you, and you accept them with smiles and musical laughter. It pierces Thor to his core. He’s never heard you laugh before and he’d give anything to keep hearing it. Thor moves forward to help you off the Stag, willing his hands not to tremble as he sets them on your waist.

You smile at him shyly, not quite meeting his eyes and blushing prettily. Thor lets you go when he’s sure of your footing, and you curtsey, “Thank you, my lord,” you say formally, “Your kingdom is beautiful.” You mean it. It feels so open and bright after Madoc’s keep that you could cry. It almost feels like the Forests of Sighs. Somewhere you barely remember in dreams. Thor smiles at you and tucks a stray lock of your hair behind your ear, “I think, under the circumstances, you might call me Thor,” he murmured. You look up at him, briefly and chance enjoying the feel of his fingers brushing the side of your face, closing your eyes and leaning into the touch. Or starting to before a prim cough behind you reminds you to pull away.

Thor swallows hard and turns, tucking your hand into the crook of his arms, presenting you properly to his people and his household. He tucks Carol, Natasha, and Wanda into your household by telling you gently that he thought to have human ladies in waiting might help you to adjust to being in the human world. You smile at them and thank them for their assistance and any resistance they might have had, melts. You look like a deer about to bolt under your polite smile and wide golden eyes. The Stag you rode in on hovers close to your other side and seems to be taking a measure of the assembled people. He makes a soft noise, and you turn, patting his nose. “Thank you, old friend.” You say softly, kissing his forehead.

The Stag closes his eyes, and you rest your forehead on him for just a second, silently listening to what he had to say. Thor watched unsure what to do until a moment later, when you look up and chuckle, “Wicked thing,” you admonish, “Behave in the stable.” You hand the reins to a waiting groom and Declan follows him. You turn, blushing slightly, “My apologies.” You murmur. “Declan does not like to be kept waiting when he has something to say.” Thor smiled a little, “He speaks to you?” You bite your lip thoughtfully, “After a fashion. He doesn’t use anything as primitive as words.” Thor tucked your hand back in the crook of his arm, “And what did he have to say, my lady?” You blush and smile, “He bid me to tell you that he’s excited to explore the woods and that he is glad that you are giving me a welcome that befits The House of Story and Song. He was afraid you would remember that I am also the would be Queen of the Forests of Sighs.” Thor laughed, a booming belly laugh that made you start. “I am glad he approves, I do not think I would like to meet those horns if he disapproved.” Thor raised your soft hand to his lips, making you blush and surrendered you to Natasha, asking her to show you to your rooms.

You follow Natasha quietly, keeping your eyes open, assessing every move the ladies made to make a plan. The way they flanked you felt like Madoc’s guards and the thought made you shiver reflexively. They weren’t even here, and you felt their hands on you, and you could smell their rancid breath. You swallow hard, clasping your hands together to hide the tremble in your fingers. Thor might have promised you a home, but there was no binding hospitality vow here. The only thing that had offered you any protection with Madoc had no power here, and you feel sick. Natasha opens the door to your rooms for you and steps back so you can inspect them. They are small but cozy. Serviceable. Not so cold and unwelcoming as your old rooms in Madoc’s keep. The ladies seem unsure of what to do and your neck prickles in trepidation. You smile anyway, “Please, sit. Make yourselves comfortable. I shall try not to make too much of a fuss.” They smile at you and set about finding things to do with themselves. You wander over to the instruments that someone had laid carefully along the wall for you. It had been a long time since you were allowed to use the gifts of your house and you bite your lip, unsure if they were there for you to use or if they were a trap. Madoc had long ago forbidden you from playing, singing, or telling tales and you itch to touch the strings of the harp. The instrument calls out to you like a siren. You reach out cautiously, fingers inches away. You can feel the call to play as clearly as you can feel the beat of your heart. If this is a trap, it is cruel. You pull your hand away and close your eyes, chastising yourself. Madoc could have eyes anywhere. Any disobedience means your people will suffer and no song is worth that.

Natasha and Carol watch the longing in your face as you look at the instruments Thor had painstakingly selected for you and Carol clears her throat, “Your Majesty, will you play for us?” she asked. “I am only a highness,” you correct, thankful you had not touched the harp, “and I cannot play.” It wasn’t a lie, not really. As a fey, even a half breed, you could not lie. “The Princess of story and song cannot play?” Wanda asked incredulously. You say nothing. You do not have to answer them, and silence can be a shield all its own. You turn to the window chastising yourself harshly. The silence stretches on, the knot in your stomach twisting tighter every moment. The knock on the door is a relief. It makes you turn so quickly Natasha reaches out to catch you if you topple over. “Enter,” you say, your voice sharper than you intend it to be and you wince. “Please,” you add in a much gentler tone. Rocket stands in the doorway, “Her Highness is wanted in the Throne room,” he says, “The lunkhead wants to speak with her.” He offers you a hand to take being too small to provide you with his arm and you take it, “Thank you,” she said, “I’m afraid I do not know the way.” Rocket pats your hand, something in you gentles him, “I’ll lead you, Princess.” You smile your thanks politely, and he leads you down the hall. You are quiet, and so Rocket stays quiet. He can hear the way your heart is pounding, and for once, he chooses not to make it worse. At the large oak doors to the Throne room, Rocket pats your hand, “Thor is waiting for you,” he said, sketching an awkward bow. Thor had tried to teach them all how to behave with you, but the lessons had been hurried and too full of jokes for any of them to learn much more than a few basic manners. They’d all gotten so used to seeing Thor as a friend that none of them could see him as a king. Meeting you up close made it all weird. They weren’t sure how to address him when you were near, though, so far as they had seen, you seemed to just accept things as they were.

You took a deep breath and gestured for the guards to open the door. If you were about to die, you wanted it over with quickly. They complied, and you walk through, feet bare and silent on the flagstones. “Your majesty,” you say quietly, dropping into a curtsey. Thor tried to raise you, and you stayed still, “Your Majesty, I only ask that if you kill me, you kill me quickly and send my body home.” Thor stopped dead in his tracks and dropped his hands from your shoulders, watching silent tears his the flagstones for a moment. “Please, don’t send my body to Madoc for him to disgrace,” you plead. Thor swallows hard and holds out his hands to you, “Y/N,” he says quietly, “I’m not going to kill you. I’d sooner stab myself through the heart than raise a hand to you.” When you don’t move his heart cracks for you. You’ve been so strong for so long that you just can’t believe anything could ever change. “Please, sweetheart,” he tries his voice hardly a whisper, “Come and sit with me. Let me explain. When I promised you a home, I meant it.” It was his endearment that made you look up. It had been so long since anyone was kind to you. “Take my hands and come sit with me a while,” he said, “I have much to tell you.” You hesitate for a moment but take the hand he offered you. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, leading you to the small dinner he had laid out to give you time to talk to him. He pauses at the chair he holds for you and cups your cheek in his hands, wiping away tears with his thumbs. You close your eyes and freeze.

He’s warm, and his hands are gentle. It’s been a long time since anyone has touched you gently. Thor can read your history in your face. In your freeze and the conflicting feelings that practically radiate out of you. At that moment, he decides that you are his. He can’t abide anyone else touching you. He can’t sleep at night if your golden eyes aren’t the first thing he sees in the morning. He sits on the chair and holds his arms out to you, forgetting for a moment that he’s self-conscious of his belly and the softness of his chest and thighs, “Come here, sweetheart?” he asks softly. He desperately wants to hold you. To murmur his plans in your ear and give you a safe place to hide against his shoulder. After what feels like forever you take his hand and he pulls you gently into his lap, cuddling you close. Once he has you, firmly but gently in his arms, your head cradled on his shoulder against his neck, you sigh, and Thor chuckles softly. “That’s it, my love. Just let me hold you awhile.” He traces nonsense patterns against the back of your neck, and you close your eyes, nestling into him, resting a hand on the swell of his stomach. Thor feels himself blush, instantly remembering how embarrassed he is of his body. He wants to stand up. He wants to order you off of him but he just… I can’t. Your softness and the feel of your hair against his cheek, your need to simply be held properly, keep him glued to the spot.

When he recovers his voice, he murmurs his plans in your ear, trying to reassure you. He tells you about Nat, Carol, and Wanda. He tells you about what they plan for Madoc. He tells you everything. When you pull away to look at him, he loosens his grip. Your eyes are severe and a darker shade of gold in the firelight, “What happens if we fail?” you ask softly. Thor smiles a little and touches the hardened lines of your jaw, “Failure is not an option, sweetheart. We will not fail.” He wants to kiss you. Your lips look as plump and delicious as the rest of you. The vibrant autumnal colors of your features are complemented by the ripe fullness of your figure and the earnestness in your eyes is stoking a fire in his chest that had long been going cold. He can feel some of his powers coming to the surface unbidden and stomps them down when he sees you start to lean into him. He’s never had to use his skills that way before, and he won’t start with you. You’ll come to his bed of your own accord or not at all.

