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kayzume · 4 years ago

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Pairing: Bokuto x Reader

Genre: a tiny, tiny bit of angst, but mostly fluff:>

wc: 4.1k, who knew i can pull of something this long😃

Note: This fic is my gift to @jayeray for our server secret santa, Happy Holidays to you I hope you had a great Christmas and I hope we get to talk more (timezone is sht, I must be asleep when yer online🥲)I hope this piece makes you smile:>. Also sorry for shamelessly asking three people to beta this bec im not sure about how it turned out, also bec my grammar is sht(T ^ T)—also lemme thank the internet by helping me with them vows, only edited some parts of it to fit the story better..

Beta: @thirstyforthem2dmen , @india-katsuki , @prismaintales kithes to all of u

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Life is filled with fluttering moments, these events mark something within us that would either make us...or break us. You guessed that most of your story has made you what you are today. You were walking in the park hand in hand with Koutaro and your daughter, playing with his hair while she sat on his shoulders.

“Momma can I ask something?” your daughter spoke breaking silence.

“What is it baby?” you responded

“How’d you meet dad?” she asked cocking her head to the side, much like her father when he’s curious. You smiled at her,

“Well…”

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‘The Meeting’

“Hey, Hey” you ignored whatever that was and whoever was making those annoying calls. Your face remained buried on the textbook required for your literature elective. Lost in your own thoughts and the flow of music through your earbuds, you missed the exasperated sigh that left the lips of the one and only Bokuto Kutaro, star player of the volleyball team.

“Hey miss!” tap tap the loud tapping burst your train of thoughts pulling one of your buds out, you glared at the man in front of you.

“What? You got nothing better to do buddy?!” you spat in utter annoyance.

“You’re in my seat” he replied grimly, lowkey telling you to scoot over. You, in return, refused to leave your spot; checking every nook and cranny to try and look for names or scribblings.

“Doesn’t have your name on it, you can’t stake a claim and this is school property” you argue pettily. He looked at you in disbelief.

“B-but Akaashi sits right here” he whispered, albeit to himself. You stifled a scoff, he looked so upset at the fact that he can’t sit beside this ‘Akaashi’ person. You cleared your throat and offered him the other side of your spot, which is free.

“Why don’t you sit here instead, you’d still be near your friend. I wouldn’t hinder any chatter that you decide to make” is what you told him. There’s no particular reason as to why you wouldn’t move instead, just that your pride isn’t letting you, besides his reactions are very much worth the trouble. The classroom doors creaked open, students pouring in and occupying the seats. A man with dark hair approached you, or rather the seat beside you. He eyed the person you were conversing with just now. He didn’t utter a word and took his seat beside you. A few minutes later the bells started ringing signaling the start of lectures, your professor walked in clutching big old dusty books of classic literature, your not so favorite. The only reason you were even taking this class is for the extra credits, that you most definitely do not need. You were bored and needed a new source of entertainment. For normal students this must seem ridiculous, because studying isn’t counted as a source of fun. Take note ‘normal’ you were far from normal. You’re friendless, you were having a hard time mingling with others your age. It's not that you were getting bullied, it's just you and your foreboding trust issues. You hated the feeling of betrayal and refused to remember what it was like, so as a coping mechanism you refused to make friends, or even open up to anyone.

Bokuto was upset that he didn’t get to sit beside Akaashi, he was a year ahead but the volleyball coaches as much as they hate to prevent him from playing official games, he was failing english literature and needed to keep up his grades in order to enter the court again. Easier said than done, his literature class held him back from moving further. His professor sponsored his letter so that he will only be held back by one subject and not the whole year, all he had to do now is pass the semester with flying colors, and so far he was having a hard time. That’s the reason he needed to sit near Akaashi so the later can help him with his studies, then this woman came out of nowhere and taking his seat is not helping the least bit and he hates it.

“L/N-san we would like to request your assistance” your professor spoke in a low voice. Assistance in what matter, it seems important that it looks almost impossible to refuse.

“I’d be glad to lend a hand, but with what, sensei you rarely ask for favors it feels new” you replied

“Please tutor Bokuto Kotarou, he’s an oncoming senior but has been held back by this subject. If he fails one more time he’d have to repeat the whole year, and this might also put a bad name for his sports scholarship” She explained, you looked at the profile of the student you need to tutor, it was him, the guy with condiments hair.

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“Condiments hair?” your daughter asked in confusion

“Mom was so mean right?? She called dad condiments, do I look like a bottle of ketchup baby?” Koutaro countered on your daughter with faux pity.

“Oh please, your hair is literally salt and pepper, and yeah you looked like a bottle of ketchup when you blush” you chuckled responding to them.

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‘The Courtship’

It’s been five months since you started teaching Kotarou, and the two of you were past the last name formalities. He was still the same as when you first met, loud and annoying. But you’d never tell him that, because as you’ve observed he has times where he just suddenly drops his attitude and becomes sort of gloomy head in the clouds type of persona. It was confusing and downright weird.

You were at the library looking for articles that can support your paper. It was 6pm, you were hungry and sleepy from studying the whole day, and you were starting to get bored. But since your paperwork is nowhere near done you just couldn't leave.

You heaved a deep sigh and rubbed your now strained eyes, feeling the drowsiness trying to pull you into passing out.

BAM.

You suddenly jolted in your seat, you looked at your side where the loud thump came from. Koutaro was pulling the seat beside you.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have practice” you asked him, he rarely— almost never skips his volleyball practices.

He sat down properly and jingled a bag in your face.“I had a feeling you’d be hungry by now, I heard from Akaashi that you’re pulling all nighters for your class paper, besides we didn't have session today too, and yes, I have practice today” He replied so calmly it weirded you out a bit.

“Then what—” you started asking again when he rudely pressed his pointing finger at your lips. You were so tempted to bite him.

“I ditched, because of our session” he told you, “and also because I want to bring you some food” he continued.

“Kou, we don’t have sessions during Fridays. You specifically asked me to skip tutoring you on Fridays because you said you want to spend this day hanging out with your friends” you replied to his nonsense. You’re grateful that he thought of you and brought you food, but also you didn’t want to take away his personal time with his friends.

“Uhh y/n, you are my friend too so technically I’m still hanging out and spending my time wisely” he told you while opening a bag of pretzels for the two of you to share. You were thankful you picked the most isolated wing of the library to study or else you two would’ve been kicked out from munching loudly.

You blushed a shade of pink not because he said he sees you as a friend, your cherry blossom cheeks represent the embarrassment and lowkey disappointment that you felt knowing that a friend is all that you will be to him.

“I meant special. You’re a very special friend y/n, and that I hope you’ll allow me to offer you more than a special friendship…” he trailed off looking deeply in the depths of your pooling eyes. You can’t help but feel overwhelmed at the butterflies that started storming from within you. If you were a cherry blossom before, you’d definitely be a red rose now.

“Whatever do you mean by that?” you asked him sheepishly, lowering your head to shield him from seeing you in such an unsightly state. You fiddled with your hands whilst waiting for him to give you an answer.

“Y/n, C-can I court you?” He replied with a sweet smile.

‘The Answer’

It’s been a couple of months since Bokuto’s confession and up to this day you still feel giddy about it. Who would’ve thought that you’ll attract someone the complete opposite of you.

Whenever he visits your dorm or whenever you accompany each other somewhere he doesn’t fail to do something sweet to show his affection towards you. You were having mixed feelings whether to give him a chance or not. ‘Relationships are scary’ you thought, but the idea of him doing those sweet things for others gives a painful churn within you. He invited you to attend a game of his and cheer for him.

“Cheers for goodluck” is what he said the last time you met, which was the day before. You entered the gym, the bright lights blinding your sight. Lightly covering up you headed for the bleachers.

The place was already packed from students and other volleyball patrons. You see some free seats, only to be disappointed when they were actually reserved, you turn to leave for a new place when,

“Y/n!! where are you going? Your seat is right here!!” you craned your neck to where the voice came from only to see Koutaro waving at you. He walked to where you were.

“Sit here and cheer for me as loud as you can” he told cracking a beautiful smile. He wasn’t even doing anything special but you could feel the hotness creeping it’s way from your neck to your cheeks.

“O-okay, do your best out there” without even thinking your body moved on its own to give him a peck on his cheeks. His face contorted in surprise, you thought you did something wrong that it made you a little bit conscious, as you we’re pulling away he held your hand and you stared at his blushing face.

“Do it again” he almost sounds commanding if not for his hands slightly shaking in yours

“W-what...I’m sorry my body moved on it’s own” you started,

“Do it again...to double the luck” is what his reply was, you looked down feeling the loud thumping of your heart in your chest you quickly gave his other cheek a peck.

“G-go now, I think the game is about to start” you shoo him away as you try to calm yourself down. You can’t believe you kissed someone. And in public too. For other people it may not be a big thing but for you, that kiss felt special.

(Game goes, 4th Set)

They were at match point and as the game goes, Koutaro suddenly went on his ‘emo mode’, he was dumbfounded just standing there. You looked worried, there was no way they’re going to lose.

“Just one more point” you whispered to yourself, the ball was set and it looks like Koutaro will go for a shot, he still looked out of it. He needs to get out of his slump. An idea came to mind, it was so unlike you to do something like that but you closed your eyes and just goes for it.

“Take that shot and win!!” you screamed the loudest that you can. You saw him stiffen and slowly he ran and jumped, he spiked the ball so hard it bounced with a hard thud, you almost thought it left a mark on the floor. You heard the loud cheers and a loud buzz, signaling that the game comes to a close.

You sighed in relief to see that your little stunt helped him. You were about to go to and congratulate him when he meets you somewhere in the middle.

“Did I do great y/n-chan?” he asked, his eyes sparkling in anticipation almost as if waiting for a praise.

“You did absolutely great, I had fun watching you,I’m sorry I barely cheered loud, I’m not used to public gatherings like this” you shook your head in embarrassment

“Thank you for cheering me on, uhh y/n since we won, don’t you think it’s fitting that i get a gift from you” he told you. You were a bit puzzled, you didn’t get him anything.

“I- I didn’t get you anythi—” you started only to be cut off by him asking,

“Can I please date you now?”

You smiled at him, “Yea sure”

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“I don’t get it, what was the gift that you gave him, if you didn’t buy him one” she asked again tilting her head

“I gave him my answer” you only smiled on her more evident confusion

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‘The Veil and The Bow’

“Calm down Bokuto-san, everything is perfect” Akaashi told Bokuto as they waited for the large wooden doors to open. It has been 5 years since the two of you started going out and 6 months since he proposed. When you said ‘yes’ to his impromptu proposal he couldn’t believe his ears, at first he was worried and ready to pass it off as a joke but then…

“LET'S GO FOR A DRIVE!!” Koutaro screamed out of nowhere, you gave him a look. Raising an eyebrow in confusion you asked,

“Right now?” he must be joking you thought

“Why not?” he asked dumbly, cocking his head to the side

“Uhh..Kou, it’s 11pm.” you told him nonchalantly, you continued filing on your laptop when you felt him tug at your shirt.

“What?” you asked him without looking, he tugged again. This time as you take on his face, he bit his pouty lips and looked at you straight in the eyes as if begging.

“Really? Where are we even going?” you asked him again whilst standing up and slipping on your warmer.

He looked so excited he rushed to get his keys when he came back to you. He engulfed you in a big hug, snuggling his face in the crook of your neck.

He let out a small “Thank you”

Feeling his hot breath tickling your neck, you gently pushed him off.

“Are we just gonna stand and hug here?” you jabbed him jokingly as if to hide your reddening cheeks. He held your hand and guided you to his awaiting car. You’ve been driving for quite a while, just seeing where the night takes the two of you.

It took you the beach

You walked on the cold sand hand in hand. It was dark and chilly, you shuddered and Koutaro held you close to him, you heard him squeak,

“What was that? Did you say something?” you asked him just to make sure.

“We’re here” he announced, you looked at your surroundings only to see a gazebo all set up with candles, a picnic blanket and plush pillows. You looked at Koutaro stunned

“T-this is all planned?” you asked him stunned at the effort he pulled. No wonder he badly wants to go. You felt warm through the cold on how sweet he was

“You looked so stressed with work I thought that a date will cheer you up even a little” he told you as he fiddled with his hands, even though he was slightly looking down you can clearly see his reddish ears. You couldn’t contain yourself so you tiptoed and kissed him.

“Thank you Kou, having you around is already calming to me, but you did all this too, you’re so sweet, i love you you’re the best thing I could ever ask for” you told him while caressing his cheeks.

He moved his hands to engulf yours, he slowly pushed your hands of to his mouth, giving your palms a peck.

“No, thank you y/n for giving me a chance to be with someone like you,” he told you as he stared at you lovingly.

The night goes by and the two of you ate, laughed, and told each other stories. You two were lying quietly staring at the stars glittering in the night sky.

Sigh.

You looked at Koutaro after he heaved that deep sigh.

“Hey, something wrong” you nudged him a little.

“Nothing...it’s just that I want us to stay like this forever, happy and contented, say y/n, can I ask you something?” he replied, you were curious as to what he was going to ask it seems like a big deal to him.

“Hmm?” you hummed in response

“Y/n...will you stay with me for as long as you can..i mean forever..i mean as long as we can, Can we stay with each other” he asked you in almost a whisper

“Are you—” you were about to ask when he looked at you in all seriousness.

“Y/n L/n, will you marry me?” you can’t keep the surprise in your face, you blushed deeply, it was weird for him to be this serious, but you’re not gonna lie you like this side of him too, you stared at him for a hot minute and cracked your sweetest smile.

“I thought you’d never ask”

The big doors cracked open, the music flowing, Bokuto stared as you walk to where he was, at the altar, waiting.

As the wedding goes on, it was finally time to say your vows, you looked at Koutaro who is now holding a microphone on his left hand and his right gripping into yours,

“Since the day I met you, I knew you were a special woman. And even though I suck at Literature,it will forever be my favorite subject that I ever enrolled in. From that day forward that I met you in that god forsaken class, I became a true believer that you do not find true love, but true love finds you.

You, more than anyone else, know my insecurities and weaknesses and still never make me feel inadequate. You have always loved me without reservations. You praise me in a way I never thought was possible and because of you, I am the best man I can be.

I cannot promise I will always be the perfect husband, but I promise to love you through the good times and bad. To choose our love every single day. I promise to always fight with you and for you, never against you. I promise to always be your biggest fan, confidant and best friend. I promise to remember we are not perfect—only perfect for each other. I promise to love you without hesitation or boundaries from this day forward, for the rest of my life.

Thank you for being the woman of my dreams and the best partner I could ever ask for. Thank you for being the pillar that my wacky soul has always needed and I will forever be your wings. Everything in me recognizes your heart as my home and your arms, my shelter.

You are my better half and very best friend. I will love you, honor you, respect and cherish you in sickness and health, through sorrows and success, for all the days of my life. I am forever yours."

You bit your lip to calm yourself from sobbing into his heartfelt words. You felt his love from every single thing that he spewed out. You were thankful to where you are now, you were thankful to god that gave you a man like Bokuto Koutaro to love you. As you dab away the heavy tears on your face and as clear your throat you tell him your vows in return.

“I want so badly to be able to explain all the love I have for you. Not the love of butterflies and stomach knots—but more the blurring of self and the entanglement with another soul. Love is a word that is much too soft and used far too often to ever describe the fierce, infinite and blazing passion that I have in my heart for you. You are a million dreams and a million prayers of a little girl come true. You are kind. You are silly. You are intelligent—in your own way. Your laugh is contagious and you can put away an entire ice cream cake in one sitting like nobody else can. You acknowledge my strengths and accept my faults. You make me want to be a better person every day. I take you as you are now, tomorrow and for eternity to come, to be my husband.

Even when the day comes that we're old and gray, I promise to always see you with the same eyes and the same heart that I see you with at this exact moment. So today, I vow to honor you and respect you, support you and encourage you. I promise to dream with you, celebrate with you, and walk beside you through whatever life brings. I vow to laugh with you and comfort you during times of joy and times of sorrow. I promise to always pursue you, to fight for you, and love you unconditionally and wholeheartedly for the rest of my life. You are my best friend and I'm the luckiest person on Earth to call you mine."

As you finished your vows you couldn’t help the cracking of your voice, you felt hot tears flow from your eyes, you looked at him as he wipes all of them away.

“Shhh..don’t cry, everyone might get the wrong idea” Koutaro told you as he dabbed on your face. You only chuckled at him, he’s far too precious and you’re lucky to be able to witness it.

“You’re the one getting the wrong idea Kou, these are happy tears. Finally we’re binded forever and always.” you smiled at him as the priest continues on the ceremony

“Forever and always” he whispered back at you as the two of you we’re slipping on your wedding rings.

The priest announced “I pronounce you man and wife, may you live long and build a happy life together.”

He kissed you as the cheers filled the room.

‘The Life’

“Kou!! Go and chase Kaori!!” you instructed your husband to follow your daughter as she ran around away from you. She’s so much like her father, in personality and in looks. You had her 3years ago, and now you would’ve chased her yourself if not for your heavy bulging stomach. You were 7 months in your second pregnancy and everything was hard to do. Thank god for Koutaro, even though he was busy because of his job as a professional athlete he always make sure to make time for you, he always comes home early and makes sure throughout the day that you’re feeling fine. At times he will bring your daughter along to work to lessen the things that you have to think about for the day.

Today was special, he took a day off to take the threeof you to the park. You were tired from playing with the two of them the whole day. So you decided that the three of you should rest a bit, but your child has other plans of her own as soon as you situated yourself on a bench she hopped off and ran. That was why you asked your husband to chase her off to bring her back. The two of them was now in your line of sight, you didn’t want to scold your daughter but, she was extremely hyper and you didn’t want her to trip and fall then hurt herself.

“Bokuto Kaori, you do not just go and run away, against mom’s request, what if you hurt yourself?” you asked her as gentle as you can, even so she still whimpered at you scolding her. She looked at you with big teary eyes.

“I’m so sowwy momma, I only went to go pick these flowers for you” she answered you as she took out three wildflowers from her back, you cooed at how sweet she was. You waved at her to come close and she did, you engulfed her in a loving embrace kissing her temples lightly,

“Aww thank you baby,” you looked up to see Koutaro surprisingly quiet. He was staring at the two of you, he was filled with love and he was grateful for the family you two built together.

“Can I join that hug?” he asked, you opened your arms as he rushed into them almost crushing your daughter in between. The three of you laughed while coddled like that. You looked up at the sky, thankfully smiling.

Gen Taglist open: @kitayawa @aruhappy

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miracle-sham · 3 years ago

Text

In the Atelier's Glow the Pupa Phoebus will Eclose.

| {Jasonette July 2021, Week 2, Day 10: Light} |

Chapter 2 of Sheltered by Darkness not yet Moths to the Flame.

———

| Even when everything you know splits. When it splinters and shifts, like a chrysalis or a damaged cable. And you're left unfurling your wings, unable to yet fly—circuit broken, fuse melted—grounded, earthed. |

| The rest of the world keeps the current flowing through the wires of everyone else's circuit wings, and they're able to keep fluttering, unfettered by your frayed and exposed wires, even despite the threat you pose to their safety. Too blinded by the luminescence of those with power. |

| Word Count: 7,220. |

| Warnings/Tags: Cyberpunk/Criminal/Gang Au, Explicit Language/Swearing, Hacking, Breaking and Entering, Mentions of Guns, Gun Violence, Mentions of corrupt/shady businesses, Gabriel Agreste's A+ Parenting, Brainwashing, Implied Brainwashing & Torture, Injury, Threats of Violence & Violence, Akumatised!Marinette, Fluff & Angst, Hurt with some Comfort, Angst With a Happy Ending, Gang/Team as family/family dynamics, Found Family. |

———

| A/N: First things first, make sure you've read the first chap before reading this. Second things second, this chapter is a chapter and half. And it's the final chapter! I hope this being 7k more than makes up for it being a day late to posting! I put a lot of love and time and effort into this, so I really hope you all enjoy. And for peak atmosphere, listen to Wonder World by Inova (first song on the playlist) during the first two parts, for optimum atmosphere! Not necessary if you'd prefer not to of course, but still. There's also a ton of light and butterfly symbolism stuffed in this, so try and see how much you can spot! |

| On a sidenote, this fic is dedicated to my friend Saf who listened to me ramble about this fic, and in turn rambled to me whenever I gave her sneak peak snippets. This wouldn't have ended up half as good as it did without her support! Also thanks to Weird for the support, compliments, reaction to the snippets, and kind words as well! And finally, thanks to everyone on the discord who was supportive and kind whenever I rambled in my author's channel! <3 |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

———

Even when everything you know splits. When it splinters and shifts, like a chrysalis or a damaged cable. And you're left unfurling your wings, unable to yet fly—circuit broken, fuse melted—grounded, earthed.

The rest of the world keeps the current flowing through the wires of everyone else's circuit wings, and they're able to keep fluttering, unfettered by your frayed and exposed wires, even despite the threat you pose to their safety. Too blinded by the luminescence of those with power.

Broken wires cause lights to flicker and dim. They don't glow as brightly as they could—as they should. They crackle and buzz and burn and scorch and smoke, causing only destruction; when light should only be used for creation.

That's why the Atelier Agreste specialise in fixing broken wings and wires. The brightness of tomorrow splinters the darkness of today, the business proclaims.

And Marinette Dupain-Cheng is merely the latest of the poor misguided larvae, with their shade-like masks and unfortunate frayed wires, to be rehabilitated into an enlightened pupa under Gabriel Agreste's watchful care.

Truly, the discarding of a mask that kept the Pupa in the dark, and the Pupa's embracement of the Atelier's radiant glow marks a wondrous occasion indeed.

How glorious it will be, an unveiling of the newest Atelier Agreste designer's début? The welcoming of a new Papillon among the ranks, especially one that shines so brightly. Phoebus, like the butterfly and the god of light. What a fitting name for the butterfly that will glow like the sun.

———

Marinette—no, not Marinette, she is Phoebus. She is light, and her glow has been fixed.

Stitch by stitch, she sews herself a collection of chrysalises. To represent her transformation that has been nurtured by the Atelier, Monsieur Agreste had said.

Stitch by stitch by stitch. She must make him proud, he's done so much for her. He saved her from the darkness, showed her the light and how to glow just as brightly herself. She owes him everything.

Stitch by stitch by stitch by stitch. Lila—no, Rubi, after Macrothylacia Rubi, the Fox Moth—visits sometimes. She's pretty, and likes to keep Phoebus company, telling her all about the incredible things Rubi has done and people Rubi has met. She's like Phoebus, taken in and nurtured by the Atelier Agreste. Phoebus hopes Rubi will be one of her chrysalis models.

Stitch. And anchor, and anchor, then up. Snip. Snip. Snip.

Phoebus hears the sound of the studio door opening but she does not stop. Her chrysalises must be perfect, she must finish them in time. Thread the needle and anchor.

Footsteps stride across the studio floor but still Phoebus does not stray her attention from her work. Stitch by stitch.

“Good morning, Pupa, I hope the final preparations for your début are going accordingly.” Monsieur Agreste greets.

Her hands still, work halting. The Pupa Phoebus turns away from the fashion piece before her, and smiles, as brightly as her namesake, up at him. “It is.”

There's a hollowness inside her. And smiling at him makes the hollowness ache but Phoebus does not know why. Monsieur Agreste does not like it when she asks bad-dark-broken-frayed questions like that, so she says nothing more and nothing less. She will be his perfect protégé. He said so, and so she must.

He nods approvingly. “Good. I expect only perfection from you and your work. Do not forget, once the fashion show starts it will mark your eclosion into my Atelier once and for all.”

The Pupa Phoebus nods her head, eyes shining almost too brightly in the studio's lights.“I will ensure everything is to perfection for my début.”

Her actions and words are as doll-like as her title. For she was once named Marinette, which is close to Marionette. Marionettes are dolls. And Pupa once meant doll. Like a doll, she is so painfully hollow inside. But like a doll, she is perfect. She must be.

Monsieur Agreste does not sneer at her but his lips curl in a way that makes the darkness inside her claim he is mocking her.

“The set designers have informed me the catwalk has been transformed into the river Lethe. Isn't it rather fitting?” He pauses, watching her with sharp eyes for her reaction.

She nods. That is what she is supposed to do. It is fitting because he has said so. And Monsieur Agreste is always right.

“After all,” he continues, seemingly satisfied with her response, “it was once believed that the dead may only be reincarnated upon drinking from the Lethe and giving up their memories. And you gave up your memories of pain to be reformed as a butterfly that will shine ever so brightly, my protégé.”

“Oh,” Phoebus responds, tilting her head to one side as her smile wavers for but a fraction of a second. There's something flickering in the back of her head, behind her eyes; splintered memories, nothing substantial but the ghosts—Fantômes, the darkness whispers—of them linger.

The taste of iron, harsh white lights, cold glowing white strands chaining her fragile wire wings to the ground, lights—so many dancing lights, and the sharp electric zaps. She shouldn't try to parse what they mean, what they herald. Remembering the Before is bad, when she was a poor unfortunate Larva who fell through the cracks into the shadows and gutters. She is a Pupa now, and Pupa change. They become better, brighter, than they ever could achieve as Larvae.

Monsieur Agreste picks up on her moment of lapse, his eyes narrowing in what must be concern. “Is something wrong, Pupa?”

Phoebus shakes her head. “I am just anticipating how my début will go.”

He hums, unconvinced.

Understandable—she is not meant to lie, not to him. It is not how a Pupa should act.

“Perhaps you should take a break so we can ensure you've not damaged your light by working so hard. It wouldn't do to have your glow flicker and dim mid-début.” Monsieur Agreste states, pulling his tablet out already to schedule a check-up.

The Pupa Phoebus widens her bright yet hollow smile. “Oh, that is a good idea! A break would be most appreciated, Monsieur Agreste!”

Monsieur Agreste does not laugh but he huffs in what must be amusement. “How unfortunate that it took so long to rescue and take you under my wing. You will do well as one of my Papillons here.” He pauses to adjust his glasses, the light shining on them in a way that makes the lenses appear opaque. “I didn't think I'd get another specimen such as yourself, so perfectly adapted for becoming a Pupa and then a Papillon.”

His not-sneer unfurls into a grin, one that makes the darkness whisper danger. He steps around her, to get a different angle view of her work, and stares pointedly at the fine detailing. “It is a great shame that my son and my nephew have both become wretched larvae like you once were, instead of wonderful Pupae like you've now become.”

“You deserve a better son and nephew, Monsieur Agreste.” Phoebus recites from the script burnt into her mind, though she does not remember when or why she memorised it.

“I do, don't I.” Monsieur Agreste considers in contempt. “That can easily be achieved as soon as my men rescue him from the clutches of those vile Larvae. We believe the ones who held you captive and forced you to work for them, are the same ones who hold both my son and nephew now.”

“Oh.” Phoebus responds, getting the feel that Monsieur Agreste is testing her. Perhaps to ensure no feelings of Stockholm Syndrome remain for her previous captors? Yes, that must be it. How thoughtful and caring of Monsieur Agreste. “That is awful, hopefully, they can be saved soon!”

Monsieur Agreste hums, seemingly in agreement this time. “Hopefully indeed. And once we rescue them, they can then be taught to embrace the radiance my company brings to this world, just as you were taught.”

He places a hand on her shoulder, and squeezes. “And you, my dear Pupa, can help my son and nephew stitch their Chrysalises. For they are both models, like Rubi. Wouldn't that be nice, two additional fellow Papillons for you to befriend, wouldn't that make you very happy?”

Phoebus nods at a perfectly acceptable speed to relay her happiness and excitement. “Yes! That would be wonderful! I would be so happy if that were to happen!”

And yet, the darkness inside her wails and grieves as she utters each word but Phoebus does not understand why.

“Good,” Monsieur Agreste states, “that is very good to hear. Now, I shall return when your break is ready.” He turns around and strides towards the door, stilling at the threshold. “My wife will prepare high tea for you to join her at, once your break is ready.”

The Pupa Phoebus nods, fingers twitching as she turns back to meticulously stitching her chrysalises. “Thank you, Monsieur Agreste, I cannot wait!”

He huffs in what must be amusement again, “I would hope so, Pupa.”

If she didn't know better, the Pupa Phoebus would wonder why the silver butterfly necklace feels more like shackles than a gift. Why the darkness begs her to break the chains.

———

Three months. Three fucking months. Of nothing. Not a whisper on the news or in the underground, no public proclamations of the capture of one of the co-leaders of the most notorious gangs in the city. Nothing, abso-fucking-lutely nothing. Three fucking months she's been gone and not a word about what happened.

Jason sits crouched on the sofa, head in his hands. A coffee is placed on the table in front of him, he can tell from the smell, and the sound of the liquid sloshing about inside the cardboard cup.

“Marinette used to like coffee…” Jason bemoans, half-serious, half-jokingly.

Something shatters in the next room over, the kitchen most likely from the sounds of it.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God. Jason!” Alix hiss-screeches, from the same place as the shattering, like an angry kitten on roller skates. “You've said that meme every day for the last month! I'm going to murder you!”

Adrien, who's been sitting on top of the side cabinets, throws his head forwards and barely manages to stifle the laugh by slapping a hand over his mouth. He wheezes for a few seconds as he gets his laughter, and breathing under control again.

Félix snorts from where he's curled up in a cushioned armchair. “Alix has a point, you know. We understand you miss her but as do we.”

“Shhh! You'll disturb him!” Roy shushes, grinning mischievously as he stands behind the sofa. Putting on his best David Attenborough impression, he begins to recite, “here we have the rare Jasonarches Toddamentum brooding in his natural habitat. Lamenting the loss of one of his pack, specifically his co-alpha—”

Jason whips around to face Roy and launches the nearest pillow from the sofa at him, before he can continue the mockumentary. “Co-alphas? Really? That's the best you could come up with! C'mon man!”

Yelping, Roy ducks but not quick enough as the pillow smacks him in the right shoulder and flops onto the floor.

Nodding mock sagely, Félix sighs. “We expected better from you, Roy.”

“Yeah, Roy.” Kori teases, passing a second coffee in her hands over to him.

Placing a hand over his heart, Roy gasps. “Wow! The betrayal!” he complains as he grabs at the coffee and cradles it to his chest with the other. “And thanks, Kori! For the coffee, not the betrayal!”

“Ah, friends?” Markov calls cautiously as he hovers into the room, anxiety lacing his robotic voice, claws fiddling with the corner of what looks to be an envelope.

Immediately the jovial atmosphere splinters and everyone stills. Everyone except Artemis and Alix who walk, and roll into the room respectively, at that precise moment. Both hovering by the respective door frames they entered through, coincidentally opposite each other. Artemis crosses her arms, whilst Alix grabs the door frame with one hand to steady herself.

Jason tenses and glances over at the little AI. “Everything okay, Markov?”

Markov fretfully swings his claw arm around. “One of our couriers was handed a letter.”

“Did they bring it here?” Jason questions, brows furrowing in worry.

Markov shakes his head. “The courier handed it to a third-party forger, and created the forgery I am now holding. It is addressed to Adrien, and Félix.”

Adrien sucks in a sharp breath, he turns to exchange a look with Félix. “You don't think it's…” He trails off, unwilling to say it out loud in case it makes it any more likely.

Grimacing, Félix nods. “It has to be. It was rather publicly known when you were "kidnapped",” he states, making quotation marks with his fingers as he stressed the word, “by this gang. Less so when you spearheaded my "kidnapping", with them.”

“Yeah… that's. We didn't think that through.” Adrien admits, scrunching his mouth up in concern. “But! If that didn't happen, I wouldn't have gotten to use Cheval Mallet as my vigilante name, which is a plus at least!”

Félix huffs bitterly. “Oh, because getting to use a vigilante name that fits thematically is completely and utterly worth getting targeted by the Big Butterfly himself?”

“In my defence—” Adrien starts, only to shut his mouth again as words fail him. “Nevermind, you've got a point.”

Jason clicks his tongue. “More importantly, we need to decide what we're doing about this.”

“We need to actually see what is inside the envelope, first.” Félix counters, marching over to Markov.

Markov dips in the air in lieu of a nod and extends his claw-arm to hand Félix the envelope. “Here you go, friend!”

“Thank you, Markov.” Félix responds, nodding his head to the little AI as he takes the extended envelope. He marches back over to Adrien and slips out the disguised knife pen out of his pocket, before carefully slicing the top of the envelope open like one would do with a letter opener. Plucking the letter from inside, he holds it at an angle so only he and Adrien can read what has been written.

Seconds pass.

Swearing under his breath, Adrien glances up at Jason with panic clear in his eyes. “It's… it's from Kagami. She's been compromised, the Big Butterfly knows she was in contact with us. He and her mother have forced her to invite us to the Big Butterfly's upcoming fashion show…”

“She's worried that it's a trap, to capture us both so that they can… do to us what they did to my mother, and all of his Papillons.” Félix continues in Adrien's stead, barely able to conceal the dawning horror on his face.

Artemis moves towards them and asks as softly as she can, brows furrowing in concern. “And what exactly, did they do to your mother?”

He swallows a breath of air thickly. “Adrien's mother went missing a few years ago. And so my mother and I visited Adrien and his sperm donor as we were all grieving. However, I started to notice things seemed off and before either of us realised, the Big Butterfly was parading my mother around in front of the news and media pretending she was her twin sister instead. Even at home, she started treating me like Adrien's mother had.”

“What the fuck! Are you saying the Big Butterfly brainwashed your mom?” Jason exclaims, eyes wide with a mixture of horror, disgust, and alarm.

“Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. The Big Butterfly brainwashed my mum into believing she was Aunt Emilie, purely so that he could keep appearances up in front of the cameras.” Félix confirms, hands balled into fists and shaking ever so slightly. “When Adrien got out and joined here, I stumbled across the Big Butterfly's plans to replace Adrien by doing the same to me. If you all hadn't helped me get out in time…” He chokes up, unable to get the next words out of his mouth.

“That is truly despicable. I'm sorry.” Artemis apologises, looking equally disturbed by the information.

“Shit.” Roy mutters, glancing between Félix and Adrien. “What do we do? We can't just let another innocent get fucking brainwashed!”

Kori purses her lips. “I think,” she starts, giving an understanding look at the two, “we should let Adrien and Félix decide. They are the most familiar with the Big Butterfly, this Kagami, and the situation as a whole.”

Clearing her throat, Alix roller skates a little closer to others. “Guys, you don't think…” she trails off, trying to find her words but also torn over whether saying it out loud will make it true, “you don't think that's what's happened to Marinette? It would explain why we've heard nothing from her or Roaar since she disappeared.”

“Holy fucking shit! I'm going to burn that fucking bastard and his fucking fashion show to the ground if he fucking dared!” Hisses Jason, his eyes flaring toxic green as the fury of the Lazarus Pit burns in his veins. He digs his nails into the fabric of the sofa and his lips curl into a near-frenzied snarl.

“Woah, woah! Jason, calm the fuck down! That might not be what's happened!” Roy intercepts, grabbing Jason by the shoulder.

Jason turns to glare at Roy. “But it also might be what happened to her!”

“We should go.” Adrien cuts in sharply, “Max can get the rest of you in via hacking. Félix and I will be the distraction, and I'll bring Kaalki so we have a quick escape in case things go wrong. Whilst everyone else who goes to the show needs to focus on getting Kagami out. Then once that's done, we can try and look for anything that suggests they've got Marinette. And if we find Marinette, we get her out as well.”

Félix nods. “That's a good enough plan for me.”

Smiling bitterly, Adrien tilts his head to one side. “So, who else is up for crashing the show?”

Kori, Roy, Artemis, and Alix all exchange glances before nodding.

“Max and I are in!” Markov pipes up, hovering up in a swing.

“That leaves, who's telling Luka, and Bizarro they're holding down the fort this time?” Jason mutters.

“Dibs not it!” Everyone but Artemis calls out.

She rolls her eyes at the antics of the others. “I will tell the two of them their roles for this mission. Don't worry.”

Jason hums. “We could also probably call in a favour with the Sparrow kid that you,” he nods towards Adrien, “and Marinette befriended. Not to hold down the fort but to help cover us at the fashion show?”

“Oh! I'm sure Sparrow will be more than happy to help! That's a great idea!” Adrien cheers, perking up slightly.

Moving over to the coffee table, Félix places the letter down in the centre. “Right. Let's get ourselves ready to crash a fashion show.”

———

Adrien and Félix both don a light disguise. One that's easy enough to recognise them on a closer inspection but subtle enough to not attract immediate attention.

The others, in heavier disguises, had arrived early and gotten in already—split between two teams. One with hacked tickets, and the other through breaking and entering, the gang's speciality. Sparrow had also been more than happy to help and had roped in a few others from their gang, the Quantic Kids, into helping watch the outside of the building.

Leaving Félix and Adrien to arrive together, separate from the rest of the gang; they make sure to arrive slightly late to try and avoid the worst of the crowds. Approaching the doors, they hand over their tickets and try to appear as nonchalant as possible.