You’re his Queen, and he won’t dishonor you by taking you on a chair in his throne room. You lean back, confusion in your eyes for a moment and then discomfort when you realize what had just happened. Thor lets you up, helping you gently off his lap, “Dinner is getting cold,” he said cheeks coloring. He settles you in your chair and pushes it in gently before taking his own seat. You serve yourself carefully. Fresh fruit and a few vegetables but none of the other dishes and Thor frowns, “Is none of this to your liking?” he asked concerned. “I cannot abide food cooked in iron,” you say shrugging. Thor winces, “I’m so sorry. I thought that your half-blood status might change that.” You shake your head, “I am afraid not, the iron would burn my throat terribly.” Thor stands, “Allow me to have them make you something you can eat darling. You need not subsist on fruit and some carrots.” You shake your head, “Fortunately I am not hungry,” you murmur. It was true. Your nerves were frayed to breaking, and you felt raw and sore. Thor sat back down, nodding. “Very well, sweetheart. But I will make other provisions for you tomorrow,” he said, “I will not have you going hungry because I made an assumption… Please. This is your home. Tell the kitchens your likes and dislikes. Anything that is here is yours to use; however, you wish.” He bit his tongue to avoid saying, “Myself included,” he really needed to keep himself in check. You were not some courtier he meant to bed. You were to be his true wife and you deserved a soft bed and gentleness. Regardless of what desires you stoked in him.

“Are the instruments in my room a trap?” you ask so quietly that the god takes an extra beat to answer. “No, sweetheart. Those are for you. Madoc’s strictures hold no power here. Whatever he had forbidden you he cannot use to hurt you. Or your people.” You do cry then earnest tears of joy. It had been so long since you had used your powers that you feared they had abandoned you. Thor does not move to hold you but he does ask someone to bring you your harp, anxious to chafe the life back into you, anxious to give you the will to fight again. His research had told him much. Your mother’s council, though disbanded had been trying to keep the forests alive. Trying to keep a throne for you to come back to. They had sent the instruments and the god was ready to hear you play. Even on Asgard, they had heard of your house and he had long wondered what of the stories were true. He smiled as you took your place, head bent and eyes closed.

He smiled until you started to play. Even after 12 years, the call to the strings was strong and you played with such emotion and intensity that Thor’s own meal sat forgotten. He wept at the soaring highs and the darkest lows. You were telling him a story. A story that had no words but painted a picture with such intensity that the whole of his household could feel it. They were drawn to the throne room, standing in mute awe as you played until the very last note. Tears fell all around and the applause startled you out of your reverie, a mix of emotions on your face. You looked to your betrothed, biting your lip as if you expected retribution and Thor only beamed at you, “Well done, my love.” he murmured, crossing the room to kiss your hands only to see your fingers bleeding. He gasped and tilted your chin up gently looking for an answer, “I guess I lost my callouses,” you say, blushing slightly.

Tag list:

@lancsnerd @fatheadtheroger @ultramagicaltacofandom

#thor x reader #thor x you #thor imagine #rocket raccoon #thor odinson #i like fairies #and thor #so there #thicc thor is bae #thicc thor #chubby reader

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ice-cream-beat · 5 years

Text

Tales of Zestiria Perfect Guide: Sorey

This is the first of my translations from the Perfect Guide. I plan to do the rest of the party’s character pages, as well as some other sections I found interesting, and I intend to do the World Guidance book later on, too.

Contains major game spoilers!

"I want to explore the world's ruins, because I believe the answer to humans and seraphim happily coexisting can be found in ancient times.”

Stats

Sex: Male

Height: 175cm (5’9”)

First-person pronoun: Ore

True name: ---

Race: human

Weapon: one-handed ceremonial sword

Hometown: Elysia, village of the seraphim

Bio

A young man raised by seraphim, beings who govern nature. He’s been familiar with the archaeological book "the Celestial Record" from an early age, and desires to explore ancient ruins and the history behind them. In the wake of an archaeological expedition, he travels in search of a world in which humans and seraphim can live together, and becomes the Shepherd depicted in the legends of the Celestial Record. He ultimately overcomes the obstacles presented by the country’s people and becomes their unifying force.

Concept art notes

Under the Mantle: Inner Garments Beneath the Shepherd's costume are Sorey's everyday clothes, including his familiar blue dress shirt. His cuffs are integrated with a belt for attaching gloves, making it perfectly suited for a long trip.

Ceremonial Sword It was said he discovered it in the Mabinogio Ruins, a ceremonial sword left behind by a previous Shepherd. The blade's beautiful pattern is known as the Shepherd's trademark. The hilt’s accent is the same as the one on his ears, a favorite feather decoration used as an ornament.

Timeline

Encounter in the ruins: Protected beneath the forest of the seraphim are the Mabinogio Ruins, where Sorey rescued a female knight named Alisha. He was delighted and excited to meet a human like himself for the first time in his life, who also happened to be familiar with the Celestial Record. Having seraphim as his foster parents, he dreamed of seraphim and humans coexisting as they did in ancient times. He would later aim to save Alisha's life once again by journeying to the world below. Quote: "I can't turn away a person in need. That's all!"

Birth of the Shepherd: In the royal capital of Ladylake, the church held a ceremony known as the Sacred Blade Festival that imitated the legend of the Shepherd. However, a riot broke out among the people as part of a conspiracy against Alisha, and hellions materialized and filled the place. Sorey, who happened to be present, wanted wholeheartedly to protect the people, and so he became the vessel of Lailah, the seraph dwelling in the sacred sword, and commendably quelled the hellions as the Shepherd. Quote: "I offer this body as your vessel, and accept fate's burden!"

On my own two feet: Bartlow, a councilor of the Kingdom of Hyland, sought to weaken Alisha's influence by winning Sorey over to his political party. Outwardly, he asked Sorey to dine with him, but in reality it was a means of coercing him. Bartlow selfishly saw the Shepherd's existence as a playing piece for politics and made light of his own country's princess, but Sorey saw through his plan and turned his back on the palace with a calm farewell. Quote: "I'll fulfill my dreams myself. Mine, and Alisha's."

Fated to be shunned: Famine and natural disaster. As a means of helping the people, who were unaware that these were the effects of hellions or how to solve them, Sorey built a bridge foundation in the raging river. But the source of his power were the seraphim, who couldn’t be seen by normal humans, and his strange abilities were seen as nothing more than heresy. However, Sorey did his best to help and to face the situation cheerfully. Quote: "I have to get used to it from now on. I'll use this power, even in the eyes of the people."

The one who tears up the battlefield: "Conspiring with the Shepherd and the enemy nation of Rolance to incite the people” -- to set his trap, Bartlow had Alisha arrested under these charges. Using her as a shield, he forced Sorey to take part in a military conflict. Should the mighty power of the Shepherd be used for war, it would surely lead to calamity, but for the sake of his dear friend, Sorey stifled his anger and distress and used his power. Quote: "What I need to do hasn't changed. No matter whose battlefield this is!"

Determined to save: During Sorey's journey as the Shepherd, the wandering seraph Zaveid stood in his way multiple times. He denied the Shepherd's mission to purify hellions, and sought to kill them in retaliation for harming humans and seraphim. As if to crush Sorey's spirit, Zaveid challenged him to battle again. But Sorey said with confidence that he wouldn’t give up on his path, because he wanted to save the souls of the humans and seraphim who turned into hellions. Quote: "You don’t need to kill hellions when we can purify them! That’s why...!"

Shedding light on the past: The relationship between the previous Shepherd, who died around 20 years ago, and Heldalf, a victim of the calamity. Discovering that the present calamity’s origin was tied to the tragic meeting of those two, Sorey wished not to destroy calamity, but to save Heldalf. His dream of seeing humans and seraphim coexist as in the days of the Celestial Record would never come true as long as despair and ruin threatened the world. Quote: "...I want to save Heldalf."

Confronting a dragon: In a battlefield filled with malevolence and negativity, a dragon was born as part of Heldalf’s scheme. Humans have never been able to contend with such overwhelming power, and yet Sorey’s group endlessly fought on. Their spirit moved the hearts of the quarreling Hyland and Rolance soldiers, and was successful in connecting the people through hope. Quote: “We’re going to live!”

To save the world: Symmone identified with Heldalf and worked as his subordinate from the shadows. She suffered from her work and said that a life that endangered others meant nothing in the world, and that such an existence could have no redemption except through death. She used illusions to hurt and manipulate people’s hearts, but Sorey defeated them and reached out to her, saying that happiness isn’t limited to certain people, or to good or evil. Quote: “I’ll definitely find a way for everyone to be happy!”

The pure one free of malevolence: With Maotelus, one of the Five Lords, transformed into a hellion and under his control, Heldalf attempted to corrupt Sorey with malevolence by harming his foster parent, Zenrus. Believing that death was the only way to save him, Sorey thrust his sword into his own parent. Even as he wailed, he took up his sword again. The Shepherd’s desire to purify the world was a force stronger than malevolence. Quote: “This… this is just… something I must do!”

#tales of zestiria #sorey #jay translates #that last paragraph hurt #f a m i l y f e e l s #tales of zestiria: perfect guide #his world guidance entry will be cake after this one sheesh

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machihunnicutt · 5 years

Text

These Things Happen To Other People (They Don’t Happen At All)

(Or read on ao3.)

1: Barry

Barry was always noticing Lup. He noticed the sly glint in her eye and sideways smile she gave him the day he first met her at IPRE. He noticed how strong her grip was when she shook his hand, and that her nails were painted purple and matched her twin brother’s.

At the press conference, before they left in the Starblaster, he noticed how her knee bounced under the table. Up and down and up and down while Davenport fielded questions. He noticed that when she stood to answer questions of her own she put her hands on her hips and planted her feet. She held the mic with all the confidence in the world. Barry thought, then, that maybe there were two Lups: the one who grinned brighter than the spells she cast and called him a nerd, and the Lup who was made quiet by fear, or expectation, the Lup who put a steadying hand on Taako’s shoulder when one of their co-workers riled him up, the Lup who took a moment to collect herself after the journalists were gone, before she gave Magnus a high five and followed the others to the bar.

When it became clear that they would have to fight, every day, in every plane, year after year to stop the Hunger and protect the light, the list of things Barry noticed about Lup grew.

She hummed when she cooked.

She had absolutely illegible handwriting.

She was usually the last person on the ship to go to bed. He’d find her hunched over a book or rehearsing spells in the latest, stillest hours of the night.

“Lup?”

She startled, for a second, before he saw her shoulders relax. She was at the kitchen table, her legs folded under her as she stared at a map.

“Hi, Barry,” she said, voice hushed and weary. “I’m just—“ she trailed off and he watched her eyes flicker over his form in the doorway. He’d just come for a glass of water. His hair was mussed and he’d traded his jeans for pajamas.

“It’s taking awhile to find the light this time,” she said. “All the places it could be keep buzzing around in my head. Can’t sleep.”

He nodded. “It’s early though. We’ll find it.”

“I know,” she said with a smile that looked like it was more to comfort him than something genuine. “I’m not underestimating my own brilliance. Or yours for that matter.”

“I’m not brilliant,” Barry said. He felt his face heating up. He hoped Lup wouldn’t see, but then he remembered she had night vision.

“You are,” she said, easy, nonchalant, and turned back to her work. “I’ll go to bed soon. Don’t worry,” she said, glancing up at him once more. “Goodnight, Barry.”

“Goodnight Lup.” He said. He wanted to say he thought she was the most brilliant person he’d ever met. But he didn’t.

Barry noticed that Lup took her coffee black, but always remembered to bring him cream and sugar when they were working together.

He noticed that they were working together more often now. It was cycle 15. Fifteen years that felt at once like no time at all and also impossibly long. He hadn’t gotten used to looking at himself in the mirror and seeing the same face that had boarded the Starblaster on day one. Sure, each cycle made them different, changed them. Barry was learning to love scars and bruises because they meant change. If his face was roughed up early in a cycle he savored it: a point of aesthetic newness that disappeared when the year was up.

Lup, Barry noticed, looked different in every cycle. She’d try new hairstyles and colors, intricate braids and buns and in some instances shaving her head entirely. She’d try different clothes: long flowing skirts, fitted tops that showed off her tanned and freckled shoulders, artfully ripped t-shirts beneath her IPRE jacket and robe. She always looked like Lup, though. Beautiful and strong and singular. She looked so much like her brother, but Barry had had nearly 15 cycles to count their differences, to memorize her face and all its minute changes, the things that reset each year and reminded them all of the people they’d been when they began.

The world of cycle 15 was a dense jungle. The people lived in the thick of it, in vast hidden kingdoms that Lup, Taako, and Lucretia had explored with some basic spells for clearing brush and dispelling camouflage. Lup was sitting on the deck of the Starblaster, staring out at the sun setting over an expanse of green. Barry sat down beside her.

“Lucretia has been talking to some of the locals,” Lup said, glancing over at him. As of late he felt like they were always in the midst of one big, yearlong conversation. Lup would pick up topics and Barry would know what she was saying instantly. Sometimes they could speak without speaking at all. “You know that they have millions of plant species here? And hundreds of thousands have been catalogued and studied. They know so much.”

“Wouldn’t that be amazing,” Barry said, trying not to sound too grim. It was a tough year. Most of the time he was too tired to distinguish the plethora of plants in front of him.

“Wanna hear something crazy, Barry?”

“Sure,” he said, caught off guard for a moment by the way she said his name, softer than she usually said it.

“Lucretia told me that the people here worship these gods who are prophesied to exist in constant states of rebirth and—“ She gestured vaguely with her hand, a loose circular motion. “Time isn’t linear for them. It’s a circle, a constant loop and sometimes it twists and turns, like animal tracks or ocean waves, they say. And they worship these gods because they believe that living like that, ageless, formless, with no purpose or certainty—or maybe it’s hyper-certainty somewhere in all that time—is divine. You know who that sounds like? Those gods?”

“Us,” Barry said. Lup’s eyes were wide and expectant.

“It’s just crazy. I get it, but it’s crazy being here. Doing this. Do you think about death,

Barry?”

“Sometimes,” he said. He hadn’t died in a cycle yet, Lup had and Magnus and Davenport. And each time it happened, though he knew it was only temporary, it emptied everything out of him, all the fight, all the joy, and he felt numb until they were allowed to begin again.

“Elves live long lives,” Lup said. “Longer than humans. But death still means something. Not like now. In this plane they think beings like us are divine. But how can we be divine if we can’t stop it? We’ve had 14 tries already and it doesn’t feel like we’re any closer. It doesn’t feel like I know anything more than when I started.”

“Lup...” She was looking out at the landscape, her jaw clenched and head held high.

“And sometimes I just don’t care,” she said. She looked over at him, and his heart spasmed in his chest when she grinned. “Sometimes I love being here anyway, with everyone,” she said. “With you.”

“We aren’t as lost as when we started,” Barry said. “We’re getting closer.” He wanted to reach out and take her hand, to touch her and prove that they weren’t formless or purposeless or anything other than flesh and blood and breath and emotion that seemed to seep out of him on some days and burn within on others. But he didn’t. He just watched her nod, slowly, like maybe she believed him.

But what did Barry know, anyway.

In the ensuing cycles, Barry noticed himself falling completely and devastatingly in love with Lup. At first he tried to ignore it. He convinced himself that he loved everyone aboard the Starblaster in the same way. Lup was his friend, his dear friend who he’d die for, and had, at that point.

But it wasn’t the same.

***

And then it was cycle 47, and they were at the conservatory.

“What should we make?” Lup asked him. The rest of the group had splintered off to make their own offerings to the light of creation. Truthfully, Barry thought he’d be on his own too. He was already dreading the prospect of making something beautiful and creative. He was good with magic, sure, but it was always about survival. The light wanted art, and he wasn’t sure he could manage that.

“I’ve played the violin,” Lup said. “A bit, back when Taako and I were on the road.”

“Oh,” Barry said. He was never quite sure how to proceed in conversations regarding her past. He didn’t want to touch a nerve or say something he shouldn’t. And sometimes he was certain she made up things about her life to trick him. She didn’t, would never, but it still felt that way.

“I wanted to make myself as useful and versatile as possible,” she said. “That was why. I wasn’t very good, for that reason. I wasn’t playing because I loved to; I was playing because I was afraid.”

“Of what?” Barry asked.

She shrugged. “Losing everything. Being on our own again. Taako and I always managed, but it was never easy.”

She ran a hand through her hair (long in this plane, loosely curled and deep brown) and shook her head. “I want the music to feel different now.”

“Should we write a song then? I could—I mean I’ve always wanted to learn the piano,” he said.

“You have?” She said, suddenly playful, eyebrows raised. “Well, I would very much like to hear that, Barold.”

“We only have a year,” he said.

“I think we can do it anyway,” she said, and she put her hand on his knee.

He’d known for awhile now, that Lup had become everything to him. He knew it when she smiled at him from across the room and when she sacrificed herself time and time again to protect the fragile worlds they still didn’t know how to rescue. He knew it when she took the lead in their search, her magic prowess increasing with every passing year (and it had been many years). He knew it when she took his face in her hands, gently wiping away tears when he felt like everything inside him was crumbling.

Lup had become everything.