The nearest android guard eyes their tickets and puts out a hand. “Wait.”

“Is there something wrong with our tickets, sir?” Félix asks, smiling sweetly enough to hide the undercurrent of threat.

The android guard nods their head at another then looks the two up and down in a scrutinising—analysing fashion. “We have explicit orders to escort anyone with these tickets to the seats.”

Adrien grimaces. “Understood, lead the way then.”

The android guards exchange nods once more, then the one slightly further away pulls out a radio and starts quietly reporting into it, too low for either Félix or Adrien to catch anything. Useful or otherwise.

“Follow me.” Says the nearer one as they start walking away.

Félix sighs and lightly knocks shoulders with Adrien as a reminder of solidarity as well as to get ready. Waiting for only a second, they both start following after the guard. Félix adjusts the secret mic and camera attached to his tie, ensuring that it was now transmitting its feed to Max and Markov, as well as Luka back at base.

Next to him, Adrien does the same with his own tie and attached secret mic and camera.

They're led down a few hallways, up a couple of winding staircases, and down a few more hallways before the guard stops outside a door with a metal sign on it reading: Private.

“Your seats are through here.” The android guard says, slotting a keycard into the door, causing a glowing keypad panel to open up in the centre. Then, the android guard scans a digital code into the door and the door swings open before it.

Adrien nods to the android guard and tugs Félix after him as he strides across the threshold, head held high.

There's a shriek, as they pass through the door, and a body slams into Adrien and it's only thanks to his vigilante instincts that he doesn't drop the body.

“Oh, Adrikins!” Chloé cries out, hugging him tightly. “I can't believe you're back!” She lets go of him for a second to step back and check out his outfit. “Urgh, you could do with some better clothes though. It's fine,” she says, waving a hand, “after today's show we can go on a shopping trip together!”

Adrien smiles awkwardly and unconvincingly responds, “yeah… it's nice to see you again too, Chloé.”

Félix, the traitor, snickers at Adrien's predicament and steps around the two to fully enter the room. The android guard does not follow, and the door shuts automatically behind them.

Inside, is a private bar and lounge with double doors on the far wall, opposite the 'Private' entry door.

Kagami glances up from her place from the sofa against the wall with the double doors. She raises an eyebrow. “It is good to see that you made it here safely.”

“As safe as we could.” Félix grunts, delicately dropping into the seat next to her on the sofa.

She hums, tuning out Chloé's screeching with practised ease. “How are the horse-related magic tricks you were working on going?”

“Pretty well, though I don't suppose Father will be all too pleased with the one I plan to practise tonight,” Félix responds.

Kagami relaxes her shoulders in relief for a split second. “Oh? And what sort of magic trick is it?”

“I've dubbed it: Call a Key. And it's like those pull a rabbit from a hat tricks but with a horse from a hoop.” He says, drawing a circle in the air. A circle that just so happens to be the same size and shape as Kaalki's average portals.

“I see,” Kagami says, nodding, “well, perhaps after tonight's show, you won't mind showing me it so far?”

Félix grins, “I'd love to, Kagami.”

Their conversation lulls into silence, so Félix hops off the sofa and goes over to the private bar to fix himself and Adrien some drinks. Seeing as Chloé was showing no signs of letting his cousin go at the moment. A potential hazard for the plan, he worries. With drinks in hand, he rejoins Kagami by the sofa.

An announcement rings out over the loudspeakers on the walls as the double doors swing open in a slow and controlled manner.

“That, is our cue that the show will be starting soon,” Kagami mutters to him. She takes a deep breath and raises her voice, “Chloé, Adrien, it is time we take our seats for the show.”

Chloé squeals, forcefully dragging Adrien across the private lounge and through onto the balcony where their booth seats are.

Sighing, Félix follows after the two with Kagami a few steps behind him.

“Oh, I'm so glad you managed to make it to today's fashion show, Adrikins!” Chloé exclaims, clutching at Adrien's arm like a hawk and gesturing wildly with the other. “It's so nice of your daddy to hold this show in the theatre so we could have a private booth together to watch the show! And it's going to be a really special show from what I've overheard, Gabriel's débuting a new and upcoming fashion designer! Isn't that so exciting, I'm sure your daddy will let you model for them now that you're back! After all,” she scoffs, “he's letting that peasant fox model for the designer today.”

“Is that so?” Adrien responds, glancing at Félix with deep-seated worry etched into his stare.

Félix clenches his fists and takes a deep breath.

Frowning, Kagami taps Félix on the arm and sends him a questioning glance.

“We'll explain it later.” He mumbles quietly enough for her to just hear.

Below them, the sounds of people taking their seats echoes. A few minutes pass, Félix and Kagami make minor small talk whilst Adrien is forced to listen to Chloé prattle on.

The main lights dim and then go out, plunging the room into darkness. The curtains rise, from the sounds of the heavy and large swathes of fabric moving on the pulleys.

Classical music starts playing—not unlike the music Adrien used to learn on the piano. And one by one, the lights in the shape of asphodels flicker to life on the stage, illuminating a sea of the flowers surrounding a catwalk designed like a river carving through the land. White marble Greco-Esque pillars and arches litter the flower fields. Framing the scene, is the blank white wall at the back of the catwalk and stage. The lighting shifts to cast spotlights on the wall behind the catwalk.

Félix tunes out the rest of the show starting, instead putting all his focus in searching for any security watching their booth, as well as for any sign of Marinette.

The show continues on, slowly models wearing pieces designed like asphodels, butterflies, and cocoons or chrysalises strut up and down the catwalk. The spotlights follow them, making the pieces and models appear to glow under the light.

Luckily, there's no obvious security paying attention to their booth. But that doesn't mean they're in the clear, for all they know, Gabriel could have bugged the place to the rafters. They had worked out before entering, that they'd have to leave before the end of the show. Otherwise, they'd most likely be captured and brainwashed just like Félix's mum.

A new announcement from the stage gives both Adrien and Félix pause, neither having fully caught what was said other than mentions of the reveal of the designer. They tense and try to hide the signs of their anxious anticipation. The flickering flame of hope in their chests threatens to extinguish from the worry that this could be what they feared it to be.

The lights and spotlights on stage all dim; whilst the music fades to a quieter volume. The almost deafening echoing clack-clack-clack of heels against the catwalk seems so much louder than when the models in heels had been walking across it.

Félix holds his breath and clasps his hands together tightly. Adrien leans forwards to get a better look over at the stage. They should be nudging Kagami and getting ready to go by now but they can't will themselves to look away. Like a tragedy; a car catching fire and about to crash.

A figure in a chrysalis dress steps onto the catwalk. Step by step by step, they slowly walk to the end of the catwalk. The faint glow of the lights still perfectly illuminates the figure's face though.

And Adrien's heart stops. “No!”

“What? Is that—?” Chloé starts, only to be interrupted by the cacophonous roar of a standing ovation from the rest of the audience.

Félix, Adrien, and Kagami all pale in horror.

“That's… that's Marinette.” Kagami whispers to Félix, her panic thinly veiled.

Stiffly, Félix nods and swallows a breath of air thickly. “So. Minor change of plans.”

“I can see why.” Kagami responds automatically, in horror.

On the catwalk below, the dress shimmers and appears to crack. Shadowy mist seeping from the cracks is followed by a blinding glow eviscerating the darkness. From the cracks, the outer layers of the dress splinter away, and the layers below begin to unfurl. Bright white, beautiful butterfly wings edged with black and the odd symmetrical red spots.

Gabriel Agreste, Papillon, joins her on the stage. “Isn't this such a momentous and wonderful occasion? Tonight, we have witnessed the eclosion of a new Papillon within the Atelier Agreste. And I'm delighted by the bright welcome Phoebus has received.”

At the call of her Papillon name, Phoebus bows.

Félix's heartbeat pounds in his ears, nearly drowning out Gabriel's words.

Before he, or Adrien, can react, there's a buzzing in his ear from the disguised earpiece comms.

“Félix. Adrien. Get Kagami and get out! Now!” Max's voice filters through, “they're sending a reinforcement of guards towards your location. I'll try to hack them but it'll be close!”

Standing abruptly, Adrien yanks himself away from Chloé's death grip.

“Wha—Adrikins!” She protests, still too shocked by the revelation of the new designer having been Marinette, to try and stop him.

Adrien backs away into the private lounge, flushing red with embarrassment. “Sorry Chloé, I-uh… need to use the men's room. Be-right-back!”

He turns heel and makes his way over to the opposite door and yanks it open.

Félix stares at Adrien in disbelief before nodding at Kagami and grabbing her by the arm. He does not so much run, as speed walk after Adrien.

The second all three of them are clear of the private door's threshold, Kagami kicks her foot back to shut the door behind them. The three then start sprinting down the halls.

The hidden earpiece crackles again. “You three and Jason are the nearest to the backstage where Marinette will be soon. I'll lead the four of you towards the location, just follow my directions and don't do anything stupid once Jason joins you.”

“No promises,” Adrien mutters in response. “I'm seriously considering committing patricide at this point.”

Max doesn't immediately respond, presumably having switched channels to help deal with the others, or get out himself.

Less than a minute later, the earpiece crackles again, but this time it's Luka who starts relaying the directions to the backstage whilst keeping them updated on both human and android guards as well as security camera positions.

“You're halfway there, Jason should be just through the third door on the right.” Luka informs, sounding calm but they know him too well to not hear the veneer of fury beneath every word.

Adrien yanks open the third door on the right open, and lo and behold, Jason is sprinting past the open door in the corridor it leads to.

“Wait up!” Félix hisses after Jason.

It seems Jason manages to hear him and skids on the balls of his steel-toed boots, scratching up the wooden flooring, to stare at them with his green eyes blazing. “Alix was fucking right.” He bites out.

“We are coming with you, to save her.” Kagami states, looking equally furious.

Jason cocks his head to the side. “Then c'mon, we need to run.”

The four exchange nods and glances and burst into a sprint down the hallway, following Luka's directions.

Direction after direction after direction. It feels like Luka relays to them hundreds of those endless directions before the four of them reach a long hallway with double doors at the end that has a large sign above it, labelled: Backstage.

Skidding to a stop again, Jason holds out an arm to stop the others as well. “As much as I want to run in, laser guns a-blazin', who knows what kinda fucking security shit they've got ready for us.”

Adrien grimaces. “But they knew we didn't know that they have Marinette. So why would they prepare security for us rescuing her when they're trying to capture us?”

“Have you forgotten how much security the Big Butterfly placed around my mother, after brainwashing her? Public spectacles like this always involve far too much security around the shining star of the show!” Félix spits acerbically, fists shaking, breathing shallow.

Adrien places a hand on his shoulder. “Worst case situation, we can get Kaalki to get us out and we can try and rescue Marinette another time.”

Jason scowls. “If we're forced to do that, I want to shoot that fucker's skull in first.”

“Technically, shouldn't Adrien get right of shooting him before you?” Kagami asks, half-smiling that awkward smile of hers.

Huffing, Jason nods to Adrien. “Fine, but I dibs second shot then. And if you go for the skull, I'm shooting that bastard in the fucking dick.”

Adrien makes a choking noise and doubles over, barely managing to stifle his laughter. He takes a few deep breaths and wipes tears away from his eyes. “Deal!” He wheezes, “please, I'd like nothing more than for you to get the second shot and do that!”

“Good fucking choice,” Jason mutters in response, a cheeky grin crossing his face for but a second before it falls back to the furious snarl. “Now, let's see what's behind the doors and get our anthill tiger back!”

The earpieces Jason, Félix, and Adrien are wearing, buzz again. “Might want to hurry up.” Luka smoothly informs. “Three human guards are coming your way. And as far as Max can see through his hacking, there's no android guards or drones backstage.” He pauses, “the rest of our gang won't be able to reach you four in time, neither will Sparrow's. You're going solo.”

The four exchange quick glances among themselves. “That's a risk we're willing to take if it means getting Marinette back.”

“I'll keep you updated on any changes. Break a leg or three, especially try to break the Big Butterfly's legs if you can.” Luka responds.

Jason snorts. “We'll try our best.”

The channel goes silent, as Jason quietly opens the backstage doors and the four of them sneak through.

———

The show has ended, by the time the four of them arrive through the backstage doors. Jason spots a rack of clothes and gestures to the others to follow him as he creeps over to hide behind it.

She's there. Marinette—or Phoebus, as the Big Butterfly had called her. There in the centre of the backstage. Standing stock-still. Still dressed in that fucking chrysalis—butterfly dress. Like a creepy human-sized doll.

Jason focuses on his breathing, in and out, in and out, in and out. Trying not to let the sickly radioactive green flood his vision and veins.

He freezes as he watches the Big Butterfly himself stride up to her and circle her like a vulture.

“You did very well today, Phoebus.” The Big Butterfly says, with a sneer on his face. “Unfortunately, my son and Nephew have so rudely absconded from their booth before the show ended.”

The Papillon Phoebus dips her head, and ever so hollowly sounding, replies, “that is most unfortunate.”

It takes all Jason's concentration to not be sick at how empty she sounds and acts. He glances at the others and Kagami, Adrien, and Félix all look sickened by the sight.

The Big Butterfly's sneer morphs into a scowl. “It is indeed. However, Mademoiselle Bourgeois was able to inform us of something very interesting.”

Tilting her head to one side, the Papillon Phoebus stares blankly at him. “Oh?”

“Apparently, my son had quite the reaction to the sight of you on stage, my Papillon. Isn't that interesting.” The Big Butterfly taunts.

She blinks at him then nods slowly and stiffly. “Yes. That is very interesting, Monsieur Agreste.”

His scowl curls into a victorious sneer. “That's what I thought, my dear Papillon.”

Jason shakes, he can't watch any more of this fucking creepy-ass bastard messing with his gang co-leader. He whips both of his recently upgraded guns from their holsters and grips the handles with whitening knuckles.

Before the others can think to stop him, Jason dives out of cover and shoots his twin guns. Pew-pew!

The laser bolts slam into the back of the Big Butterfly, frying two circles into his suit and melting the material to his skin.

The Big Butterfly screams in pain and fury. He pivots in place to turn and glare at where the shots had come from. The light flashes across his glasses again, making the lenses appear opaque. As his gaze latches onto Jason, his victorious sneer splits and twists and unfurls into a monstrous smirk. He starts to laugh, like poison bubbling and frothing from his lips.

And as the Big Butterfly does, Jason catches sight of the glint of small purple flapping around the Papillon Phoebus'—Marinette's—neck.

The bubbling and frothing poison of an Akuma's transformation swirls around her, staining every speck of her and forming a glimmering chrysalis once more.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Jason chants under his breath. Eyes wide with instant regret, he taps his earpiece. “We fucked up! Holy fucking shit, we fucked up!”

“What?!” Comes the frantic response from Luka. “What do you mean? What's happened? What did you do?”

Jason laughs nervously, “she's an Akuma! She's been fucking akumatised.”

“Hold on as long as possible, the others got swarmed by guards and can't reach you yet.” Luka frets.

At that, Kagami, Adrien, and Félix all burst out from behind the clothes rack, each with laser pistols also in hand. Zap-zap-zap.

The three more shots ring out but only one hits, Adrien and Félix both shaking too much for theirs to land.

“We shall try.” Félix responds to Luka.

The chrysalis-Akuma-poison coalesces around the Papillon Phoebus before cracking and dripping away. Revealing two large butterfly wings exactly like the dress. Phoebus wings. She flutters her wings and begins to float a metre or so above the ground.

“Fuck!” Jason curses, and behind him he can hear the other three echoing the sentiment. He stares at the purple butterfly chain around her throat. “Akuma is in the necklace!”

A bright light, not dissimilar to a flashbang, pops off. Immediately blinding all four of them.

“Capture them!” The Big Butterfly orders.

Kagami yelps.

The blindness caused by the light fades, and Adrien gasps. Jason swears under his breath again, and he and Félix both fire off more shots. This time towards the Akuma object, as the Big Butterfly has vanished.

Cocooned to the ground, Kagami squirms, trying to free herself from the Akuma's trap.

“Fucking shit!” Jason helpfully says on the earpiece channel. “She's trying to fucking capture us for the fucking bastard! And he's disappeared!” He bodily throws himself to the ground to dodge a mote of brilliant radiance lancing towards him.

The Papillon Phoebus tilts her head to the side, wings glittering with bright golden light like her namesake. Safely blocking the laser blasts towards her object with her massive wings.

Thankfully, only one of Kagami's hands is trapped. And not the one with the gun. As quietly as possible, she shoots the gun to slice through the cocoon and free herself.

The wings start to glow brighter and brighter and brighter.

“Flashbang!” Jason yells, diving behind cover in the form of a cluster of mannequins and slapping a hand over his eyes.

Kagami grabs Adrien and the two duck behind a different rack of clothes. Whilst Félix leaps over a stack of boxes and hides there.

The radiance flares once more, but fails to blind any of them.

“We need to shoot the object. I'll draw the attention at the front. Kagami, get behind and get ready to shoot her in the back as a distraction. Adrien and Félix, you two flank her on opposite sides.” Jason plans quietly into the earpiece channel.

Jason leaves his hiding spot first, vaulting over the cluster of mannequins and shoots a laser bolt at the Papillon Phoebus' necklace again. It's blocked by the wings, as to be expected.

Félix leaps back over the stack of boxes and flanks the Papillon Phoebus on the right. Whilst Adrien rolls out from behind the clothes rack and flanks on the left.

The three in position, shoot simultaneously at the Akuma, as to distract her.

Kagami bolts from her hiding spot and flanks behind the Papillon Phoebus.

The wings start to flutter and glow brighter once more.

“Now!” Jason yells.

Zap!

The blast slams into the Papillon Phoebus' back, right between where her wings connect to her shoulder blades. Instinctively she splays her wings out in pain and curls backwards.

Zap-zap!

Two more blasts slam into her, one in each wingtip.

Zap!

Finally, Jason shoots last and his aim is true. Crackle-snap!

The blast sears through the chain necklace, warping the metal and snapping it in twain.

The two parts of the object clatter to the ground and a purple butterfly claws itself out from the broken chains.

Jason spins his gun in his hand and shoots a final laser straight through the moth. Burning a perfect hole through its wings and killing it instantly. Purple Akuma-goop leaks from its injuries and then fades, leaving behind the scorched corpse of what was once a white butterfly.

He sighs in relief, and quickly taps his earpiece. “Akuma dealt with.”

As he says that, the Akuma de-transforms midair and Marinette collapses to the ground. Limp, like a puppet with their strings cut or a discarded doll—a cracked Pupa.

“Thank fuck.” Luka's responds over the channel, sounding tired.

Jason drags a hand down his face. The green poisoning his vision dissipates for the time being, and he hurries over to Marinette. Ever so carefully, he scoops her into his arms—bridal style—and pulls her close to his chest.

Kagami drops to her knees and breathes.

Adrien weakly punches the air with his gun in hand. “Wooh! Luka, we're calling a key home. Disable security please?”

Félix snorts, moving back to lean against the stack of boxes.

“No need, there's no security cameras backstage. I'll hear your songs when you back at base.” Luka relays, tone light with happiness and relief despite the tiredness. “The others have dealt with the guards, so they're on their way back too.”

Adrien transforms with Kaalki, becoming Cheval Mallet. He walks over to Kagami and offers her a hand. Félix, and Jason with Marinette unconscious in his arms join them.

The portal opens up before them, and they walk through together. Today, they've won another battle. Tomorrow they'll try to find out what has been done to Marinette. But tonight, tonight all the conscious members of the gang huddle together in the lounge. And among themselves, they build a pillow and blanket fort, and relax.

They're all together, and they're all safe, for once.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

| So title dissection, Atelier meaning Fashion Studio comes from the Latin "Astula" meaning "Splinter", Astula also is the Genus for the flower Asphodel. Phoebus as mentioned in the fic is the god of light but it also means "Bright". Eclose is the leaving of a cocoon/chrysalis. Pupa is another term for cocoon/chrysalis when the butterfly/moth becomes soup and goes through metamorphosis. But it also comes from the Latin meaning Girl or Doll. So In the Fashion Studio's Glow, the Bright/Light Doll will be Released. |

| Fun Fact: Larva/Larvae mean Mask or Ghost in Latin. Also the suffix "Arches" means Leader/Ruler. So Jasonarches means Jason-Leader :3 |

| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I'll be more than happy to answer! |

| @jasonette-july-event |

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katherinewilliams221b · 4 years ago

Text

For A Greater Good 12/18

gif not mine, just the text. Appare Vestigium

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order, joins Durmstrang’s staff at Dumbledore’s request. Her mission? Find a Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc/mc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

[Part 11]

–

Kate felt the coolness of the night on her lips and decided to enter the castle again. A chill ran through her body and had nothing to do with the icy breeze that crossed the threshold of the door behind her.

She folded all the scrolls as best she could and slipped them into the inside pocket where her notebook was before she started walking back to her room.

She climbed the main stairs slower than usual; many thoughts came into her mind: the danger that lurked in the recesses of the castle; the responsibility she felt to keep her students safe from a potential killer; the idea of Igor Karkarov wandering around the place even though no one had seen him; the goal of finding a secret room that only two people knew about: one had been dead for several centuries and the other was a serial killer in prison.

Overwhelmed by not knowing what her next step should be, she stopped on the first floor and gripped the staircase railing. She took a couple of deep breaths and looked down.

A shadow quickly crept down the corridor on the lower floor, but before it could disappear, it stopped short.

Candlelight showed Kent Jorgensen’s face changing from an alarmed expression to one of surprise. Kate bowed her head in greeting and hurried off towards the top of the building. She had no intention of engaging in a conversation with anyone in the castle.

She was about to reach the first floor when she saw Jorgensen again at the foot of the stairs. Her heart was racing.

She couldn’t think of anything else but hiding, so she followed her instinct and turned the corner before bending over, letting the shadows do the rest of the work. She saw the teacher looking at the place where she had been a few seconds earlier and followed a corridor in the opposite direction.

Kate let go of the breath she was holding and ran to the safety of her room. She placed her chair under the doorknob and immediately felt like an idiot. She had felt watched before, but the accumulation of things that had been happening to her since she arrived had finally had the expected effect.

Without thinking, she grabbed the quill and a scroll and, standing up, began to write,

Dear Charlie,

For the first time… I felt fear.

She returned the quill to the inkwell and crumpled up what was going to be a letter and threw it on the floor. She sat down on the bed and went over her notes.

She jumped to her feet again, remembering that she had to prepare the greenhouse activity for the lesson.

In the days that followed, many questions remained unanswered; who was waiting in the woods? Someone from the castle? It was a man, that was clear. When did she have to go? The note did not specify a specific time. How long did she have to wait for that person to contact her? Would anyone contact her at all?

Her students noticed her absence and took advantage of her distracted mind to get out of some responsibilities and leave greenhouse chores unattended. If Professor Williams was not aware of it or simply overlooked it, they did not know.

Kate visited Corentin to distract herself from Dumbledore’s map, but her spirits fell when she remembered that she had to investigate Nerida Vulchanova’s plans.

When Corentin laid them out before her, she almost decided to drop the whole thing. He didn’t exaggerate when he said that only Vulcanova knew how to move through the tunnels. The blueprints of the building were composed of twelve scrolls, four had symbols and numbers, four contained fragments of rooms, and the rest showed each floor of the castle.

“How do you know this is belongs here?” She said holding a blank scroll except for a small triangle in one corner.

“I have no idea. It was on top of the others. It could be anything….”

Kate inspected the first document, marked “the ground floor” of the building. She smiled a little and held the scroll up to her nose.

“I like the way it smells. Sweet.” Corentin raised an eyebrow at the comment and sat down next to her.

“I know there is one in this room. But it only connects to the first floor of the library,” he said, pointing to the circle representing the tower where they were, “Sometimes I use it to surprise first graders.”

She turned the paper to place the library drawing in front of her, and Corentin pointed at the symbol of a staircase.

“Where is it?”

“Right behind my desk. Behind the curtain.”

Kate held the map of the ground floor and followed the librarian to his desk. He pulled back the curtain, and they heard a faint sound of chains as the wall opened. A torch lit up the interior.

“That staircase leads to section C on the first floor.”

Kate entered the narrow nook and found that to her left was a staircase that led to the upper floor. To her right, there was only one wall.

“Tsk. I need the other scroll perhaps… or… I better go now. I have to grade some assignments, clean up the greenhouse, go to class, meet with Rhode, and go to…”

They had come back to the table while Kate was talking and started to collect the scrolls. She decided not to comment on the cryptic message Dumbledore had sent her.

She considered telling the headmistress in case she thought she knew the person she had to trust in the forest.

Could it be Corentin? No, he wasn’t the kind of person to hang out with a man like Dumbledore.

“What a tight schedule.” Kate took a deep breath and let the air out heavily.

“Yes… and now this…” She gasped and looked at Corentin with round eyes “And the AEDA! I must check the list…”

The librarian grimaced at her tone of voice, but was reassuring in his speech.

“We don’t have to do this…”

“Yes. I must. I have the impression that someone is also looking for Grindelwald’s room. We are not the only ones who know about the existence of the passages.”

Kent Jorgensen and his evening walks, Mer Yankelevich and her mysterious affairs that Libor Marek knew about, Leron Angelov and his entrance to the greenhouse, all the hours when no one knew anything about Cassandra Steiner…

Any of them could be looking for that room. Any of them could be a Death Eater.

“I’ll keep them safe.” he said, pressing the scrolls to his chest.

Kate said goodbye to Corentin and went to Class 82 to pick up the list she had hung for her students to write their names on.

“I hope they have an idea of what to do…” she said to herself before arriving.

She passed by Grindelwald’s column, now surrounded by a magic barrier to prevent it from collapsing through the crack, and continued on to the classroom.

Before entering, she saw two guards talking at a shift change in front of the lake. She hurried to pick up the scroll hanging on the other side of the door and read the names on it. Micael Angelov was the first on the list, followed by only two other students. Perhaps they could consider working together.

She went to the desk and after leaving the list on the table; she took the scrolls out of the top drawer and set about correcting their writing. She had an hour before the herbology class started.

Kate raced against time and ran to the other side of the castle on her way to the greenhouse, in vain, as she did not manage to get there in time.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” She exclaimed as she walked to the end of the central table. She left the scrolls on top of the wood.

“Professor Williams, you’re not wearing your overalls!” exclaimed a boy as he pointed his finger at her.

“You’re absolutely right, Jon, but you’re going to have to turn a blind eye for a moment. These are your essays.” As she said this, everyone got up to find theirs and Kate slipped into the wardrobe to put on her work clothes.

The sound of papers crumpling up under her cape reminded her of the many things she had to do after that class. Dumbledore’s map was burning in her pocket.

“I’ve made a list of the mistakes that have been repeated the most. I want to start by doing the transplant exercise again…”

Several grunts showed their dissatisfaction. She heard some murmurs saying things like “we’ve done that a thousand times already”, “it’s boring” or “we haven’t done anything else lately”.

“Do you want to do something different today?” Kate asked, resting her hip on the table. “Do you have something in mind?” Nobody answered. Kate observed how they looked at each other. With a gentle but decisive clap she said, “Get your garden shears. We’re going into the woods.”

Like a mother duck and her ducklings, Kate took her students across the bridge to the entrance of the forest. It benefits us all; she thought, to convince herself that she was not making a serious mistake.

“Alright,” Everyone crowded around her so they could hear what she was saying. “Rules: you can’t go to the lake or back to the castle without me knowing about it.”

She turned to point out the path into the forest. “You may follow the path and move away a little as long as you do not lose sight of the castle, the path, or any of your companions. If you move away, I will know.”

A little lie that served to make more than one of them look down.

“What we are going to do is this… do you have all your books?” They shook them or lifted in confirmation.

“Perfect. Let’s do what every good herbologist does: an herbarium. An herbarium is a collection of plants and flowers that are kept after they are dried, with information that identifies them. Today we must do the important part, the collection. I have brought the only basket that we own, I need someone to carry it”.

They looked around, pretending to admire the landscape so as not to be chosen to carry the basket. Michael Angelov reached out to grab it.

“Brilliant. Thank you, Michael. You have your scissors and the book to remember how to cut a plant properly. Cut a maximum of two herbs each. Be respectful of the forest and don’t abuse it. I trust you. Come on, go play”.

Nervous, but still determined to stick to that makeshift plan, Kate looked for Dumbledore’s map in her pocket. She followed the path and went into the woods.

With each step, the laughter and footsteps of her students faded away. Following the line indicated on the map, there came a moment when only her own steps could be heard. A turn to the right, a jump over a fallen log, and a few more steps led her to a clearing. The line on the map did not advance in any other direction.

The wind suddenly picked up and Kate put her hand to her chest and covered her throat with her robes. She looked up. The treetops swayed above her. They were really tall. A strange thing for the climate of the area. She took a few steps to the nearest tree and placed her hand on the wood.

The entire tree vibrated, and a golden glow surrounded it for a second. Kate smiled. They were protected with magic, a rare technique given their difficulty in execution, but if done correctly, entire areas of vegetation could be preserved for centuries.

She glanced around, looking for signs that someone had been there, but did not notice anything out of the ordinary.

Drawing out her wand, she mumbled, “homenum revelio”, but only the wind appeared.

She took a deep breath and twisted the wand slightly to prepare for the next spell. It was time to demonstrate that she had been paying attention to Charlie’s tracking lessons, and that she hadn’t just stood by and stared at him.

“Appare vestigium.“

A golden swirl came out of her wand, illuminating the area. Several scenes were played in front of her: Kent Jorgensen transforming into a hawk, a hooded figure talking to Leron Angelov, Cassandra running, Mer Yankelevich looking around, Libor Marek casting a spell, footprints of…

A creak of branches alerted her.

She stood still where she was and looked around, trying to make as little noise as possible. All she could hear was her breathing and the whistling of the wind through the leaves. She saw a glint in the branches and held her breath. A centaur appeared from among the trees.

Keeping her eye on the arrow that was pointing at her, Kate raised her arms, showing the map and wand. She did not look away from the weapon; she knew a herd surrounded her. There was no need to check.

Would he be the one Dumbledore wanted her to trust? Slowly she bent down and left both the wand and the map on the ground.

The centaur pulled the string of his bow, and Kate gasped.

“There are children in the forest! And they are my responsibility. I’m looking for someone, I don’t want any trouble,” she said hurriedly, fearing the worst. She resisted the urge to grab her wand because that would be digging her own grave.

The arrow shot out before she knew it, hitting the target effectively. Kate pressed her eyes closed instinctively.

But the pain never came.

She looked down and saw it stuck in the ground. A scroll was wrapped around it. When she looked up, the centaur was gone. She bent down to pick up the scroll and unrolled it.

Find the room and the names. There is not just one mark.

Nerida had more than one profession.

Do not return. We will not meet.

You can tell this person is a friend of Dumbledore’s, she thought.

She didn’t dare touch the arrow, so she left it where it was and set off to return to her students. She dawdled her way to the children, a little afraid of another reunion with the centaurs. She knew that they avoided humans at all costs and that this time they were just messengers, but the thought of endangering the students gave her goosebumps. She heard laughter and people talking, but before returning to them, she held Dumbledore’s map and the stranger’s note and with a wave of her wand, set them on fire.

“Professor Williams? Professor Williams!”

Kate shot out, waving her wand in the scream’s direction and found one of her students, Vivien, waiting for her to arrive. The smile on her face reassured her.

“Professor Williams, look!”

Kate mentally counted all the children who had arrived when she heard Vivien’s voice and found that no one was missing. They walked to a tree that was thicker than the rest and, with a little more inspection, Kate discovered what Vivien wanted to show her.

“Oh! Umbrella flowers!” Three small umbrella-shaped flowers floated near the tree and swayed slightly in the breeze. Two of them were pink, the other was yellow. “These are beautiful! Very good find, Vivien.”

“They look like mushrooms…” said Jon Hopkins.

“It’s a very interesting comparison because… Look inside, they have some small capsules where they keep spores. They are not reproductive, they are responsible for floating.” She turned away so they could look inside the flowers. “These are tiny, but they can be the same size as you. The cover that gives them their name protects them from heavy rain and cold.”

“They are a bit boring. In the book it says that there are plants that have fangs or claws. What do these do?” commented another student. Kate stood there thoughtfully, reproducing in her head the image of clawed umbrella flowers, and a laugh escaped her lips.

“Well, don’t you think it’s enough that they fly? If they also had teeth that would be…” She gasped, “What a great idea you just had, Ivan!” They shared some puzzled looks before looking at Kate as if she had just gone mad.

“What if I told you it might be possible… to make them have teeth?” He let them mutter to each other before going on, “it could be our project for AEDA. I’ve seen fanged geranium seeds in the greenhouse. We could try…”

“You mean…” started Micael Angelov “crossing the two species?”

“Yes. Exactly that. I’ve never done it, it could be fun, what do you think? Does anyone else want to participate?”

Kate approached the flowers and asked Vivien to borrow her scissors. With great care, she cut a strand that was growing from the inside and gave the tool back to her student. “This will be enough.”

Michael extended the basket for her to examine.

“Very good collection. Let’s see what’s in here… wolf’s bane! Interesting. This looks like wild celery… and these I don’t know. Brilliant! We already have a lot to do.”

They discussed it animatedly together on the way to the castle and Kate used their good humour to remind them that even if they had this project in hand, they would not be spared from practising transplanting between pots. The last stretch was filled with grunts and laughter from Kate.

The next day, Kate met with Corentin again, with all the intention of telling him about her escape to the forest and the information she was presented there.

The librarian received her with his own good news.

“I have found it.” He said with excitement. “Follow me. Last night I couldn’t stop thinking about…you know…so I began studying the blueprints.”

They gathered at their usual small table, away from prying eyes. Corentin pointed to the scroll.

“Here is the library, the duelling classroom, the charms classroom, the hospital wing…” He pointed at each of the rooms on the ground floor until he reached the trophy room. He moved his finger back a little and waited for Kate’s reaction.

She looked at him and shook her head. “There’s nothing there.”

“No… but if you put this on top…” He slid a scroll that had only several lines and squares drawn in no particular order, and had one edge fitted into the space on the bottom plane.

“There is a secret room a little further back.” She nodded proudly, but her happiness quickly evaporated. “But that’s what we expected. There must be dozens of hidden places here. Unfortunately, it means nothing.”

“There are at least four. I’ve done the same for each floor plan, and there’s only one match in each one. These 8 scrolls show each floor in its entirety plus the fragments of the secret rooms.”

Kate looked at the table in amazement. “Excellent work, Corentin.” He bowed his head and smiled. “I have something to tell you too.”

Corentin didn’t believe what he was hearing. He kept his calm demeanour, but Kate noticed that it surprised him.

“So a person you don’t know who he is, and whom you haven’t seen, has delivered a message to you in the woods.”

“Yes.”

“And you trust this person.”

“Yes.”

He raised an eyebrow and looked at the plans again. “Everything seems to point to Nerida Vulchanova, doesn’t it?”

“It seems so. Maybe we should start in the trophy room. There’s a painting of her there, isn’t there? Maybe it’ll give us a clue.”

“Unlikely. But we can try.” They were silent for a while, and Corentin turned to find Kate looking at him. “You mean now?”

She smiled innocently, and Corentin agreed to the little manipulation. Together they sorted out the papers before going to investigate Nerida’s painting.

The portrait received them with a small smile, as if she knew what they had been up to. Luckily for them, the room was deserted.

“Corentin, what do you know about her?”

“Well… the essential. She was a brilliant woman. She designed and built the castle as a perfect fortress. She was skilled in many disciplines; architecture, of course, the dark arts, alchemy, astronomy… It is said that she liked to sail, and that she drew hundreds of maps of the seas showing islands that only she had found.”

Kate touched the plate of her date of birth and death. “How did she die?”

“It is not known exactly. Her death was filed as ‘in strange circumstances’. The books do not agree on the date either.“

“And this one here? Is it the right one?” Corentin approached to inspect it and shrugged..

“It could be. The newest texts date from those years so…” He took a handkerchief out of his pocket to clean the plate from the dust layer it had and, as he did so, it slipped off, leaving a hole in its place.

“Corentin!” Kate gasped. He pulled out his wand and lit the hole, but it was apparently empty.

The librarian went to put his hand in, but Kate stopped him before he could do anything. “What are you doing?”

“It could be a similar mechanism as the one in the library.” Corentin put his hand inside and when he pressed, a slight ‘click’ was heard. They took a couple of steps backwards and Nerida Vulchanova’s huge painting slowly opened.

“It’s Muggle-like. It’s brilliant, if you think about it, the blood purists would never have thought of it,” said Kate.

The painting stopped moving, revealing a stone wall. Disappointment was evident on both faces. They stared at the wall for a moment without saying anything to each other, until Corentin spoke,

“There’s a reasonably simple potion for getting through walls. It’s dark magic, but I know you’d be able to perform. You need water from the lake, sopophorous beans and bottled ghost breath. Then you heat…”

“How am I supposed to get bottled ghost breath?”