This cycle moved in slow motion. Every practice, late into the night and the early hours of morning, passed in a dream. Each time Lup played something and then began again felt careful and necessary. She sat next to him sometimes, when he was at the piano and she was too tired to hold up her violin, and she just watched him play slow scales.

“Are you ready?”

Barry was in the kitchen, washing dishes. He looked up and saw Taako in the doorway. He had his arms crossed and was leaning on the door frame.

Barry shrugged. The ceremony was tomorrow. They’d done everything they could. “Maybe I am. I believe in Lup.”

Taako nodded. “You know, Barold, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

“Is that from your book?”

“That’s confidential. But do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

“Maybe?” Barry said.

Taako sighed. “Look, man. It has been literally 47 years. I know they say not to kiss and tell but this is a bit extreme.”

“We haven’t...Lup and I aren’t...”

“Well then get on it, my man. Life’s too short.”

“Is that also in the book?”

“You two play your little song and I’ll show you what’s in my incredibly brilliant book.”

Barry sighed. “I just...she’s...I don’t know. If something goes wrong it’s not as if I can hide from her. Who knows how long we’ll have to keep doing this and—“

“Barry, you’re my friend so I’ll be honest with you. Literally everything about this mission so far has gone wrong. Everything. We’ve made so many mistakes. And we’re learning, of course, but everything is still hard and bad a lot of the time.”

Taako rubbed his temples, like the sheer exhaustion of his existence was hitting him all at once. “And still, in all of that, you and Lup loving each other makes perfect sense to me. Everything else is on some goddamn shaky ground.”

“Well...thanks, Taako,” Barry said. “I’ll try my best.”

***

“You look nervous,” Barry said. He was so accustomed to the feeling himself that he laughed when she rolled her eyes at him.

“Thanks for noticing,” she said. “You look nervous too.”

She gripped her bow tightly and stood in a wide-legged, firmly grounded posture he’d seen so often it was becoming a cliche. This time, though, she was in a crimson dress that fell just past her knees, with matching heels that had her towering above him. They were next. Magnus had just presented his duck. The audience was applauding wildly and then they were dead silent.

And then the audience disappeared, or at least it felt like they did because all Barry could see was Lup. He’d spent weeks memorizing his part; the learning and the writing and the keeping in time with Lup were hard, but somehow the home stretch, the committing of a handful of notes to memory was the most difficult step.

He practiced alone, in the end, because watching Lup threw him off. Every stumble, every wrong note, every movement that built to nowhere was because he was watching her and forgetting his own part. Lup’s playing was a new kind of magic, separated entirely from the magic she used to save them, nothing like the flames that rose from her hands and yet exactly the same in passion, in feeling, in the warmth the radiated from her as her bow glided over strings, as her fingers moved fluidly and deftly.

And so when they had arrived, just the two of them on stage, the audience an invisible, prickling force, Barry put his hands on the piano keys and realized the song was there in his brain, his fingertips, and all he could do now was watch Lup.

It was a blur, the next moments. Lup had her eyes closed. Her whole body moved with the music, a gentle sway that seemed dizzying from his angle. Her silhouette cut against the sky. The sun was just starting to set: one sun, on this plane, the clouds a mess of deep purples and blues. When she played her last note, Barry held his breath.

She opened her eyes and looked over at him. He knew that they’d done it. The world came back in, around them, and the applause was deafening. And they stood and bowed and Lup laughed and her hand was in his and she didn’t let go.

So he didn’t either.

“Barry,” she said. “Do you wanna go talk somewhere for awhile?”

“Sure.”

2: Lup

Lup noticed Barry sometimes. In all fairness, there was a lot happening on the Starblaster. There was a seemingly infinite multiverse of worlds to save, unfathomable energy to protect, and a bastard of an all-consuming evil entity out to get them and everything in their path.

Still, Lup never thought of her life’s story as a tragedy. She didn’t think it was a romance either.

“I’m not good at talking in front of a lot of people,” Barry said, wringing his hands. The press conference was about to begin.

“It’ll be alright, buddy,” Magnus said at the same time as Taako said “Wow, Barry I never would have guessed,” in his particular sarcastic lilt that made her smile but also feel a little bad for the very nervous Barry who’d taken off his glasses and was now cleaning them frantically with the sleeve of his robe.

“Just pretend they’re all in their underwear, or something,” she said, winking at him. “We’ve got this.”

Barry flushed red and nodded. Lup was nervous too, though she’d never say so out loud. Their work would likely be dangerous, and further from home than she’d ever been...not that home had been all that constant for the twins. That was the other thing: the being part of a team thing. It had been her and Taako against the world for so long. And now everything would be different.

She didn’t know then, how different it would be.

“How long do you think we’ll be at this?” Lup asked. It was the twelfth cycle. She was laying on the bed and staring up at the ceiling of the room she shared with her brother. It was early morning, sunlight was coming in through the window and strange calls of birds that only belonged to this plane filled her ears.

“Who knows,” Taako said, rolling over. “What’s wrong Lulu?”

She turned her head to look at him. She wondered if she looked as tired as he did: dark circles beneath his eyes, messy hair, tight jaw.

“You mean, besides the usual?”

He nodded.

“I don’t know. Barry said something about devoting more time to research on the Hunger and I just...realized that we honestly have no idea what we’re up against. We know zip, zilch, nada, and that freaks me out.”

“So we’ll learn about it, like Barry said.”

“Yeah, okay, like Barry said,” Lup repeated. She closed her eyes. When she closed her eyes and laid flat on her back, sometimes she could convince herself that she was somewhere else: their room at the IPRE headquarters, a caravan during their years on the road, sitting, barefoot on the cool earth at their grandpa’s farm. She didn’t want to return to any of these places, per say, but lately she’d been reaching for any place that felt vaguely grounded.

Hurtling through planes with no rhyme or reason did that to a person. She’d grown up with change, with transformation of body and evolution of mind. She changed her clothes on a whim. She tried new spells with reckless abandon. But now everything was moving too fast. Now the ultimate goal was to make existence halt and bend to their will long enough to save everyone.

“Lu?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think about Barry?’

She opened her eyes. “What do you mean, what do I think?” She said, but she realized a moment too late that she was whispering, and that her tone was a little bit defensive.

“Nothing,” Taako said, smile curling at his lips. “Nothing at all, it just seems like you spend a lot of time with him.”

“I spend time with everyone.”

“Fine, dodge the question. That’s as good as an answer.”

Lup rolled over and wrapped an arm around him. She buried her face in his neck and sighed. “I don’t know,” she said. “He’s my friend. It’s complicated.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “Everything’s complicated right now. I just don’t want to be out of the Lup loop.

“You won’t, ever,” she said, seriously.

“I know,” he said. They were still for a moment, listening to the creaks and groans and faint murmurs of the Starblaster and its occupants waking up.

“I think about getting to the end of all this. I don’t think about going back to the way things were, but just finding someplace safe,” she began. “And I think about the things I’ll need when we find that place. I think about a house, or something like it. I think about wide open spaces to do magic where I don’t have to worry about wrecking anyone else’s shit...unless, of course, they deserve it.”

“Natch,” he said.

“And you’re there in the house with me, obviously, and all our friends come visit. But Barry…”

“Is Barry in your house too, Lu? Does he have his own nerd study. Oh! Or a necromancy dungeon?”

Lup laughed. It was halting and a little breathless and her heart was pounding hard, but she laughed. “Maybe,” she said. “The details are still blurry.”

“C’mon,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s make breakfast.”

Cycle after cycle, Lup let herself notice more things about Barry.

He loved it when she made banana pancakes.

He lost his glasses constantly, and broke them at least once a cycle.

His palms would sweat and he’d stumble over his words every time they met someone new. But he remembered every name, cycle after cycle, even though it hurt. Sometimes she’d find him with Lucretia, listening attentively as she read back a bit of writing, which she did only rarely.

Sometimes he’d get angry and frustrated in a way that made him wring his hands and lock his jaw or cry. She found him crying once. She was lingering outside his bedroom with a leftover piece of Taako’s pie. Barry hadn’t eaten much at dinner.

She knocked on his door, gently, and heard him sniffling. “Hey Barry? It’s me. Can I come in?”

She heard more sniffling and then a weak affirmation.

“I brought pie,” she said, holding up the plate and giving him her best smile. He was hunched at the foot of the bed, wiping at his face with his shaky hands.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He repeated it. “I’m sorry Lup. I don’t know why I’m—“

“Don’t apologize,” she said. “It’s okay.” She crossed the room and knelt in front of him. He didn’t meet her eyes, looking down at the floor and stiffening.

“Barry,” she said. She reached up and took his face in both hands. And then he looked at her, eyes wide and watery. They were quiet for a moment. She leaned in and kissed the top of his head. She wiped away the tears left on his face and she watched him watch her.

Barry looked at Lup like she was more than she was. It was a look that had taken her years to pin down.