“Well, you need a bottle and a willing ghost.”

“You just want to see me bang my head against the wall, don’t you?”

“It was just a suggestion…”

Kate shook her head and went over to the wall. She placed both hands on top of it and pushed to see what would happen. She felt around the stone, looking for any irregularities or anything that might indicate a mechanism similar to the one in the painting.

“Corentin, look at this.” The librarian approached and crouched in the corner where she was. The Deathly Hallows symbol adorned the stone.

“I think we’re on the right track.”

–

[Part 13]

Tag list: @eldritchscreech @meteora-fc @cazreadsstuff @the-navistar-carol @am-i-space

#charlie weasley #charlie x jacob's sibling #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley x ofc #durmstrang #Kate Williams

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becomewings · 5 years ago

Text

Shadows of My Childhood

Analysis: ON Children + Shadows of the Past (BU/HYYH)

Note: All names herein refer to fictional characters in BU (BTS Universe/HYYH/The Notes). The events described are entirely fictional and not representative of the members' real lives.

Content warning: contains mentions of abuse, abandonment, trauma, and suicide; images of blood

Some of the most compelling aspects of the ON official MV, and indeed most of BTS’s cinematic repertoire, are the multiple layers of meaning and opportunity for interpretation woven throughout the video. While this version of ON has not been confirmed as part of BU canon, it contains enough explicit references to visual material in other BU videos to merit analysis of the deeper thematic connections between the two.

In this post, I will specifically look through the lens of the pairing of child figures with BTS members in ON to address possible implications within the context of their corresponding BU characters. If the children of ON represent the shadows of the characters’ pasts that continue to haunt and shape them, then the relationships and interactions of the video pairings map to each character’s coping mechanism for handling these ghosts: JiMin’s denial of trauma; YoonGi’s self-inflicted destruction; and TaeHyung’s spiral of violence that starts within him yet increasingly splinters outward. But they also shed light on the future’s hope for moving forward and healing.

The blindfolded girl + TaeHyung

The child with the most screen time and arguably the most significance in the unfolding of ON’s cinematic narrative is paired with TaeHyung. But taken in the context of BU, why is the child a girl and why does she wear a blindfold? Blood ties and violence are the roots of TaeHyung’s shadows. Yet it is impossible to address the years of his suffering without acknowledging the individual who bore it alongside him, the person one may interpret as represented by the blindfolded girl: his sister.

This portrayal does not reflect their true age difference. She is depicted as a child because, as a protective brother, he views it as his duty to safeguard her innocence. The blindfold reinforces the symbolism that he is trying to protect her from the atrocities and darkness of the world. In ON, it is the aftermath of a bloody war (a battlefield upon which he possibly fell and was reborn, given the grave marker of gathered objects and the cross-like pose of his awakening). In the BU narrative, the darkness is domestic violence and their father.

As young children, TaeHyung and his sister were abandoned by their mother, who was pushed to terrible extremes by her husband's treatment, and left to fend for themselves in the home of an abusive alcoholic. Violence is perpetuated throughout their childhood and into adulthood. Every time she suffers, he suffers too, whether by his father's hand or the guilt that he is powerless to stop him.

“Then. That night. That night ten years ago when Mom left home. That night when Mom, my sister, and I were beaten to a pulp by Dad and we cried ourselves to sleep. … My sister is weeping quietly. It was even more distressing to hear it today.” — TaeHyung, 24 July Year 22. The Notes 1.

This cycle of violence traps TaeHyung in a private nightmare, making him afraid of his own nature's potential: vengeful fantasies (and half-remembered events from parallel timelines) of killing his father; lashing out physically at his friends in moments of conflict. Perhaps more than anything, he fears turning into his father (20 May Year 22, The Notes: Her). Denial is a disease. The more he withholds the truth of his pain and fear, the deeper the darkness takes root in his heart. The pressure threatens to break outward, consuming the people closest to him, or shatter him from within. At his most desperate, TaeHyung views suicide, an act of violence against oneself, as the only way to break free of this cycle.

“I almost killed Dad who brought me into this world and who beat me every day. I almost killed him. No, I actually killed him. Countless times. I killed him countless times in my head. I want to kill him. I want to die. I don’t know what to do. I’m lost.” — TaeHyung, 20 May Year 22. The Notes 1.

Outside, TaeHyung dons a mask to conceal the circumstances of his home life, even around his closest friends. Despite his grinning and loud-mouthed persona, this mask is cracked. His friends see the signs: bruises on his face and back, the emotional marks that run deeper than skin. They follow his lead and do not speak openly of the abuse. TaeHyung refuses to acknowledge that they can see through his mask. They all skirt the uncomfortable truth:

“TaeHyung laughed sheepishly, taking off his torn shirt. Under the dim light hanging on the trailer box, for a second, I saw his bruised back. HoSeok looked at me in shock. TaeHyung looked at himself in the mirror wearing my T-shirt. And he laughed.” — NamJoon, 11 April Year 22. The Notes: Her (translation credit: KRN - ENG © ktaebwi).

“I couldn’t imagine how he must be feeling when I felt this chilly inside. His heart must’ve felt ripped and torn. Or, does he have a heart left at all? How much anguish has he endured? … I first saw the scar on TaeHyung’s back in NamJoon’s container. I couldn’t bring myself to ask about it when he was smiling so broadly with his new T-shirt present.” — HoSeok, 20 May Year 22. The Notes 1.

He cannot seek help from his friends, because that would admit his powerlessness and give voice to the truth of his suffering. And if his pain is real, then so is his sister's.

TaeHyung cannot protect her from the brutality of their father's abuse. He cannot shield her from the cruel reality of their world. The gateway to healing will never open while he turns a blind eye to the ramifications of the violence committed within his family. In ON, acceptance of these truths is embodied in his removal of the girl's blindfold. She gazes forward, unafraid, at the wall toward which she has been looking the whole time. Standing, he takes her hand and discovers that the once-impenetrable wall is in fact a gate. With open eyes, he can see the blossoming land beyond. The future has hope, if only he can face the reality of his family’s violent history.

The drummer boy + JiMin

This is not the first time a blindfold has been employed as a significant visual symbol in BTS’s MVs. Blindfolds, in the form of silk or other members’ hands, figured prominently in Wings-era BU content, particularly in association with JiMin. Therefore, it is all the more noteworthy that in ON, he is not the one paired with the blindfolded child. However, there are several cuts from TaeHyung and his blindfolded partner to JiMin and the drummer boy, or vice versa, that feel like a deliberate choice to draw attention to this absence and the contrast against previous representations.

In the BU narrative, JiMin suffers from seizures likely caused by Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder as the result of an as-yet-unspecified traumatic childhood event that he has tried, and often failed, to repress. He is forced into extended hospitalizations by his parents, who seem unwilling to face the reality that something happened to their child and seek to bury his “abnormal behavior” behind doctors and drugs to preserve the family’s appearance of normalcy.

“When I was taken to the hospital after they found me unconscious at the Grass Flower Arboretum, my parents didn’t ask any questions. They ignored the fact that I had blacked out there. It was the same when I developed seizures. They hospitalized me, discharged me after some time, and transferred me to another school. Family reputation was important to them. A son with mental illness was unacceptable.” — JiMin, 11 May Year 22. The Notes 1.

JiMin, for his part, wants to live a normal life by attending school and cultivating friendships. Maintaining both presents challenges that he struggles to overcome, doubting his own fortitude and questioning the lie that he perpetuates to save himself: nothing ever happened to him. When his seizures are triggered by stimuli that resurface memories of the past, he winds up in the hospital again and again. Donning a metaphorical blindfold to deny the truth of his trauma, he attempts to convince the medical staff of the same lie.

“When the doctor asked me about it in a concerned tone, I trembled and apologized at first. I repeatedly said that I was sorry. It was all my fault. Please let me forget all about it. Then, I tried to pretend nothing had happened. I didn’t remember anything.” — JiMin, 11 May Year 22. The Notes 1.

After HoSeok and his friends help break him out of the hospital (15 May Year 22, The Notes 1), JiMin recognizes that in order to keep his freedom, he must prove both to his family and to himself that he is “okay” and will not relapse.

“I had to return to the Grass Flower Arboretum. I had to stop lying about not remembering what I’d seen there. It was time to stop hiding in the hospital and put an end to my seizures. To do that, I had to go back there. But, for days, I went to the shuttle bus stop and failed to get on the bus.

After I watched the third bus of the day pull away, YoonGi suddenly appeared and plunked down next to me. … Then he asked what I was doing here. I kept my head bent low and kicked the ground with the toe of my sneaker. I was sitting there because I didn’t have courage. I wanted to pretend that I was OK now, that I knew enough, and that I could easily overcome this. But I was afraid. I was afraid of not knowing what I was about to face, whether I would be able to endure it, and whether I would have a seizure again.

… The bus stopped and the door opened. The driver stared at me. I asked YoonGi. ‘Will you go with me?’” — JiMin, 19 May Year 22. The Notes 1.

The drummer boy in ON may represent, in part, JiMin’s childhood: his real younger self, the one who experienced an event with long-reaching, traumatic consequences, just as the drummer boy marched into the horrors of war. User @cinnaminsvga points out that the boy’s striped pants (and I will add, shaved head) may refer to the common style of uniform assigned in Holocaust concentration camps, drawing in additional themes of imprisonment and persecution. In JiMin’s case, the violence against his true identity is committed by himself, in the attempted act of self-preservation, and his family, in turning a blind eye and forcing his hospitalization.

JiMin has spent years of his life denying the truth of what happened in the arboretum, hiding behind a blindfold of denial and lies. Embarking on the arboretum shuttle with YoonGi marks his first conscious effort to remove that blindfold. This is paralleled by his interaction with ON’s drummer boy. For the first time, he reaches out to that boy of his past, in a striking visual homage to Blood, Sweat, & Tears. Instead of running away, he chooses to face the reality of his trauma, in the hope of walking a new path toward acceptance and healing.

Later events in the Notes and BU films remind us that the path to recovery is not easy or straightforward. It is riddled with pitfalls and switchbacks, challenges and missteps that threaten to drag oneself into relapse. When JiMin accidentally stumbles into his dance studio partner and they fall, the sight of his own blood once again triggers him.

“The blood reminded me of the Grass Flower Arboretum. I felt suffocated. I couldn’t remember how I got up, ran out of the practice room, and made it to the restroom. I scrubbed and washed the scrape like crazy, becoming more and more frightened at seeing the blood sucked down the drain. I thought I’d overcome this. I thought I was OK. But I wasn’t. I had to flee. I had to wash it off. I had to look the other way.

… On that day, I’d run away from the Grass Flower Arboretum. My body was covered with mud that looked like blood. I hadn’t grown up one bit from that little eight-year-old kid.” — JiMin, 4 July Year 22. The Notes 1.

The road to the future will be paved with hardship and setbacks for JiMin. However, the act of reaching toward the drummer boy in ON may further represent the acceptance that he has more challenges to overcome. Although the young age of military drummers has been exaggerated and romanticized over the years, their role is uncontested: drums helped the formations march in step, and a language of rudiments (basic rhythmic patterns) relayed commands from officers to soldiers. Despite the danger to their lives, they accompanied the troops to war and played on the battlefield. JiMin’s partnership with the drummer boy in ON signifies his willingness to brave the conflicts, personal and external, ahead. Though his private battles to survive his trauma are far from over, if he does not surrender again to denial, he will one day see light breaking through the storm.

The candle girls + YoonGi

In ON, YoonGi is connected with not just one child, but an entire congregation. The scene appears as a kind of candlelight vigil or memorial service, likely composed of girls because all the men and boys have been summoned to the war. Fire has been one of the most significant, recurring elements since the very beginning of BU content, especially in association with YoonGi, so the choice of imagery is impossible to miss. Fire is the root of his obsessions, the heart of his torment, the means to his self-destruction.

YoonGi has never truly come to terms with his mother's death, locking away the suspicion that she was responsible for setting the fire that took her life. His love for music is bound by the painful memories of his mother and the piano. Love and pain are inextricable. His mother's love for him and for music were not enough to save her life. Again and again, in countless timelines, he plays out that same act of self-violence, throwing himself into the flames.

“I tried to imagine what was going on in YoonGi’s head. Once, I followed him secretly for hours. His footsteps were insecure and unpredictable. He staggered through the night streets and tried to fling himself into the fire. He sometimes squatted on the ground and listened to music that flowed out of somewhere inside an underground shopping arcade. … The suffering he must have endured, going from one extreme to the other, were beyond my imagination. All I could do was watch him stagger on.” — SeokJin, 2 May Year 22. The Notes 1.

Like TaeHyung, YoonGi attempts to hide the true depths of his despair from his group of friends: the wildly uncontrolled mood swings from fits of creative passion to destructive tendencies of alcoholism and self-harm. Though he finds a kindred spirit in JungKook, his own internal conflicts and fears repeatedly force him away when they get too close. When they are reunited physically at key moments throughout the BU narrative, he cannot bridge the emotional gap. YoonGi’s mother abandoned him to an inheritance of grief and mental health struggles, neither of which he is capable of working through alone. But he recognizes that his self-destructive habits spin out of control, and he does not want to inflict that pain upon others through their closeness.

“I turned my eyes away. I didn’t want to get involved in someone else’s life. I didn’t want to try to console someone who was lonely. I didn’t want to be important for someone. I wasn’t sure I could protect that someone till the end. I wasn’t confident I could stand by that someone till the end. I didn’t want to hurt that someone. I didn’t want to get hurt. It’s hard enough for us to try to save ourselves when the last moment comes, let alone someone else.” — YoonGi, 7 April Year 22. The Notes 1.

“‘Why didn’t you go see JungKook? Don’t you know what you mean to him?’ Of course I knew. Maybe that was why I couldn’t go into his room. I was distorted and thorny. Anyone who tried to come near me was bound to get hurt.

… I’d inflicted pain on others as I suffered greater pain. I looked away from their wounds. I didn’t want to take any responsibility. I didn’t want to get involved. That was who I was.” — YoonGi, 25 July Year 22. The Notes 1.

YoonGi is eventually driven to understand that he cannot survive alone. When he fears that he pushes away HoSeok, the “one who always pave[s] the way for [him] to come back no matter how far astray” he has gone (28 July Year 22, The Notes 1), for good this time, HoSeok later texts him privately to ask if he is okay. In between those two points of contact, YoonGi discovers a new purpose for living: completing the melody that has nearly driven him to madness, as it haunts him across many parallel timelines in tantalizing and ungraspable fragments.

“I completed the piece several days ago. I changed the version I sent to HoSeok a few more times. I gave it the title ‘Hope.’ To be honest, the title didn’t actually match the piece. It contained my fear, cowardice, and inferiority. It contained all the moments I tried to avoid, get away from, and reprimanded myself for. But I couldn’t think of any other word that could encompass it all.” — YoonGi, 30 August Year 22. The Notes 1.

In sharing this musical representation of his innermost self, YoonGi opens himself to vulnerability. This is a step forward in accepting the turmoil of his heart and allowing others inside to see his true self, too. It is particularly striking to see YoonGi, who has forbidden himself emotional proximity to others for so long, emerging from isolation to participate in ON’s candlelight service. Linking him to a community of children, rather than the solo partners of TaeHyung and JiMin, signifies his progress in growing beyond the shadows of his past and exploring new ways to manage his grief. Even the cuts to him alone in this sacred, ceremonial space reflect his development. He is not torn by anger or despair, but given to reflection. He does not stare obsessively into the flames, but instead gazes outward at a beam of sunlight. Despite the somber undertones, this scene in ON is one of the rare instances of YoonGi associated with fire in a positive light: not one of violence and self-destruction, but reflection and healing through the allowance of both private and shared grief.

Bonus: HoSeok + the bag girl

While all seven characters of the BU narrative are influenced by their pasts, the ones whose lives are most acutely shaped by the ongoing traumas and conflicts that are rooted in their youths are the characters reflected here: TaeHyung, JiMin, YoonGi. And, I am inclined to say at first pass, HoSeok. Like TaeHyung, he was abandoned by his mother, but this left him without any family and he was consigned to an orphanage. He carries the weight of his abandonment with him into adulthood, influencing multiple aspects of his health and manifesting an unconscious obsession with seeing his mother in other women.

So where is his child representation in the ON video? It is entirely plausible that another pairing included was not included for timing reasons. Another possible reason is that he has made considerable progress in his personal growth by the end of the Notes 1, and therefore the shackles of his past have loosened: he confesses to JiMin that his narcolepsy is fake (16 May Year 22, The Notes 1) and in later months recognizes the problematic nature of seeing his mother, whose face he can no longer remember, in other women in his life, strangers and friends alike.

That being said, the presence of the girl with the bright yellow bag in the shot of everyone looking beyond the wall (included in the first photoset) might be a coincidence… or it might be a small nod to the shoulder bag carried on tour by the real-life HoSeok and gifted to a fan during the New York Citi Field performance in October 2018. The one in ON is not red (although the girl standing next to her has one with red embellishments), but the yellow is a surprising pop of color amid the subdued color palette in the rest of the shot. She does not stand near HoSeok (although neither does the drummer boy near JiMin)... But perhaps, if we are inclined to read into it, we may find a dash of hope in the separation of this mother/child reference, as HoSeok gazes forward with the others at the opportunities and dreams promised by the future.

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If you made it this far, I sincerely thank you for coming on this little journey with me. Please do not repost this analysis on other platforms. If you have any questions, comments, or wild theories of your own… send them my way! I would love to hear from you. -- wings

Added Note: This was written before I read actress Rina Johnson’s statement about playing the role of Taehyung’s sister and prior to the release of the ON behind-the-scenes video.

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razoraqua · 5 years ago

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Ruby’s Symbiote History(Scatter-Spider AU)

One of the winners of a poll I did an RWBY Amino for what AU I made to share more information and the winners was the Symbiote of the Scatter-Spider AU, anyway let’s go over the timeline of this UA’s Venom Symbiote but first let’s clear up a few things.

Origin and Home-world

So, if you watched a lot of videos talking about the origins of the Symbiote that would later bond to Spider-Man and later Eddie Brock to become Venom you’ll know that it’s origin has been retconned a good chunk of times. From a Kree Solider being the first host of the Symbiote, using it only as a tool, Deadpool being the cause of its insanity to it being a part of peaceful race known as the Klyntar before being retconned to them being evil because of they were created by an Evil God. So what’s this AU’s Symbiote’s origin and homeland.

Easy.