“Lup?” He said, quietly, nearly a whisper.

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

***

When their song was finished, Lup never wanted to let go of Barry’s hand. He tethered her in space, in time, kept her from floating away on days when she was certain she’d dissolve if she thought too hard about who she was and what she was trying to do.

“I love you,” she said. They were the first words out of her mouth when she got him alone. He was still in his suit, tie looser and stance more casual without the stage fright. He grinned.

“I love you too, Lup,” he replied, instantly.

She took both his hands. They should have done this years ago. “No, I mean I really love you, Barry. I’ve been wanting to say something for a while now. I’ve loved you for cycles and cycles, babe.”

He flushed. “I feel the same,” he said.

“Good,” she breathed. “That’s so good to hear. I thought, for a long time, that it wasn’t a good idea to start something. I thought we’d end up hurting each other.”

He looked at her, gravely.

“But I’ve been hurt so much, through all of this, and I’m still here. And I still love you.”

She embraced him, burying her face in his neck and clinging to him. “We did it,” she said. “I got so caught up in loving you that I nearly forgot.”

He laughed. “It was beautiful. You’re beautiful.” They came apart. She realized she wanted to hold him forever. She missed his arms around her the second they weren’t there.

“Lup?” He said. “Can I—?”

“Yes,” she said, before he could finish. And then he was leaning up to kiss her.

“I love you,” he said.

“You said that already,” she said.

“Making up for lost time,” he said.

Lup’s image of home, the distant, distorting one, began to solidify in the coming cycles. Late at night, one cycle, the light of creation’s energy burned too passionately in them for sleep. Lup lit candles and sat on Barry’s bed (their bed now) with a mess of notes and scrolls and half-baked diagrams for experiments. They were working on the whole lich thing, an idea they’d talked about for the last five cycles in clandestine whispers. Every bone in Lup’s body ached but she couldn’t close her eyes. Barry was at the desk beside her, similarly engrossed in his work.

“Babe?”

He looked up and over at her with exhaustion, but interest. “Find something?”

She shook her head, and pulled her knees to her chest. “Nothing yet.”

“It’s complicated magic,” he said.

She nodded.

“What are you thinking? You wanna call it a night?” He asked, voice gentle. Candlelight flickered on his face, casting warm shadows.

“I don’t. But I think we should try, to sleep I mean.”

He stretched, languidly. She cleared away her work and nestled into her side of the bed. She watched him lay down beside her, and for a moment they just looked at each other.

Lup’s imaginary home was full of Barry. His books were on the shelves. His favorite cereal was in the kitchen. And their bed was like this one: soft and inviting and stable. She reached out and they folded into each other, legs tangled together, breath soft, and chests warm.

“I’m worried,” she muttered, eyes closed. “Even if we feel confident to try, there are risks. We could die trying.”

“We won’t,” he said. “I believe in you.”

“I believe in you too, sweetie. But I don’t know about any of this.”

He drew back and met her eyes. “We’re not ready yet, but I know we will be. We’ve made it this far,” he said. “We’ll make it to the end.”

“Okay,” she said, dazed with the intensity of the eye contact, the urge to kiss him. She thought about the end of all of this. She wondered how many more nights she would sleep pressed to his chest, breathing in unison.

She tried her best to commit this moment entirely to memory, to cling to it even as their surroundings shifted and the Starblaster soared through unknown after unknown. Barry had blown out the candles and their smoke hovered: delicate, fragrant, plumes in the dark. He dozed off quickly, holding her tight to him as if she’d slip away in the night. Most mornings Lup had to detangle herself from him, carefully, to go to the kitchen and make breakfast. Sometimes, though, she’d let him keep her from the rest of the day. Gladly, she’d close her eyes against the glare of the sunrise and stay a few moments longer in his warmth.

“Barry?” She said suddenly.

“Mm?” He was half asleep, but still shifted to look at her with sleepy eyes.

“I love you.”

He smiled and kissed her. She’d said it hundreds of times but it never felt like enough.

“I love you too,” he said.

***

“Where is he?” Lup said. Rage tore through her chest, blind and confused. Taako’s hands were on her shoulders. Magnus and Lucretia were standing in the doorway, looking bedraggled and forlorn.

“He’s going to be fine, Lulu. Merle did his best with healing spells but he’s lost a lot of blood. He’s all bandaged up in there, but he’s pretty out of it.” Taako said, slowly. He didn’t break eye contact. She felt her whole body tense.

“What happened?”

“Thieves,” Lucretia said. “They ambushed us. I...I tried to counter their attacks but they had strong magic and we were outnumbered. Lup, I’m sorry.” She looked at the floor and Magnus put a hand on her shoulder.

“Let me see him,” she said.

They’d died before, too many times. They’d been hurt. They’d suffered to the end, clinging on pointlessly only to be reset. But it never got easier, seeing Barry pale and stiff in their bed.

“Are you in a lot of pain?” She asked, trying to keep her voice even.

“I’m fine, Lup. Don’t—” He stopped, because he’d tried to sit up and couldn’t. He winced and Lup felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

His eyes were glazed over and his face was cut and bruised. He swayed against the pillow and gave her his best, clearly strained, smile.

It was like this when anyone got hurt. Her heart started beating out of her chest. Her hands shook. It didn’t matter that’d they’d been through hell and back countless times. It didn’t matter that everything was going to reset.

“I’m okay,” he said. Even incapacitated, he read her expression, she knew, because his eyes widened with panic to reassure her. “Honestly, Lup. Merle stopped the bleeding; I’m just sore and a little dizzy. ”

“Let me see,” she said, crossing the room. She perched on the edge of the bed.

“Lup…”

“Show me how bad it is.” She stared him down until he lifted his shirt. His bandage was already soaking through with blood. It was a big gash, from the look of it, and he frowned as her chin began to wobble.

“It’s fine. We’ve done this before.” She reached out and took his face in her hands.

“How many people attacked you?”

“Six. We got out. It’s okay.”

“Lucretia said you passed out. You could have died. The cycle’s not even half-over. That would have absolutely sucked, Barry.” The words were pouring out of her now. “And it’s not fine. Being without you for most of a cycle would’ve been terrible and it’d be the first time you died since we got together. And, fuck...it’s not your fault babe, obviously, but you scared the shit out of me and I kind of want to go blow something up now.”

He smiled, but she could see the exhaustion in his eyes. He was trying to keep himself upright but it was a struggle. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know. I won’t die on you this time. But…”

“What?” She said.

He laughed, which consequently doubled him over with pain. He was getting further away from her. Sleepier and loopy with blood loss. “You died two cycles ago,” he muttered, like it was a secret. “And I…” he trailed off.

She remembered. A bad fall off a rocky cliff they were exploring. It was stupid, really. She’d hit the ground fast.

“And, what?” They hadn’t talked about that particular death. Normally, Barry didn’t talk about death at all, unless it was about liches.

“It was bad,” he said at last. He laid back and stared up at the ceiling. “We’ve got to figure out how to stop dying.” He closed his eyes. “Maybe I’ll dream an answer,” he whispered.

She laughed. “Maybe.”

Lup asked Lucretia later. Lucretia was at the kitchen table with an ice pack at her temple and her journal open in front of her. She looked up when Lup took a seat across from her.

“How are you feeling?” She asked. Lucretia shrugged.

“Stupid, for not stopping them. Happy, that I’m still here.”

“You’re not stupid,” Lup said. “It’s not your fault.”

She smiled, that gentle smile that Lup noticed was rare. All these years and Lup could only recall catching a few of them.

“How’s Barry?”

“He says he’s fine.”

“Good,” Lucretia breathed. “If he says so.”

“I—” Lup’s chest tightened. “What was he like, the last time I died?”

Lucretia looked down at her journal. “Lup, I write it all down, but I don’t...I can’t—“

“That bad, huh?” Lup said.

Lucretia sighed. “He wouldn’t leave his room for weeks.”

Oh Barry.

“He didn’t tell me.”

“We’re all wrecks, when we lose someone,” Lucretia said. “And you love each other, so much. It’s all in here.” She tapped the journal.

“Greatest story ever told,” she muttered. “Honestly.”

She retreated to Barry’s room a while later.

“Hey, hot stuff. How’s the bleeding?”

He blinked, sleepily. She handed him a glass of water and took a seat on the bed beside him. “I’m just here to tell you I’m going to spend the night with Taako so I don’t accidentally hug you too hard and take you out.”

“Okay,” he said. “I appreciate that.”

He turned to look at her, gaze softer, and more adoring than it had any right to be.

“You could’ve told me about what it was like in the cycle I died,” she said. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

“Did Lucretia say something?”

“I twisted her arm.”

Barry sighed. “I worked harder that cycle than I ever have. I...I don’t want to watch you die again.”

“I know.”

“I’m so sick of watching you die, Lup.”

“I know,” she repeated. Her voice shook. “You want to know what else I know?

“What?”

“We’re ready,” she said, softly.

“You think so?” He was wide-eyed again. “I don’t know if I’ll be well enough.”

“Next cycle.” She held out her pinky. “Promise.”

He grinned, and inelegantly linked his pinky in hers. “Promise.”

3: Barry

“Emotional anchors,” Lup said, matter-of-factly. She was cross-legged on the bedroom floor. “I have my list. Do you have yours?”

He was about to tell her that this was another anchor he could add to his list: the image of her, long legs and bruised knees, mess of curls pulled into a bun (this cycle her hair was light and unruly, and always smelled like flowers or cinnamon), toenails freshly painted and wild look in her eyes. But he didn’t. If he wrote down every moment he was in love with Lup, the list would be miles long.

“Yes,” he said, pulling it out of the pocket of his robe. “But you have to go first.”

“If you insist,” she said, retrieving her own list. She grinned.

“When Taako and I think up the same dinner before we even talk about it.”

“Twin telepathy.”

“Of course,” she said. “And the beach, cycles ago, swimming with everyone in the sunshine. And the mongoose family. And the wooden ducks Magnus leaves everywhere. And breakfast. And late nights and…”

“Go on,” he said. “It’s great.”

She got up, brandishing the list triumphantly, as if giving a speech.

“And you. Every memory I have of you. Even the bad ones, the missing you. Waking up next to you. Holding you. Making you coffee. Your brilliant mind.The way you look at me sometimes, like I have all the answers, even though I don’t. Those jeans.”

“Don’t feel like you have to keep going on,” he said, face bright red despite the years and years of sweet things she’d said to him.

“Oh, but I want to.” She leapt onto the bed and kissed him.

“Your turn,” she said. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Barry.”

He took out his list, but suddenly his hands were shaking and he couldn’t get them to stop.

“Barry,” she repeated, putting her hands over his.

“Maybe you could read them,” he said, voice quivering. “I’m sorry Lup. I...it hits me in waves, you know? What we’re doing. What this means. The risk.”

“We’re ready,” she said. “You said it yourself.”

“I know,” he said. And he meant it. “I just never want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either, sweetie, and I won’t. Because we’re ready.”

She squeezed his hand, in the way that made it an item on the list.

“And we’re gonna look sick as hell as liches,” she said.

***

It felt strange, at first, being formless, intangible. And then she was there, radiant, red-robed, grinning as much as a skull could, and the euphoria hit.

And Taako was laughing, tears in his eyes when Lup dabbed. Only she could make something entirely terrifying feel ridiculous and light-hearted and beautiful.

Barry reached out to hold her, but he couldn’t, neither of them could because their bodies were somewhere else.

“We did it,” he breathed. If he could cry he would, out of relief or joy or both.

It was freeing to feel disembodied after years and years in a body that remained so static it was like it didn’t belong to him. It was freeing to look at Lup, with her robes billowing and fire at her fingertips, and recognize her perfectly, even in this new, frightening form.

It took time to process, living out the rest of the year as ghosts, hovering above the rest of the crew while they had meetings, spending all night researching because they didn’t need to sleep.

But it felt good, after awhile, to be made of power, energy, might when they never felt mighty. Lup was a force of nature. She radiated. She struck fear in the hearts of her enemies. She was incredible.

It still felt better to be embodied, beside her. And a year spent as a lich made it all the better to be a body. It made it all the more electrifying to hold her hand.

They did a lot of hand holding in the next few years, when the Hunger got closer and yet more elusive. And when they created the relics, a decision that kept Lup up at night, arms curled around her knees, staring off into some place he couldn’t reach.

“We’re doing the right thing, right? It’s hard but…”

“It’s the best solution we have right now. We’ll keep working. But this plane is safer.”

“For who? For how long? People are dying because of something we made.”

“The Hunger would’ve killed all of them,” Barry said, as gently as he could. She was right, he knew, but there was nothing else they could do, not now when their existence was stable enough to stop spinning, to give them a moment to breathe.

“I know,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair. They were on the deck of the Starblaster, again, again, again for the thousandth time, looking up at the stars from earth that didn’t belong to them. They were sharing a bottle of wine, which was in theory romantic, but in practice had brought thinly veiled sadness to the surface. Barry didn’t know it yet, but this was their last date—for a long, long time at least.

“I’ve thought about settling down,” she said. “Really settling down.”

“You have?” He said, struggling to contain his grin.

“But I can’t, in a world that we’re hurting. No matter how much I love you.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He’d spent 100 years close and yet infinitely far from the future they both dreamed about, the one they spoke of softly, in the thin space before sleep. It was a future where they slowed down, where they lived in a warm house together, and friends visited. They threw dinner parties and danced in the living room and grew old. Adventures were chosen, not forced upon them by cosmic rule. They became attached to some place, a new home after years of saying goodbye to worlds, communities, people they’d grown to love. The future was safe and open and theirs, together.

“We’ll get there. We’ve made it so much farther than we thought we would, already.”

“We have,” she said, softly, nearly a whisper. She was quietest with him. She could be so loud, so charismatic and self-assured. But now he could see fear in her eyes. And sadness. And exhaustion. All the things she ordinarily liked to keep hidden.

“We just have to keep working,” she said, putting her hand over his.

“Together,” he said.

“Together,” she repeated.

***

They weren’t together for a long time after that night. And time was slow, excruciatingly so, without Lup. Back soon. Back soon. Back soon. It cycled through his brain late at night, when sleep wouldn’t come and he laid there in the dark, staring at the ceiling.

And when it happened—when the past was pulled out from under him, when his home tumbled away—back soon became a mantra, a hope half-remembered in bodies that were his but not quite.

The years of planning, of getting somewhere and then missing his chance, of finding the boys and then losing them again. Remembering and forgetting and remembering again and sometimes, he’d look up at the stars late at night and miss the Starblaster. He missed the movement, the purpose, and the unity of their team. And missing Lup took root in his soul. It was a dull ache that never went away. In his lich form he’d talk to himself, looking over his shoulder expecting to see her there, expecting her advice or a smile or joke or eye roll. Anything.

And when he didn’t remember he still had the faint traces of her absence, an emptiness that filled up every room and made it feel cold.

Then he found them, his dear friends who looked at him with such blank eyes, and convinced them to trust him again. And Taako broke the umbra staff.

He’d forgotten how it felt to look at her, to find her looking back and to understand her every thought from that look, even as a lich.He’d forgotten the brilliance of her power, the fury with which she attacked the Hunger, the defiance in her stance.

Back soon. Back soon. Back soon. Back.

“Hear that, babe? We’re legends,” Lup hovered just above him, looking out at everyone who had joined their fight, the fight that had gone on for more than 100 years, the fight that had consumed so much of them, even their bodies, making them spectral.

“Let’s end this,” he said, grinning at her, weary but overjoyed, overcome with love for her.

4. Lup

When it was all over, and a year of settling down had settled them down (and given Lup a new body), Lup got her dream house. It was a cottage, really, but they never wanted any place big. It was a quick commute to the Astral Plane (though technically everywhere was a quick commute to the Astral Plane.) Best of all, though, was that it wasn’t going anywhere.

Lup was in the kitchen making crepes for brunch. They were lemon with blueberry sauce, Barry’s favorite, and fragrant enough to fill the whole house with sweetness. Barry was still asleep, and it had been tough to remove herself from his grasp that morning, when she felt she could lay there in his arms for hours, exhilarated by the gentle steadiness of his breathing when she’d spent all those years trapped in the umbra staff, alone, until Taako found her.

But another freedom she’d missed was of movement. She flipped a thin, golden brown crepe in the pan. She missed cooking. She missed long walks, like the one she’d taken with Barry the night before. She missed stretching out on a couch, feet tangled with Taako’s, catching up on all the things she missed and grilling him about his dates with death (both in the sense of evenings out with Kravitz, and untimely demises she’d heard second hand from within the umbra staff.)

The house made her calm. It was becoming a home she could trust to be there, not one that flew away year after year or confined her. The kitchen was small and bright, with big windows that looked out to the forest beyond. They had a campfire outside for when Angus visited and wanted to make s’mores. Inside she had a full set of appliances, a stand mixer from Taako’s new cooking line, a blender Barry had bought her as a “welcome to your new flesh body” present, and a set of dishes, pans, and measuring cups from fantasy IKEA.

The living room was connected to the kitchen. It was cluttered with mismatched furniture: a chair Magnus had built them, a coffee table Lup had bargained aggressively for at an antique sale, the massive pull out couch that many a drunk friend had crashed on already, one of Lucretia’s new paintings on the wall (a landscape of the moon base), and an upright piano in the corner for Barry to practice. He’d taken music up again, as had she. She was considering writing some more music...with badass violin solos. She had plenty to write about.