This version of the Symbiote is a part of the peaceful Klyntar who want to be a noble warrior of the cosmos but if they get a bad and cruel host then they’ll become corrupted by their personality and get their personality traits from their time bonding with them. This way Ruby unknowingly makes the Symbiote split into two different being that represents two side of her personality, in a way. Now let’s get into the timeline.

The Arrival

The Symbiote arrives to Earth, more specifically Vale of Remnant, via meteor in a meteor shower and landing in Vale Park where a certain Red Spider is helping out. Ruby, as Scatter-Spider, is taking care of a few thugs who were trying to rob a family of their money, she takes care of them with ease (Spider powers remember) and the Symbiote has a front row seat to this display of agility and power. After webbing up the baddies, making sure the family was safe, Ruby web-swings away to come patrolling the city of any crimes and doesn’t know the Symbiote got on her shoe.

Seeing that it might be a slow night, Ruby decided to practice her parkour and free running skills in the area she was in and during that time the Symbiote started to bond with Ruby, cover her and become her new suit. This is when Ruby still has her Street Suit.

After sticking a landing to finish off her practice (perfectly matching the time the Symbiote completely makes itself Ruby’s new suit) Ruby finally notices her new suit, since she did the last portions of her training with her eyes closed to better hone in her Spider Sense. It definitely freaked her out about this new suit on her that appeared out of nowhere but before she could examine it a loud noise that caught her attention and being the helpful person she is she swings off to help.

Turns out it was a car chase with the fleeting car causing problems for the police and bystanders. Ruby quickly dove in to stop them and that’s where the Symbiote started to show what it can do to help her be a better crime fighter. When Ruby stuck her hand out to shoot out webbing at one of the back tires to stop the car what came out was a symbiote tendril that grabbed the tire she was aiming for and she quickly pulled back to take out the tire despite her surprise. The Symbiote continued to show how useful it is to Ruby by enhancing her abilities and she took out the car and criminals a lot faster than she normally does.

Making sure everything was handled by the police, Ruby went to a nearby rooftop to have a better look at her new suit and its abilities. While looking at the suit she really liked the new spider symbol she got, moving onto its abilities, she did this by doing a few kicks and punches that were followed by/ended with a tendril coming out and finally she tested its shape shifting abilities. The Symbiote made sure to please Ruby with its abilities so that it can have a host, please and keep the host alive and get a nice home.

Time with the First Love

(About this title: Yes, the Symbiote does refer Ruby as its “First Love” because she was its first ever host and it enjoyed the time it spent with her. Similar to the comics and a bit of Spectacular Spider-Man, kinda the main reason it bond with Brock to become Venom, prove Spidey is nothing without it. Moving on.)

Ruby’s time with the Symbiote starts off like any other Spiders’ first time bonding with the Symbiote: it feels great! The new sense of confidence it gave her was amazing and she definitely has A LOT of confidence in this time because her getting her powers already gave her a confidence boost, so this is kinda of her react the edge of overconfident and argent. Luckily that happens very rarely and her sense of helping others fat outweighs her pride but since the Symbiote also enhances her emotions, it causes her to become a bit more flirty with Black Cat (Felicia Hardy) even though Ruby is already in a relationship with Weiss at this point and Ruby is really loyal to Weiss so she doesn’t flirt back. Unfortunately, the Symbiote increased Ruby’s attraction to Black Bat to actually ask her out on a Date Night of patrolling Vale and flirting on her like Neptune but it actually works and she keeps her attention on her throughout the night.

Luckily, Ruby spends more time with Weiss so their time together outweighs the flirting with Black Cat and makes their make out sessions a little heated. The times Ruby becomes are rare and only happens when a civilian is put in extreme danger, someone messes with the people closest to Ruby and anyone who thinks they’re a hero and are abusing their authority (corrupted officers and a specific White Fang Member, more in him soon). Due to theses rare moments of anger and the fact they happen because Ruby wants to protect someone this slowly causes the Symbiote to split into two different personalities that represent a part of Ruby herself. The Venom and Heroic sides. We’ll discuss those two soon. Since these two didn’t show up until Ruby’s final exchange with the Symbiote before getting rid of it and it finding a new host. Let’s move on to the events that led to this exchange.

The Spider Shows her Venom

(Alt Title: Adam’s Biggest Mistake!)

Ruby is using her free day to its full potential, patrolling the city of Vale and taking down purse snatchers in front of electronic stores. No really she is and that’s how she learns about the attack on Signal High. Rushing over and arriving at the school she sees there’s several police officers, police vehicles and people, students, teachers and civilians, all over the area. Spotting a big hole, probably made by an explosion, she swings over there and rushes in to to stop the White Fang. She meets up with Zwei, who leads her to where Weiss, Blake and Yang are, along the way in between fighting White Fang members she sees several dead bodies, both human and Faunus, it doesn’t surprise Ruby to see dead Faunus in this attack because they have done this before in the past, killing anyone who gets in their way. What really catches her off guard was the fact that there was also several White Fang members as well and they all shared similar injuries that the civilians had as well: sword slashes and stabs. The sign of Adam.

From the times Blake shared her past with Adam in the White Fang to Ruby and their friends, her interaction with the White Fang members who surrendered will to her and her fights with Adam she knew he was starting to lose patience with anyone who disagrees with his plans and methods. When Ruby finally found Weiss, Blake and Yang the sight that greeted her stop her in her tracks.

There they were Weiss, Blake and Yang surrounded by the reminding White Fang members, each of them battered and bruised with Adam standing over them, his sword drawn, over his head and the red of his clothing, mask and sword starting to glow.

Acting fast, Ruby web-zipped to Adam while pulling him towards herself and kicked him with both feet into him causing a cracking sound to be heard and he crashed through a wall of the room they were in. Using her tendrils to use two White Fang members as make shift humanoid wrecking balls against the other members and her other Symbiote abilities she was able to knockout the rest of the White Fang members in a few minutes.

Using her webbing to the stop the bleeding of their wounds until help arrived, she checked where Adam was to see he was gone, Ruby left a fist mark in the ground next to herself, she told Zwei to wait with them and she lefted to meet them at the hospital out of costume.

After making sure they were going to be alright, Jaune unknowingly giving her the excuse of needing some air to clear her head, she changes into her suit and heads off to find Adam. No matter what.

Going to a few warehouses at the docks provided to be a great idea when she found several White Fang members hiding out in there. With no patience for when Adam might show up or if they get contacted by him, Ruby decided to just give them a beat down until only one was left and interrogate them on Adam’s whereabouts. She did have a run in with the White Fang Lt. with her Symbiote abilities, her actions being fueled by rage and being rougher with her foes, she was able to take him with relative ease. With one White Fang member left, she tried to intimidate him into giving her the location of Adam but he was too loyal and blinded by Adam’s so called heroic cause.

She decided to give the loyal White Fang member what she thought about his so called “Heroic” leader. It was a little definitely a heated argument but in slowly turn to Ruby’s favor as she began to not hold back on her words and using her Symbiote abilities to keep him quiet for her words to get to him. She decided to get the information she was looking for by using an ability the Symbiote recently learned and wanted to test it on the White Fang member. Luckily for him the memory of Adam’s location was fairly recent enough for Ruby not to go further back in his memories and cause him more pain because of this new ability.

After getting the information from the White Fang member, who she tossed aside, she confronted Adam at his hidden location and instead of beating him like she did with the White Fang Lt. she decided to toy with him like how he did to Weiss, Blake and Yang. With his mutant powers that are similar to his Semblance from the show with the added bonus of using the energy to heal himself, Ruby decided that to her advantage. Using the resources around her, her high evasion skills and well placed hits to his sword to prevent her from injuring herself, she made sure he had enough energy to heal whatever injuries she gave him and continue their little “fights”.

Ruby decided to finish this “fight” between them by calling out Adam on his so called heroic acts like she did with the loyal White Fang member before and she hit him with moves that would look similar to a move Weiss, Blake Yang do with their respective weapons but in a physical form. A powerful punch like Yang’s from the Yellow Trailer (with the fist slam before it), a karate chop similar to a sword slash like Blake with her sword, a hand strike akin to a rapier trust like Weiss and a kick move similar to a move done with Crescent Rose. Badly beaten, Ruby had the perfect chance to end Adam right then and there but seeing her reflection in some shattered glass she started to remember why she became a hero and the words her late Uncle lived by as a Police Officer: I only take a life if there’s no other way.

Looking at the state she put Adam in, she knew he wasn’t a threat at the moment and with how bad his injuries were the police could easily take him in, so she started to walk away despite what the Symbiote was telling to do instead. She briefly stopped to give Adam warning for when he was going for his sword:

“Use that sword and loss a limb.”

Unfortunately, Adam couldn’t resist the chance to end Scatter-Spider completely forgetting about her Spider Sense and the fact she was still angry. In one quick moment, Adam had a broken arm that held his sword and Ruby was walking way with a new sword as a trophy.

The Breakup

(I know, I know.)

Ruby decided to go somewhere to clear her head and think about what she almost did. A nearby church seemed like a good place to think, it quiet, abandoned and she had it all to herself. This is where Ruby began her first and at the time last talk with her Symbiote. What Ruby didn’t know what that she was having a conversation with the two personalities she helped create for the Symbiote: the Venom and the Heroic side.

The conversation started with the Venom side saying that they could use Adam as an example to show Vale, show Remnant, what happens when criminals pull a similar stunt like he did and show everyone that this Spider (Ruby) is more than quips and laughs. They’ll show people their Venom!

The Heroic follows up with the idea that if they do this then they are keeping the people closest to Ruby safe and making sure nothing bad happens to them again.

Ruby rejects those ideas and tries to get the Symbiote off of her. During her struggles with the Symbiote she stumbles into the church bell causing the Symbiote to feel pain and give her the opportunity to get rid of it and turn back to her Street Suit. While catching her breathing, she gets a call from Jaune saying that Blake was missing from the hospital, wanting find her quickly Ruby swings over to where she thinks Blake might be heading. Leaving behind a sword and a rejected, hurt and angry Symbiote.

Here’s an image of Ruby finding Blake but the actual scene is different from this one. Mostly Ruby’s costume and that Blake (and WY) don’t know Ruby is Scatter-Spider yet. Ruby was wearing a tank top, her gloves and the bottom half of her first costume.

The Host that shows Venom

Banesaw/White Fang Lt becomes the Venom is this AU. The Venom side of the Symbiote takes over from here in terms of communication between host and Symbiote but it doesn’t share the memories of Ruby with him just her abilities since it wants to prove her that she needs the Symbiote.

Ruby’s fights with Venom alternate between fighting the host using the Symbiote and the Symbiote using the unconscious body of the Lt to continue fighting with Ruby and taunt her into letting it come back to her.

Fan to Agent

So in this AU Jaune has a similar role as Flash Thompson but more a line with him being a fan of Scatter-Spider (Ruby), he later becomes her eye in the sky after she told him her secret identity and became Agent Venom when they both got captured by the Remnant division of Sheild, run by Ozpin. Surprise, surprise.

When they were trying to escape, they ran into Venom, who tried to eat Jaune whole but unknowingly gave the Heroic side a chance to break with a new host and become a hero. Jaune jumped away from Venom with a new Symbiote on him giving a look similar to the Black Suit Spidey wears in the comics before Ruby tosses him some Shield body armor and giving the Venomized-ish look of his armor from the show.

Together they put Venom back into his cell, continue to fight for their escape and they free fall to freedom. Jaune uses the Symbiote’s shape shifting abilities to wing suit wings to help ease the trip back down to Vale.

Ruby was on edge about the Symbiote joining them but she decided to give it a chance and she helped train Jaune to use the Symbiote’s abilities.

Reluctant Reunion

Ruby would bond with the Heroic side of the Symbiote a few times here and there. Wether the situation needed Ruby’s on the spot combat creativity or Jaune was unavailable. The same thing as well for the Venom side as well, she would bond with it in desperate situations and if the situation required her to be extra angry.

...

And that’s about it for now, I guess. This was kinda written during some late nights but most of it was written during the day. Be free to ask me questions about anything.

Thoughts, ideas and anything else to add will be appreciated! Just try to think from a different perspective once in a while! See ya!

#ruby rose #rwby #crossover #spiderman #fan art #marvel #scatterspider au #digital art #jaune arc #agent venom #white fang #white fang lt #adam taurus #venom symbiote

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nightwingwhatdidisay · 5 years ago

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An Egregious Thing

RobStar Entry Day 2: Stardust

Summary: Dick Grayson deserves a good punch to the face every now and again. The honor, this time, goes to Starfire’s former Tamaranean betrothed.

(Or: Nightwing has big dick energy and it annoys almost everybody)

...

He was going to die, Karras thought unreproachfully.

What he had done to the princess's consort could have been seen as an act of war. It surely came across that way to the princess herself, for the moment it happened, she shot herself up from her seat and hurled herself across the table with the shriek of a battle cry. Glowing hands wrapped around Karras's throat in an instant as the voice of the Grand Ruler reverberated throughout the banquet hall. Warriors shouted and shifted around him, but all he could see was Princess Koriand'r's golden face loom over his own before the world began to disappear behind a blinding green light.

"Star..."

Nightwing's voice was strained and quiet, but it harbored some strange reign over the princess, for the flames of her powers dissipated instantly. She loosened her fingers off Karras's throat one and a time, staring at him through bloodlust eyes, until retreating altogether to tend to her battered lover. Galfore's royal guards had seized him, and Karras was dragged ceremoniously out of the hall, watching in a numb state of mind as Nightwing weakly whispered into the princess's ear.

…

"Why did you do it?"

Taryia—his lieutenant—loyally followed him down the hall, but Karras kept his head bent, watching idly as the floor slid beneath his heels, not finding it in himself to answer her question. Instead he stayed silent, giving in to the fierce currents of the royal guards as they tossed him around like a bag of rocks until he found himself in a dark, windowless prison cell.

…

By moonrise, Karras took to pacing the room for the thousandth time when the door swung open and spilled light and a mangled shadow across the cellar floor. Princess Koriand'r had returned, and Karras was going to be sentenced, almost certainly to death. With a resignation he had been building for hours, he turned to face his fate.

Instead, Standing alone in the doorway was Koriand'r's consort, his broken arm now cradled motherly in a sling and his other arm busy balancing a large amphora against his hip. He held an empty goblet in each hand.

"You Tamaraneans and your comically large jugs," Nightwing said in poor Tamaranean as he struggled holding the amphora. He made a face and quickly amended, "Not that I'm complaining." And then, "Don't tell Kory I said that."

Every laceration on his face was cleaned, sewn, and tended to with bandages. His jaw was swollen and blue, and the mark beside his mouth was unmistakable and incontrovertible, every knuckle of Karras's fists indelibly represented there. All the events of the day, which had been so nightmarish and unreal, were terribly, terribly true. Karras's throat closed up in shame.

"You could help me with this thing, Prince Karras."

Karras rushed over to pluck the amphora and goblets from the earthling and place it on the center table, where he began to pour the wine into each cup. Nightwing limped his way into the room, watching Karras carefully. "You haven't eaten yet. Do you like that… uh. That purple stuff? Or how about those green cubey things?" The consort turned his head and shouted at the door, where an attendant appeared and bowed his head.

"Green cubey things, please. From dinner."

The attendant, slightly confused, nodded and left as Nightwing picked up one of the goblets. "Take this. Sit on the bed. And drink."

Karras obeyed silently, unable to meet Nightwing's masked gaze. He sat himself on his cot and tipped the goblet into his mouth, taking careful, deliberate sips, as if measuring tiny volumes in his mouth until he found the goblet empty. Karras watched on as Nightwing moved to refill his cup before speaking. "Nightwing. I give my sincerest apologies about tonight's events."

"I'm going to kiss you."

"P-pardon?" Karras's voice cracked.

Nightwing dipped forward and pressed his lips into Karras, maneuvering in such a frighteningly passionate way Karras felt he would faint from the sheer awkwardness of it all.

Nightwing eventually pulled back and looked at Karras with an expecting stare. "English?"

Karras stammered, dumbfounded. "I-i, uh, I did not realize you were trying to exchange a language to me. It takes the knowing intention from the recipient for languages to pass."

"Oh, I see."

"And…"

Nightwing looked at him, waiting.

"And, we do not require the… tongue."

The mask rendered him unreadable, but Nightwing cocked a brow. "Sorry. A habit," was all he said before leaning in again. This next kiss was more clinical, and bearable, and mercifully lacked tongue.

"Do you understand me now?" Nightwing asked in a strange earthen language.

"Yes?"

"Then drink."

Karras drank.

"So about tonight," Nightwing started, filling Karras's goblet again before picking up a goblet for himself. "Was that some sort of Tamaranean ritual I'm not aware of? Was I supposed to defend myself?"

"No. I'm terribly sorry for it."

"You should be. You're very unoriginal, by the way. Everyone goes for breaking my arm."

Nightwing tipped the goblet into his mouth, smirking, and there was blatant humor laced into his words that perplexed Karras, for the princess's consort was not acting the way he should have been acting. Matters of politics and royal rights were on the line. With a lack of response to give the consort, Karras drank more wine.

"But I understand Kory's called off her betrothal with you."

Kory. Karras bristled. Nightwing referred to Princess Koriand'r too casually, throwing her name around like he owned it, like it was his to butcher and strip off its honorifics.

"She has."

"And you love her."

"I do."

"I don't blame you, Prince Karras. Kory's a ten-admirers-to-the-average-dozen, a-suitor-on-every-corner type of girl. It can be quite overwhelming."

Karras couldn't tell if it was resentment or pride behind Nightwing's tone—perhaps it was both. "I have no qualms with who the princess has chosen as her lover."

"Then what is it, Prince Karras? Did I offend you at the dinner in some way?"

No. He hadn't. Not inherently. Nightwing had just been… laughing, with a warm, uninhibited laugh. And Karras had watched on bitterly as Nightwing's arms had swung amicably over the Grand Ruler's shoulders, jovially recounting a story about him and the princess in an earthen adventure, summoning uproarious laughter from a table of high noblemen. Nightwing was nothing but a fragile earthling, who had such little grasp on the Tamaranean language and even less so on the culture, yet he had controlled the attention of the planet's most important officials with an ease that Karras lacked even as a prince, and it made Karras envious.

Then Nightwing did an egregious thing, he had looked at Karras from across the table, and smiled. Nothing opportunistic, or reverent, or malicious. Just the cordial smile of a man who had innocently stolen his intended wife (the heir to the throne) and command of the noble court without even trying, and it all seemed to be a little unbearable right then.

Nightwing's smile connected with Karras's fist, the framework of the earthling's face easily shifting against his knuckles, and Karras was hungry for the feel of it. Karras wanted to dismantle him, pulverize him into stardust and have Nightwing start all over again, but less handsome, less brilliant, less engaging, and handle life more fairly to the other players. The next thing Karras knew, he was staring down at Princess Koriand'r's consort, hanging limply by his tunic bunched up in Karras's bloodied fists.

And Karras, in some hysterical episode, needed to confirm that a being like Nightwing was made up of the same constituents: flesh and bone and sinewy muscle. With a gentle roll of his fingers, he broke through Nightwing's arm like the stem of a flower. (Because if he and Nightwing were made up of the same building blocks, there was hope for Karras still.)

Of course, he hardly believed that explanation would hold up as a royal pardon.

Suddenly Nightwing's face lightened, "Hey, gorgeous." And Karras felt the heat of the air before actually seeing her.

Princess Koriand'r stood at the doorway, looking down on Karras like an angry goddess, passionless and calculating. Even for a Tamaranean, her blood ran hotter than the rest. Even for a Tamaranean, she was more beautiful than the rest. And Karras, transfixed, belatedly dropped to his knees. He should have bowed his head, but he couldn't take his eyes off her. Only her returning stare, her eyes like green galaxies, broke his rigor, and he finally lowered his head.

"My love, I said stay in the bedroom."

Nightwing stared. "You are so beautiful when you're angry."

"Do not undermine me in front of the prisoner."

"How does pointing out your beauty undermine you?"

"I prefer my presence not be considered enjoyable in any capacity for this particular moment."

"That's an impossible thing," Nightwing murmured, and left.

…

Much later, Koriand'r entered her bedroom with a hot bowl of soup. Dick sat miserably on the bed with a cold pack pressed to his bruised face, but his eyes lightened at the sight of her. He placed the cold pack down and gratefully cupped the soup into his own hands. "A goddess among mortals," he said in reverence.

"Alfred made a whole batch of your favorites that was frozen for the journey."

"Who did you think I was referring to?" Dick asked as he blew at the steam, eyeing her innocently. Kory couldn't help but take in everything about her lover at that moment. He was mangled and cut up and swollen and discolored, and still he was the most handsome thing she'd ever seen. And when he winked at her through a careful sip, Kory's stomach churned the way it did the first time she met him, and she realized she kind of understood Karras's sentiment.

"This is the third time this year someone's punched you in the face for being too charming, Nightwing."

Dick Grayson made a face of mock contemplation. "Imagine what it would be like if I wasn't wearing my mask. It's game over for everyone without the mask."

Kory crawled onto the bed and snaked a finger underneath the mask. At a tug, she was met with cobalt blue eyes, glazed with humor, and love, and—because she was looking for it—a hint of lust.

"You know, Karras told me something I found fascinating, babe."

"Hm?" Kory mumbled disinterestedly.

"Apparently, Tamaraneans don't need to use tongue when doing a language exchange."

Kory cracked a grin. "Is that so?"

"I was very surprised, since you've taught me all these 'kissing techniques' that need to be done to make the transfer work."

Kory bunched up Dick's shirt in her hands and pulled him in for the first of many kisses. "Remind me again those techniques."

…

The next morning, Karras was pardoned from any accusations of breaking peace customs, and was offered a visit to the Titans Tower on diplomatic grounds whenever he found the time.

#An Egregious Thing #RobStar Week 2019 #Stardust #Dickkory #Nightwing #Starfire #robstarweek2019 #RobStar #big dick energy #Dick Grayson #Koriand’r #Teen Titans

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oakfathers-blessings · 6 years ago

Text

Parvis Mahdavi: The Paragon

Parvis had never considered himself a man of many talents. Could he hold his liquor? No. Could he whistle? No. Hell, he couldn’t even dance that well (although a pint and a half of ale would have him convinced he was the best dancer in all of Bravos, much to the chagrin of absolutely anyone who would be forced to bare witness to his drunken cavorting). If there was one talent Parvis would be haughty enough to bestow on himself, it would be his seemingly inhuman ability to run. Not in a literal sense, but he could run figurative marathons around anyone he had met. In fact, he ran so well from what was inside that he was convinced he wasn’t running at all. You see, Parvis was a man of many tales, but not a single story he spun in the seedy taverns he spent his time in were half as harrowing as the life he had led. He was his own unsung epic, a poem he felt but could never quite put words to, a song he sang but couldn’t find the melody.

His story begins, as many stories do, at the beginning. Parvis Mahdavi, then known only as Rheza, was found at the doorstep of Madame Hustillion’s brothel one January morning. He was taken in, and like a stray dog who took too quickly to the hand that fed it, became the son of not one mother, but 8. The courtesans employed at the brothel were well aware that such a house was no place to raise a child. Protecting him by keeping Rheza sheltered away in a back room, at least for the first few years of his childhood. This is where he remembers some of the best years of his life. Memories flashing in his mind like strikes of lightning, illuminating the darkness in his mind when he laid in bed at night. The memories that shone through all the everyday sludge, keeping the monsters of the past at bay. He’d remember Para (his favourite mother of all) singing a soft lullaby in some distant nomadic tongue. He’d remember Fatemeh teaching him how to communicate using his hands, the two of them developing a unique dialect of sign language so that Rheza would be able to communicate with her despite the fact that she could not speak. He would remember Sara teaching him how to fight not with fists but with his mind, or Roya’s fantastical stories that made him laugh and cry and yell until Madame Hustillion scolded the two of them and sent him off to bed in his back room.

At the age of nine he would have been allowed out onto the streets. Running errands for Madame Hustillion, who regarded him as her grandson, her stern demeanour doing nothing to calm the storm he was growing up to be. He had arguably inherited the best traits from each of his adoptive mothers, at least they would say so. Madame Hustillion, however, would complain that despite having nine competent adults raising him, Rheza had somehow grown into the biggest fool of all. His heart too big, voice too loud, mind too clever. He remembers the eve of his 10th birthday clear as crystal. Madame Hustillion pulling him into her office just as he was getting ready for bed, mind alight with excitement for his coming birthday. He had asked Madame Hustillion to allow him to go travel with Fatemeh, who was leaving Briar Glenn for the coming months to visit her brother. He expected to be leaving the next morning, Fatemeh by his side as he watched the familiar landscapes of Briar Glenn melt away. Instead, he left that night, alone, and never looked back.

“Rheza you must understand that you, just as your mothers and I, will never leave this town. You are not a boy of any inheritance, or worth. In the eyes of the law and the eyes of the upper class, you are nothing but another number they can use in a census,” Minerva Hustillion spoke with a tone cold as ice. “I’ve seen boys like you die from maladies ranging from illness to the look on their face. The world is cruel, you cannot expose yourself to those people out there, Rheza-” “You are wrong,” Rheza interjected, fingers grasping the fabric of his tunic tightly, leaving Madame Hustillion in shocked silence. “You are wrong. I am special, Para has told me so. She says there is something different about me, I am not like those boys and you know it.” The boy was shaking now, small body filled to the brim with pure frustration, golden eyes burning against the gaze of the older woman. She hummed, her paper-thin lips curling into a satisfied smile, a laugh like a cracked bell leaving her throat. “You have spent your life in privilege, I have given you everything you have today. If I had known you would have turned out to be such an ungrateful brat I would have left you out on the street to become someone else’s problem-”

He wouldn’t remember much after that, only recalling the feeling of hot tears rolling down his cheeks as he marched out of the house, Madame Hustillion calling for him to come back, claiming that she didn’t mean what she had said, but the damage had already been done. He left the house with nothing to his name but a coat, leaving the warmth of his home, and the love of his adoptive mothers behind. On that cold January night, at the age of ten, Rheza realized that not only was he not special, he carried little to no worth in the world at all.

This was how Fazel had found him.

The Society of Open Eyes was not foreign to him. He would sometimes see members making their way in and out of the brothel, marked by the intricate tattoos blazoned across their necks depicting an open eye. The members of the Open Eyes mostly wore dark navy robes, silver designs etched into the fabric in different patterns. Regal and Commanding. Most of the history behind the Open Eyes was a closely kept secret. Though their reputation spoke for them. They represented the lower classes in Briar Glenn, providing protection to the more dangerous and unregulated underground of the city. Not only that, but they dealt in vice as well, carrying out various nefarious deals on the streets they protected. The Open Eyes were seen as heroes- saviours. Especially in the slums of Briar Glenn, where Rheza had spent the majority of his young life. Despite his lack of knowledge of the society itself, he knew a man in charge when he saw one.

Fazel Mahdavi was coarse, but kind, thin lines of age pressed into his pallor skin. Familiar. He had the gentlest smile Rheza had ever seen. The most defining feature of Fazel’s face being the tattoo. There, inked into the skin between Fazel’s eyebrows, was a small eye. He would come to learn that this mark was the sign of the sightseer, the leader of the Open Eyes. This would explain his rich navy robes, which fluttered carefully in the cold air as he knelt down in front of Rheza. “Little One, you will freeze out here if you stay on the streets any longer, come with me, we have food and water for you, and a warm bed,” the older man whispered, reaching up with gloved hands to unclip the buckle of his winter cloak. Rheza had never felt anything so warm in his life, sinking back into the fabric as the older man wrapped the cloak around his thin shoulders. It was in that moment that Fazel found a son, and Rheza became known as Parvis Mahdavi.

Rheza, now Parvis, spent the next four years of his life training under the older members of the Open Eyes. The classes started as one on one sessions, but soon enough more young individuals were recruited. First was Omin, who was a year his senior. Omin was a small boy, but he could fight like hell. The two of them were nearly inseparable despite their training. Fazel often commented that watching the two of them spar was like watching a tree sway in the breeze. They danced. After a few months Nadiah and Taraneh were brought in as well, and Parvis discovered that he had competition. Taraneh was an enigma. Their origins unknown and Their abilities seemingly endless. They were mute, although once they learned that Parvis knew how to sign they were impossible to stop: Nothing is more ironic than the mute of the group being scolded for being the most talkative in classes. Nadiah was Fazel’s second child, two years younger than Parvis but just as strong and just as clever. Where Omin was like a breeze, Taraneh like a river, Nadiah was a raging fire. She burned. Nadiah was erratic and unpredictable, fighting with the tenacity of someone willing to do anything to win. Needless to say, Nadiah and Parvis were as close as siblings could be. The four of them graduated from their training during the summer of Parvis’ 18th year. Fresh tattoos across their throats solidifying their place in the society. The newest group of silencers to work under Fazel and for the sanctity of the Open Eyes.

Within the society itself, there were four designations: The Elders, the Readers, the Common Eyes, and the Silencers. The Elders were the leaders of the Open Eyes, the Sightseer being the highest in command. The Seers were next in line, serving as confidants and advisors to the Sightseer. It was their job to make sure that business ran smoothly and fairly. The Readers were the journal keepers, writing down the histories of the Open Eyes. Readers were the smartest of the society, their intellect and aptitude being the glue that held the society together after so long. Common Eyes were exactly that, they were members of the society that ran the common grounds. They were the bakers, the tailors, the mechanics. Their designation was the largest group of all the society, and the most valued.

Finally, the smallest designation, and arguably the hardest to graduate into was the Silencers. They were employed by Fazel and the seers to track down anyone from enemies of the society to people who owed society benefactors money. The Silencers did exactly that, silence. Working quickly and unseen by the outside world. For two years the group of them worked loyally under Fazel and the seers. Parvis never once questioned his father. Not once. He would silence whomever his father ordered him to. Led into a sense of blind loyalty. Parvis and the others were willing to do anything- absolutely anything- for the greater good of the society. Parvis had never felt so needed, so high. And then there was the fall.

Every Sightseer must choose a successor. And while Fazel was nowhere near the end of his mortal coil, there was talk of the next sightseer being named from their small group of silencers. More specifically the title was rumoured to go between Fazel’s children: Nadiah and Parvis. He had been told that in the past, the two nominees were forced to fight to the death for the role, and the thought of having to possibly kill one of his own made Parvis sick to his stomach. Nadiah’s 18th birthday had come. The dueling day. He remembers the two of them holding each other tightly- both apologizing and forgiving each other simultaneously with that embrace. By the end of the day one of them would be named sightseer and the other would be given a silencer’s burial. The ring they were designated was smaller than he remembered, not having sparred on that stone floor since their training together. The room was full to the brim with onlookers. Most importantly, Fazel looked down at the ring from his seat on the balcony, his gentle eyes cold as his two children prepared to fight. Nadiah had learned the same look. A gift inherited from her father. Eyes empty and cold, Nadiah faced her brother. In that split second before the fight began, the voice of Madame Hustillion rang sharply in his mind.

“Your heart is too big, Rheza, you will die because you love too much.”

He was crying. That was the only fact he remembers from the majority of the fight. He was crying for fear of dying and for fear of killing. The duel was a blur of hand to hand combat, the world around him completely quiet for the first time in his life. Muffled screams and cheers breaking through the silence slowly before he snapped back into the present. Nadiah was on her back, his boot pressed firmly against her throat. All it would take was a bit more pressure and he would be the next sightseer. A little more pressure. The sound was overwhelming, buzzing in his ears like a hive of wasps. More pressure. Loud. More Pressure. Loud. Just a little more pressure and it is too loud. Too loud and too much pressure. No.

For the first time in his life, Parvis’ eyes were open.

He quickly recoiled, stumbling backwards, falling to the ground as his eyes connected with the gaze of his father. Fazel frowned, slowly standing, ignoring the gasps of his younger daughter who was still alive. He didn’t care about her at that moment. Every shred of his attention was turned to his son, fists clenching as he addressed Parvis in a tone far too reminiscent of a time long past. Cold. “Parvis, you must finish this duel. Nadiah has not yet died, and you are aware that only one of you may remain in this society. Finish what you started,” Fazel barked to his sobbing son, who stood on trembling legs. Parvis had not felt this small since he was a boy, and yet he had never felt so brave. “No.” he declared, kneeling down to help Nadiah to her feet. “I will not be another cog in this cycle of needless violence. I have silenced for you for years, without question I carried out your will but I say no. No more. If my ascension is to be marred by the blood of my sister than I say no. Only one of us can continue on, and I choose her. Do what you must, but I will not see her buried today.”

Parvis remembers that it burned- the branding. Normally excommunication from The Society of Open Eyes was carried out via silencing, but Fazel had spared his life. Branding was a more rare form of execution: the offender having two closed eyes burned into the skin of their forearms to mark their fall from the society of Open Eyes. Any trace of Parvis would be burned once he was sent off, his name an unspeakable word. A Curse. For the second time in his life, he would be without a home, but he was better off for it. Knowing that because of this sacrifice his sister would remain alive, and take the seat as sightseer was enough for him. He left the society with a smile on his face, bandages on his arms, and a fullness in his heart.

This is where Parvis is now, having been wandering for six years, a charming drifter returned to Briar Glenn for a few nights before moving onto some other town, some other bar to waste his time in. Parvis didn’t consider himself a man of many talents, but if he had to bestow a gift upon himself it would be his ability to run. His ability to chase the past away with a drink or a night of companionship. He was used to being able to run - from anything. He would soon come to learn that Para had been right all those years ago. He was special. Parvis would soon become very familiar with the term “Paragon” and although he would try-

this time he wouldn’t be able to run.

•••

The world of Bravos and Mythos belongs to @padrooke

#mythos #project mythos #fan paragon #the paragon #parvis #snarkyoc #oof #this is my first time writing #in months #snarkyconstruction

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fic-only-dark-strange-daughter · 7 years ago

Text

The Pain of Assignment

Word Count: 8,028

Summary: What happens to traits when their host passes away?

Warnings: Death, Grief

Pairings: Platonic Only!

———

Traits were not born with their hosts, instead they were assigned. When a child was born a unique combination of four facets was appointed to them for the entirety of their lives, creating each individual’s personality. When the host passed away the aspects would go back to the Astral Plane and the cycle would repeat.

The traits themselves were immortal, but the longer they lived the darker they became, and they would have a much harsher outlook on life. All of the aspects knew the quote, “You either die a hero, or live long enough to watch yourself become the villain,” which was what happened as a trait aged, even though their immortality made it impossible for them to die, so in the end they would become “the villain,” so to speak, eventually.

Some alignments of the moral, creative, logical and negative facets worked better together than others, and if a particular group created a fulfilling and selfless life for the human, both traits and host were granted the gift of Elysium. If not, when the person passed on, the traits were simply paired off in a different combination and assigned to another child, with only one way to remember them. A symbolic tattoo given to each of the four, which was comprised of what was most important to the one they had lost or what summed them up the best. The more they cared about the person they made up, the closer the mark was to the heart of the traits that had it. More often than not aspects would find themselves reminiscing over a past host, and if the dynamic had been more familial, missing the traits they had once worked with.

Roman, Logan, Patton and Virgil were particularly close after Thomas had helped them to come to a better understanding with one another. None of them had ever grown so close to a host, and Thomas had been the only one who had ever discovered their existence at all. His knowledge of them had created an atmosphere for them to improve their relations with one another through the Sanders Sides videos he created. The love each of them had developed for the online personality, who cared so much for them, made it so that all four dreaded the day they would be reassigned.

Days, months and years passed and they knew the time they had with Thomas would soon come to an end. Eventually he was hospitalized, and slowly they each came to the realization that he would never go home, and along with having to leave him, they themselves would soon be separated, with great odds of never seeing any of the others again. Each channeled their emotions in a different way, Roman spent most of his time trying to find a way to extend Thomas’s life, and Logan grew quiet and hardly spoke at all. Patton spent most of the day in tears and Virgil having been through the process so many times, simply did his best to console the others.

As time went past, they learned when the doctors and nurses would come by and the four of them would sit by Thomas’s bedside between rounds with his family, who already knew of them. More than once Logan or Virgil had to take Patton back to the mind-palace when he became hysterical. Roman tried his best not to let his own sadness show through, but he often returned from sitting by their host, with tears trailing down his cheeks. For the safety of not being discovered by anyone else, it was decided that Morality couldn’t stay with Thomas alone, because they knew his emotions would cloud his judgment. In a time of crisis the moral side would not leave if he heard the doctors coming, so someone else had to be there to drag him back if need be.

By night Anxiety stayed in the real world, allowing the others to get some rest, but he would stay with them throughout the day as well. To their dismay, Thomas slowly became less responsive, to the point in which he didn’t even acknowledge their presence.

After a few agonizing weeks of steady decline, with the traits and family gathered around they finally heard it, the single, high-pitched and unbroken tone that indicated the lack of a heartbeat. Patton immediately started sobbing, clinging to the logical side; Roman had his head in his hands, shoulders shaking with grief, and a glance passed between Logan and Virgil, both with eyes full of tears. The family who were in the room broke away to get the others, and the traits took their opportunity. With hushed goodbyes, they synced out of the real world, bidding farewell to the best host they had ever had the honor to serve.