Down the hallway was their bathroom, laundry room, and a study, which they shared, though as of late most of their studying consisted of day long conversations about everything they missed, studying each other in a way that felt brand new, despite the many years behind them.

And at the end of the hall was their bedroom, the room from which Barry Bluejeans was now emerging. Their bed was big and warm and they had a record player in the corner for nights when they felt like dancing (and Lup felt like dancing a lot now). When she has nightmares he’d wake her up with gentle hands on her shoulders and she’d fold into him, as close as they could be.

Barry would wake with bedhead, like now.

“What are you making?” He asked, glasses smudged and grin wide. He took a seat at the kitchen table. She already had coffee waiting for him: two sugars and a splash of soy milk. “Can I help with anything?”

“Am I not a master in this kitchen, babe?” She said, turning to wink exaggeratedly. “Thank you, though.”

“To be honest, I’m sure I’d ruin any crepe I tried to make.”

“Oh, so crepes are harder than necromancy?”

“We’ve all got different skill sets, Lup.”

She laughed, and she was happy, so much happier than she ever thought she’d be. She finished off the last of the crepes and split them into two piles, drenching them in the berry sauce and garnishing them with a few mint leaves from the plant in the window sill (a housewarming gift from Merle.)

“Brunch is served,” she said, placing the plate in front of him and plucking the glasses from his face to clean them on the corner of her apron. “Nerd,” she added, with the utmost affection.

They sat in silence for awhile, eating and taking turns filling in clues in the newspaper crossword puzzle. Soon, Lup rested her chin in her palms and just stared at him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, expression puzzled and bemused in the mid-morning sun.

“No reason,” she said. “I just like looking at you.

These Things Happen To Other People (They Don’t Happen At All)

1: Barry

When it became clear that they would have to fight, every day, in every plane, year after year to stop the Hunger and protect the light, the list of things Barry noticed about Lup grew.

She hummed when she cooked.

She had absolutely illegible handwriting.

She was usually the last person on the ship to go to bed. He’d find her hunched over a book or rehearsing spells in the latest, stillest hours of the night.

“Lup?”

She startled, for a second, before he saw her shoulders relax. She was at the kitchen table, her legs folded under her as she stared at a map.

“It’s taking awhile to find the light this time,” she said. “All the places it could be keep buzzing around in my head. Can’t sleep.”

He nodded. “It’s early though. We’ll find it.”

“I know,” she said with a smile that looked like it was more to comfort him than something genuine. “I’m not underestimating my own brilliance. Or yours for that matter.”

“I’m not brilliant,” Barry said. He felt his face heating up. He hoped Lup wouldn’t see, but then he remembered she had night vision.

“You are,” she said, easy, nonchalant, and turned back to her work. “I’ll go to bed soon. Don’t worry,” she said, glancing up at him once more. “Goodnight, Barry.”

“Goodnight Lup.” He said. He wanted to say he thought she was the most brilliant person he’d ever met. But he didn’t.

Barry noticed that Lup took her coffee black, but always remembered to bring him cream and sugar when they were working together.

“Wouldn’t that be amazing,” Barry said, trying not to sound too grim. It was a tough year. Most of the time he was too tired to distinguish the plethora of plants in front of him.

“Wanna hear something crazy, Barry?”

“Sure,” he said, caught off guard for a moment by the way she said his name, softer than she usually said it.

“Us,” Barry said. Lup’s eyes were wide and expectant.

“It’s just crazy. I get it, but it’s crazy being here. Doing this. Do you think about death,

Barry?”

“Lup...” She was looking out at the landscape, her jaw clenched and head held high.

But what did Barry know, anyway.

But it wasn’t the same.

***

And then it was cycle 47, and they were at the conservatory.

“I’ve played the violin,” Lup said. “A bit, back when Taako and I were on the road.”

“Of what?” Barry asked.

She shrugged. “Losing everything. Being on our own again. Taako and I always managed, but it was never easy.”

She ran a hand through her hair (long in this plane, loosely curled and deep brown) and shook her head. “I want the music to feel different now.”

“Should we write a song then? I could—I mean I’ve always wanted to learn the piano,” he said.

“You have?” She said, suddenly playful, eyebrows raised. “Well, I would very much like to hear that, Barold.”

“We only have a year,” he said.

“I think we can do it anyway,” she said, and she put her hand on his knee.

Lup had become everything.

“Are you ready?”

Barry was in the kitchen, washing dishes. He looked up and saw Taako in the doorway. He had his arms crossed and was leaning on the door frame.

Barry shrugged. The ceremony was tomorrow. They’d done everything they could. “Maybe I am. I believe in Lup.”

Taako nodded. “You know, Barold, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

“Is that from your book?”

“That’s confidential. But do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

“Maybe?” Barry said.

Taako sighed. “Look, man. It has been literally 47 years. I know they say not to kiss and tell but this is a bit extreme.”

“We haven’t...Lup and I aren’t...”

“Well then get on it, my man. Life’s too short.”

“Is that also in the book?”

“You two play your little song and I’ll show you what’s in my incredibly brilliant book.”

Barry sighed. “I just...she’s...I don’t know. If something goes wrong it’s not as if I can hide from her. Who knows how long we’ll have to keep doing this and—“

“Well...thanks, Taako,” Barry said. “I’ll try my best.”

***

“You look nervous,” Barry said. He was so accustomed to the feeling himself that he laughed when she rolled her eyes at him.

“Thanks for noticing,” she said. “You look nervous too.”

So he didn’t either.

“Barry,” she said. “Do you wanna go talk somewhere for awhile?”

“Sure.”

2: Lup

Still, Lup never thought of her life’s story as a tragedy. She didn’t think it was a romance either.

“I’m not good at talking in front of a lot of people,” Barry said, wringing his hands. The press conference was about to begin.

“Just pretend they’re all in their underwear, or something,” she said, winking at him. “We’ve got this.”

She didn’t know then, how different it would be.

“Who knows,” Taako said, rolling over. “What’s wrong Lulu?”

She turned her head to look at him. She wondered if she looked as tired as he did: dark circles beneath his eyes, messy hair, tight jaw.

“You mean, besides the usual?”

He nodded.

“So we’ll learn about it, like Barry said.”

“Lu?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think about Barry?’

She opened her eyes. “What do you mean, what do I think?” She said, but she realized a moment too late that she was whispering, and that her tone was a little bit defensive.

“Nothing,” Taako said, smile curling at his lips. “Nothing at all, it just seems like you spend a lot of time with him.”

“I spend time with everyone.”

“Fine, dodge the question. That’s as good as an answer.”

Lup rolled over and wrapped an arm around him. She buried her face in his neck and sighed. “I don’t know,” she said. “He’s my friend. It’s complicated.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “Everything’s complicated right now. I just don’t want to be out of the Lup loop.

“You won’t, ever,” she said, seriously.

“I know,” he said. They were still for a moment, listening to the creaks and groans and faint murmurs of the Starblaster and its occupants waking up.

“Natch,” he said.

“And you’re there in the house with me, obviously, and all our friends come visit. But Barry…”

“Is Barry in your house too, Lu? Does he have his own nerd study. Oh! Or a necromancy dungeon?”

Lup laughed. It was halting and a little breathless and her heart was pounding hard, but she laughed. “Maybe,” she said. “The details are still blurry.”

“C’mon,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s make breakfast.”

Cycle after cycle, Lup let herself notice more things about Barry.

He loved it when she made banana pancakes.

He lost his glasses constantly, and broke them at least once a cycle.

She knocked on his door, gently, and heard him sniffling. “Hey Barry? It’s me. Can I come in?”

She heard more sniffling and then a weak affirmation.

“I brought pie,” she said, holding up the plate and giving him her best smile. He was hunched at the foot of the bed, wiping at his face with his shaky hands.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He repeated it. “I’m sorry Lup. I don’t know why I’m—“

“Don’t apologize,” she said. “It’s okay.” She crossed the room and knelt in front of him. He didn’t meet her eyes, looking down at the floor and stiffening.

Barry looked at Lup like she was more than she was. It was a look that had taken her years to pin down.

“Lup?” He said, quietly, nearly a whisper.

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

***

“I love you,” she said. They were the first words out of her mouth when she got him alone. He was still in his suit, tie looser and stance more casual without the stage fright. He grinned.

“I love you too, Lup,” he replied, instantly.

He flushed. “I feel the same,” he said.

“Good,” she breathed. “That’s so good to hear. I thought, for a long time, that it wasn’t a good idea to start something. I thought we’d end up hurting each other.”

He looked at her, gravely.

“But I’ve been hurt so much, through all of this, and I’m still here. And I still love you.”

She embraced him, burying her face in his neck and clinging to him. “We did it,” she said. “I got so caught up in loving you that I nearly forgot.”

He laughed. “It was beautiful. You’re beautiful.” They came apart. She realized she wanted to hold him forever. She missed his arms around her the second they weren’t there.

“Lup?” He said. “Can I—?”

“Yes,” she said, before he could finish. And then he was leaning up to kiss her.

“I love you,” he said.

“You said that already,” she said.

“Making up for lost time,” he said.

“Babe?”

He looked up and over at her with exhaustion, but interest. “Find something?”

She shook her head, and pulled her knees to her chest. “Nothing yet.”

“It’s complicated magic,” he said.

She nodded.

“What are you thinking? You wanna call it a night?” He asked, voice gentle. Candlelight flickered on his face, casting warm shadows.

“I don’t. But I think we should try, to sleep I mean.”

He stretched, languidly. She cleared away her work and nestled into her side of the bed. She watched him lay down beside her, and for a moment they just looked at each other.

“I’m worried,” she muttered, eyes closed. “Even if we feel confident to try, there are risks. We could die trying.”

“We won’t,” he said. “I believe in you.”

“I believe in you too, sweetie. But I don’t know about any of this.”

He drew back and met her eyes. “We’re not ready yet, but I know we will be. We’ve made it this far,” he said. “We’ll make it to the end.”

“Barry?” She said suddenly.

“Mm?” He was half asleep, but still shifted to look at her with sleepy eyes.

“I love you.”

He smiled and kissed her. She’d said it hundreds of times but it never felt like enough.

“I love you too,” he said.

***

“Where is he?” Lup said. Rage tore through her chest, blind and confused. Taako’s hands were on her shoulders. Magnus and Lucretia were standing in the doorway, looking bedraggled and forlorn.

“What happened?”

“Let me see him,” she said.

They’d died before, too many times. They’d been hurt. They’d suffered to the end, clinging on pointlessly only to be reset. But it never got easier, seeing Barry pale and stiff in their bed.

“Are you in a lot of pain?” She asked, trying to keep her voice even.

“I’m fine, Lup. Don’t—” He stopped, because he’d tried to sit up and couldn’t. He winced and Lup felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

His eyes were glazed over and his face was cut and bruised. He swayed against the pillow and gave her his best, clearly strained, smile.

“Let me see,” she said, crossing the room. She perched on the edge of the bed.

“Lup…”

“It’s fine. We’ve done this before.” She reached out and took his face in her hands.

“How many people attacked you?”

“Six. We got out. It’s okay.”

He smiled, but she could see the exhaustion in his eyes. He was trying to keep himself upright but it was a struggle. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know. I won’t die on you this time. But…”

“What?” She said.

She remembered. A bad fall off a rocky cliff they were exploring. It was stupid, really. She’d hit the ground fast.

“And, what?” They hadn’t talked about that particular death. Normally, Barry didn’t talk about death at all, unless it was about liches.

“It was bad,” he said at last. He laid back and stared up at the ceiling. “We’ve got to figure out how to stop dying.” He closed his eyes. “Maybe I’ll dream an answer,” he whispered.

She laughed. “Maybe.”

Lup asked Lucretia later. Lucretia was at the kitchen table with an ice pack at her temple and her journal open in front of her. She looked up when Lup took a seat across from her.

“How are you feeling?” She asked. Lucretia shrugged.

“Stupid, for not stopping them. Happy, that I’m still here.”

“You’re not stupid,” Lup said. “It’s not your fault.”

She smiled, that gentle smile that Lup noticed was rare. All these years and Lup could only recall catching a few of them.

“How’s Barry?”

“He says he’s fine.”

“Good,” Lucretia breathed. “If he says so.”

“I—” Lup’s chest tightened. “What was he like, the last time I died?”

Lucretia looked down at her journal. “Lup, I write it all down, but I don’t...I can’t—“

“That bad, huh?” Lup said.

Lucretia sighed. “He wouldn’t leave his room for weeks.”

Oh Barry.

“He didn’t tell me.”

“We’re all wrecks, when we lose someone,” Lucretia said. “And you love each other, so much. It’s all in here.” She tapped the journal.

“Greatest story ever told,” she muttered. “Honestly.”

She retreated to Barry’s room a while later.

“Hey, hot stuff. How’s the bleeding?”

“Okay,” he said. “I appreciate that.”

He turned to look at her, gaze softer, and more adoring than it had any right to be.

“You could’ve told me about what it was like in the cycle I died,” she said. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

“Did Lucretia say something?”

“I twisted her arm.”

Barry sighed. “I worked harder that cycle than I ever have. I...I don’t want to watch you die again.”

“I know.”

“I’m so sick of watching you die, Lup.”

“I know,” she repeated. Her voice shook. “You want to know what else I know?

“What?”

“We’re ready,” she said, softly.

“You think so?” He was wide-eyed again. “I don’t know if I’ll be well enough.”

“Next cycle.” She held out her pinky. “Promise.”

He grinned, and inelegantly linked his pinky in hers. “Promise.”

3: Barry

“Emotional anchors,” Lup said, matter-of-factly. She was cross-legged on the bedroom floor. “I have my list. Do you have yours?”

“Yes,” he said, pulling it out of the pocket of his robe. “But you have to go first.”

“If you insist,” she said, retrieving her own list. She grinned.

“When Taako and I think up the same dinner before we even talk about it.”

“Twin telepathy.”

“Go on,” he said. “It’s great.”

She got up, brandishing the list triumphantly, as if giving a speech.

“Don’t feel like you have to keep going on,” he said, face bright red despite the years and years of sweet things she’d said to him.

“Oh, but I want to.” She leapt onto the bed and kissed him.

“Your turn,” she said. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Barry.”

He took out his list, but suddenly his hands were shaking and he couldn’t get them to stop.

“Barry,” she repeated, putting her hands over his.

“Maybe you could read them,” he said, voice quivering. “I’m sorry Lup. I...it hits me in waves, you know? What we’re doing. What this means. The risk.”

“We’re ready,” she said. “You said it yourself.”

“I know,” he said. And he meant it. “I just never want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either, sweetie, and I won’t. Because we’re ready.”

She squeezed his hand, in the way that made it an item on the list.

“And we’re gonna look sick as hell as liches,” she said.

***

It felt strange, at first, being formless, intangible. And then she was there, radiant, red-robed, grinning as much as a skull could, and the euphoria hit.

And Taako was laughing, tears in his eyes when Lup dabbed. Only she could make something entirely terrifying feel ridiculous and light-hearted and beautiful.

Barry reached out to hold her, but he couldn’t, neither of them could because their bodies were somewhere else.

“We did it,” he breathed. If he could cry he would, out of relief or joy or both.

It took time to process, living out the rest of the year as ghosts, hovering above the rest of the crew while they had meetings, spending all night researching because they didn’t need to sleep.

It still felt better to be embodied, beside her. And a year spent as a lich made it all the better to be a body. It made it all the more electrifying to hold her hand.

“We’re doing the right thing, right? It’s hard but…”

“It’s the best solution we have right now. We’ll keep working. But this plane is safer.”

“For who? For how long? People are dying because of something we made.”

“I’ve thought about settling down,” she said. “Really settling down.”

“You have?” He said, struggling to contain his grin.

“But I can’t, in a world that we’re hurting. No matter how much I love you.”

“We’ll get there. We’ve made it so much farther than we thought we would, already.”

“We just have to keep working,” she said, putting her hand over his.

“Together,” he said.

“Together,” she repeated.

***

And when it happened—when the past was pulled out from under him, when his home tumbled away—back soon became a mantra, a hope half-remembered in bodies that were his but not quite.

And when he didn’t remember he still had the faint traces of her absence, an emptiness that filled up every room and made it feel cold.

Then he found them, his dear friends who looked at him with such blank eyes, and convinced them to trust him again. And Taako broke the umbra staff.

Back soon. Back soon. Back soon. Back.

“Let’s end this,” he said, grinning at her, weary but overjoyed, overcome with love for her.

4. Lup

Barry would wake with bedhead, like now.

“Am I not a master in this kitchen, babe?” She said, turning to wink exaggeratedly. “Thank you, though.”

“To be honest, I’m sure I’d ruin any crepe I tried to make.”

“Oh, so crepes are harder than necromancy?”

“We’ve all got different skill sets, Lup.”

“Brunch is served,” she said, placing the plate in front of him and plucking the glasses from his face to clean them on the corner of her apron. “Nerd,” she added, with the utmost affection.

They sat in silence for awhile, eating and taking turns filling in clues in the newspaper crossword puzzle. Soon, Lup rested her chin in her palms and just stared at him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, expression puzzled and bemused in the mid-morning sun.

“No reason,” she said. “I just like looking at you.”

#the adventure zone #blupjeans #barry bluejeans #taz balance #lup #taz #mcelroys #the zone cast #taako #lup/barry #taz fic #blupjeans fic #awi's fic

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