Despite knowing what came next, each of them was taken by surprise when they did not reappear in the mind-palace; instead, standing in front of the Court of the Ethereal Plane. Before they had a chance to react a female voice chimed from above them, “In accordance with our laws, you will be granted the customary six months to grieve before being reassigned, and we are sorry for your loss.” The words seemed shallow to Virgil as she stepped back to join her colleagues, these were traits who worked in the Council and never had to experience the pain of losing a host.

The next to step forward was a man dressed in dark robes, more than likely the leader of the Court. Unlike the woman, he didn’t bear the sympathetic smile that was so commonly given to those who had experienced a deep loss, which was fine with the negative facet, he hated sympathy. The man stayed silent as he approached, merely waving his hand in front of them. When he finally spoke his voice held a professional and authoritative tone, “knowing this loss has touch you all greatly, more so than any before this, the symbolic mark rests close to the heart, as the host you have lost did. You will find that it rests just below your left collarbone.”

Each of them gently pulled at the top of their shirts, Morality nearly fell to the floor with grief, and the others jumped to help, but Anxiety who was nearest was the first to brace him with his shoulder. The tattoo that each of them now bore had been done in an array of colors, but was clearly the YouTube symbol with the outline structured like a molecule. Representing Thomas’s sexuality, love for chemistry, and later the talent in which he had shared on the video website.

With nods from the others on the Council, they were dismissed and reappeared in a long, lush hallway; the place where they would stay while in the Astral Plane. Their apartments were adjacent to each other, but that didn’t come as a shock to any of them, as the realm itself could shift and morph into any shape or arrangement.

With small tear-blurred glances to one another, the four of them separated, heading for their own rooms. Virgil himself had been back to the Ethereal Plane so many times by this point, that he had grown accustomed to his temporary flat there. Even knowing that, he still longed to be back in the mind-palace that had been his home for so many years.

Timidly he opened the door, expecting the apartment to have changed slightly from its previous state, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. Turning on the light, he was blind-sided by what he saw, his room from the mindscape now sat before him, as if he had never left. He couldn’t hear his footsteps as he tread inside; it sickened him to see such a perfect recreation without it being the real thing. His mind knew what had happened, but he didn’t want to accept it, he could almost hear the sound of Patton making dinner downstairs or the music from a Disney movie that Roman was watching. Anxiety wanted so badly to believe he was back there with the others, but he couldn’t let himself fall into that trap. He had to get over his grief as quickly as possible, so he would be in the correct frame of mind at the time of reassignment.

Darting across the room, he grabbed one of the picture frames from his wall; it was one of the rare times Princey had caught him smiling on camera. Morality had just told one of his better puns, and they had all been in a fairly good mood that day; next thing they knew, each of them had fallen whim to laughter, even Logan. Fury rushed through the dark facet at the memory, these were things they would probably never experience again, and if they did, it wouldn’t be with each other. In a fluid motion, Virgil threw the frame with as much power as he could muster; the glass shattered against the far wall, and the violence shook free another picture which fell to the ground with an equally loud crash. He was determined to make the room look as different as he could, and the next few minutes were filled with grief-fueled destruction. Drawers were pulled from their places, contents scattering across the floor as the wood splintered under the force of impact, sounds of breaking glass and cracking plastic overpowered any sobs that escaped him. This was the only moment of reprieve he could allow himself, the others would soon need his reserved manner and experience with loss once more, but for the time being, with the apartment in shambles, he stumbled over to the bed.

Falling back onto the soft surface, he expected the tears to return, but none came forth, after his unbridled rampage, he simply felt numb. Of all the hosts he’d had, none had left Virgil in such a broken state, normally he could just move on, ignoring the loss. In times past, he’d almost been able to forget what it had been like with a previous host, but this time there was no denying the pain. Thomas had been special to all of them, the only one who had ever even known they were there, and he always tried his best to amend the rough relationships between his sides. Equally, once each of them had begun to understand just how much the online personality cared for the facets, they had tried their best to reciprocate by doing what they could to help him through his own dilemmas.

Shaking his head, he tried to clear it. While he suffered through what felt like hell, he could only imagine the affect it was having on Roman or Patton. They, by a trait’s standard, were still young, morality being the youngest phase, followed closely by creativity. The creative stage was a bit longer, but the next as a logical aspect was even more so. Then there was the inevitable darkness that each would become in the end, the final, longest and worst part of their immortal lives, when they finally became a negative trait, disgusted with life, but more specifically death, and the only way to avoid it was to achieve Elysium.

A soft knocking at his door drew Virgil from his thoughts, in his current mindset; it didn’t surprise him that he hadn’t heard anyone approach. Slowly he stood, it was more than likely Patton who waited on the other side of the threshold, and for a brief second, he regretted trashing his flat, but there was no taking it back now. He picked his way across the wreckage with care, and was more than a little shocked to see Logan standing there instead. The logical side’s clothes had seeming grown darker, Anxiety shuttered inwardly, it made since, seeing as the second-eldest aspect was probably only one host away from becoming a negative trait himself.

Despite the change, Logan still looked as if he were trying to keep a level head about the situation that had grown so chaotic around him. “Look, I know you probably don’t want anyone bothering you right now…I didn’t want to come get you myself…but we are probably the only ones who can push our…’emotions’ aside at the moment.” Virgil suppressed the feeling of awe at his counterpart admitting to having emotions, thankfully however, he continued before he could show his reaction. “Patton and Roman…I fear they may not fare as well with our…current situation.”

A nod was his only response, he sighed inwardly, the anxious facet knew he had overreacted in destroying his apartment, but he was glad he had dealt with the feelings and was now in a state in which he could handle helping the others. Wordlessly he stepped out into the corridor, making sure the door latched behind him, hiding its contents from on looking eyes.

As they made their way to the rooms that house the more emotional traits, Virgil couldn’t help but further notice the change in Logan. He walked with less confidence as if he were unsure, and hanging his head as they went. His arms were crossed and he didn’t straighten his glasses as much as he had in the past.

Approaching the first door, which they presumed to be Patton’s, the logical trait stood straighter and regained his professional demeanor. The two had agreed to check on Morality first as he would probably need their input sooner, and Roman would want more time to collect himself before they dropped by. The four swift knocks on the door were initially followed by silence, but soon a rustling beyond the threshold betrayed the movement of the one inside. It didn’t take long for Patton to peer out at them, he had obviously been crying, judging by the redness of his face, and his bloodshot eyes, still he looked as if he were trying to pull himself together.

He opened the door a little further, and Virgil realized he wasn’t the only one whose room was a perfect replica of the mind-palace, “h-hey kiddos…w-whatcha need?”

Logan looked over to the darker facet, his eyes silently pleading for him to speak, so Anxiety shifted his gaze to the youngest trait. “We wanted to check and see how you and Roman are doing,” he paused for a moment, trying to think of what else to say. “Perhaps it would be best if we all went and got something to eat…as I’m guessing none of us feel like cooking.”

Morality slipped out into the hall, pulling the door closed behind him, nodding with a half-hearted smile, “thanks kids.” A quick glance passed between the three of them before they began making their way towards Roman’s room.

The Head Council Member stared down at the place where the four traits had stood only seconds before. He tried not to let the shock he felt show, there had been a moment, a brief one, but an instant that made him reconsider everything he had previously thought about them. They wouldn’t know it, but the Council had been watching over them, as they did all groups of traits, but the four of them in particular had been a point of interest. They had been strongly considered for Elysium, but had just barely fallen shy in their relations with one another.

In that quick moment after they had all received their symbolic marks, the moral trait had nearly crumpled to the ground with grief, but that hadn’t been the thing that had taken him by surprise. It was not uncommon for younger and more innocent sides to be overwhelmed at the loss of a host, but the reaction the other three had had was what astounded him. Most of the time the older traits would turn a blind eye to such an emotional breakdown, but each of them had moved to help, most notably the negative trait. It was rare for any of the aspects to help the others when they came back to the Astral Plane, but it was nearly unheard of for a negative trait to do so.

It was obvious before, that they had grown close to the human, and his death touched them deeply, but now he saw just how much they cared for one another. The thoughts raced through his mind, he was not one to go back on his word lightly, he had already stated that along with their host, the four would not achieve Elysium; their bond with each other had simply not been strong enough. However, now that he had seen them in a moment of pain and fear, he was beginning to rethink; perhaps he had been too quick to decide…perhaps he had been wrong.

“Sir?” A soft voice jolted him from his thoughts and he turned to face the speaker, his second in command, and the one who had been the first to address the four traits when they had arrived. She stood close behind him her eyes glittering with a mixture of shock, concern, and curiosity, “do correct me if I am wrong, but we all just witnessed the same thing…those traits acted almost like a…family,” the woman spoke so only he could hear. She was normally surer in her words, but the situation that had just played out before them seemed to have shocked her as much as it did him. A moment of silence filled the room, as if she were internally debating whether or not to voice the rest of her thoughts, in the end she apparently deemed it safe as she continued. “Should that not mean that they passed their final test…and they along with their host be granted with the gift of Elysium?” As she finished, she looked up at him fearfully as if he were going to rebuke her, but he couldn’t constitute anger for her voicing his own thoughts.

He carefully considered her words, running through the possibilities in his own mind, “it is a difficult decision to make…this all occurred after the passing of their host…does that not invalidate their actions?”

She met his gaze, there was still anxiety there, but she seemed to have come to a resolve of her own, “Sir, do excuse my forwardness…but the relations between traits is one of the few testing categories that does not require the input of a human.” She paused, letting her eyes flit away for a moment before returning to him, “If we follow that law, then it should not matter if the moment of unity occurred before or after the death of their host…as long as it was before the time of their reassignment.”

He sighed, he didn’t want to go back on his previous decision, but he also knew that his second in command would not voice these types of thoughts if she did not feel strongly about them. “We must be certain…it will be a lot of work to retrieve their host’s soul for the Fields of Asphodel, and to change a decision as serious as whether or not they should achieve Elysium…that would take a unanimous vote by the Court.”

She held his gaze as she responded, “do you not think it justified to at least try? If these traits have passed their tests in all categories and proven that they are worthy, who are we to deny them the right that every trait has to go to Elysium?”

He nodded, her decision had been a logical one, and slowly he turned to face the rest of the Court, “Council members, hear me. We have a serious matter in which we need to settle.” There was a soft rustling as the traits sat up out of respect when being addressed, but none of them spoke. “You all have seen what just unfolded before us, and I am sure you are all aware, that the four traits who were just dismissed had been highly considered for places in Elysium, but fell short in their relations with one another.” His words were met with silent nods of acknowledgement, “what just happened when they were given their symbolic marks leads me to believe that they may be closer to each other than we previously thought…but since this display of kindness was exhibited after the passing of their host, it is debatable if it should qualify them for their places in Elysium.” He looked around as the others waited for him to continue, “We must take a vote as to whether or not this should be granted to them, but for something this serious there must be a large number in favor for them to achieve such a high honor with their host.” With a slight flick of his wrist the holographic screens on each of the desks sprang to life. “Cast your vote, but consider carefully as you do. This is not a matter to be taken lightly, so make certain that you are sure before you submit it,” with that he let the others gaze at their screens and ponder their own decisions.

He glanced to the side as the woman he had spoken with quietly took her seat. She looked over the screen that now lit her face with a light green glow, and he could see the same resolve in her eyes that had been there when they were conversating. She tapped on the desk a few times and the illumination disappeared, and he couldn’t help but notice that she was the first to lift her head. She met his eyes and the intensity there made him wonder if he already knew her vote.

Time seemed to creep by, but one be one each of the Council Members gazed up and there incandescent desks flickered out one more. Most of them had an air of confidence surrounding their decisions, but others came off as wary when they cast their votes. He himself didn’t know which way he wanted the ballad to swing, his second in command was correct in the traits having a right to go to Elysium. Equally, he knew how much time, effort, money, and paperwork it would require to reclaim the human’s soul from the Fields of Asphodel. The guards were not easily swayed and tended to be strict in making sure that those there did not attempt to leave without proper references. That being said, if the vote was in favor of Elysium, he didn’t know if they could get it all done before the four traits were to be reassigned.

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt when he saw the last screen’s light dissipate, and everyone now looked on, waiting to hear the results of the census. He made his way cautiously to the podium where he would address them, the screen built into it lit up with a blinding blue light, almost making him flinch.

A hush had fallen over the room, and all who resided there, as if they were collectively holding their breath. Muscle memory powered his movements as his fingers touched the smooth surface, navigating through menus and options until the results shined up at him, harsh white letters on the blue background. He didn’t know what he had expected from the vote, but what now sat before him was not it.

Slowly he lifted his head, eyes sweeping over the traits that made up the Court; there was no need for the customary call to attention now. Everyone stared up in suspense, waiting with bated breath. “To start I wish to thank each of you for staying late to participate in this poll.” He paused for a brief moment, “of the 250 people in this room to have voted…235 of you are in agreeance that the happenings of a few minutes ago should indeed be validated; therefore, as the vote was unanimous, both traits and host shall achieve Elysium.”

The Council Leader did not expect the enthusiastic applause that followed his words, even those who had voted against joined in. After the moment of reprieve, he put his hands up to signal silence, and once more the room fell quiet. “I told you to deeply consider your decision, a task I hope you took to heart, as it cannot be changed now. It will be a lot of work to go back on our word, but each of you knows your department and tasks well, you will be required to play your part expediently if we wish to get this done before the reassignment of the four traits. Let us not waste anymore time…dismissed.” Everyone stood and walked out of the room, leaving him alone to be faced with the challenges ahead.

Just like when Thomas had been in the hospital, time seemed to pass at the speed of light, and to be honest there were just as many tears. Many nights, Virgil found himself following the sobs he could hear through the walls to check on the traits in the adjacent flats. As the date of their reassignment grew nearer, Morality said the same words more and more, “I just don’t want to lose any of you!”

The others would try and console him by saying things like, “we will all achieve Elysium eventually, we’ll see each other then,” or “we all have the symbolic marks to remember one another by in the time being!” Despite their best efforts he still grieved over the thought of losing them so soon after their host, and though none of them voiced it out loud, they all knew humans didn’t get another chance…they all knew they would never see Thomas again.

That being the case, each of them had found a different way to deal with their feelings, Patton did so through an outward show of emotions, Roman had developed a tendency to snap at them all more frequently, but something told him that behind closed doors, the creative aspect dealt with things in his own way. Logan had grown quiet and more distant, generally staying in his own apartment unless called upon by the others, adding to his suspicions that Logic was close to becoming a negative trait as well. Virgil on the other hand tried to ignore the sadness that tugged at his heart, by focusing on helping the others in any way he knew how, still there were nights in which he couldn’t repress what he felt and he would resort to something he wasn’t proud of.

He couldn’t believe how quickly the six months had passed; now they only had one more week until they would be ripped away from each other. He worried about Patton and Roman and how they would fare when the four of them were separated. Logan despite his change, was still a logical facet; and by extension, could still think rationally, so that eased some of the fear he felt.

Anxiety looked at the ground, it moved slightly beneath him as the swing he was on shifted back and forth gently. Evening was falling now, but the four of them still stayed in the park outside their apartments. Too little, too late they had all realized how precious those around them were, and how quickly they could be gone forever. Coming to this understanding, they had all taken to spending as much time as they could together over the last month, knowing that they would soon have that luxury taken as well.

Currently they were doing their own things; Logan sat on one of the benches reading a Sherlock Holmes novel, while Roman stood in a clearing, practicing sword strikes and parries with an invisible foe. Patton picked at the grass near the benches where the logical side resided and Virgil was lost in thought as he sat on the swings. Silence still filled the night-chilled air around them, but the quiet was almost unnatural. There were no birds squawking in the woods beyond, or crickets chirping at the darkening sky, the only sounds to be heard were Princey’s blade slashing through the emptiness, or the occasional sniffle from Morality. It had been that way for so long, the sudden echo of second-eldest closing his book, caused them all to jump. The creative aspect pulled his sword into a defensive position, but quickly sheathed it however, and turned to face the perpetrator. “What was that?! You’ve been quieter than Virgil lately and you chose now to make loud noises!”

Logan glanced over, but didn’t acknowledge the sharp quip, none of them did these days, due to the frequency of them, and instead he merely straightened his glasses, “what loud noise?”

Roman looked exasperated, “that f-” he paused for a brief moment when Patton glared at him through tear filled eyes, “that flipping book and scaring the h…heck out of us!”

The one being barraged by the insults simply looked confused, “All I did was close it, because it’s gotten too dark to read.”

Before the Prince could continue, Virgil intervened, “we were all lost in thought. Any disturbance of the quite would be enough to startle us, so there’s no use in getting angry over it.” He had the same calm tone he had acquired since Thomas’s passing, even accepting his role as the mediator. He still expected the creative trait to round on him, Anxiety would rather have the insults angled at him than let the other two take them, but there were none forthcoming. Roman looked over at him with half-hearted scorn in his eyes and instead shuffled over to the other side of the clearing and sat down.

The creative facet glanced over to Virgil then Logan, his voice barely audible, “I’m sorry…” The others whipped their heads around to face him as he continued, “I know I have been saying some rather harsh things to the rest of you, and that is completely out of line.”

Patton teared up further at the apology, and Logic seemed taken aback, but it was the negative side who responded. “Princey, it’s okay, we are all in grief, and each of us expresses that differently.”

The royal aspect lifted his head and met his eyes, “yes, each of us handles if differently, but you all are in just as much pain as I am…so I’m only making things worse by jumping on each of you for something as small as closing a book.” Roman blinked apologetically at Logan, who simply nodded in understanding. The anxious trait realized, that through the anger and outbursts, the experience they were all going through had managed to somewhat humble the Prince.

In the rapidly fading light, it was difficult to see the misery in the others’ gazes, but after a few moments, Patton’s voice pierced through the anguish filled silence. “It’s getting late…maybe it would be best if we went back inside.”

Not wanting to upset Morality further by denying him, they all begrudgingly agreed, none of them wanting to accept that another day had slipped through their grasp. Each of them stood, but before they could even begin walking, there was a familiar tugging sensation at their shoulders, as if they were being summoned. Realization quickly sank in, the only ones that would be able to call upon them in the Astral Plane was the Council they had spoken to when they had first arrived.

Confusion and fear raced through Virgil’s mind, the only reason for being asked back to stand before the Court, was to be reassigned, but it was supposed to be another week before their time together ended. Looking around, Anxiety saw his own confusion reflected in Logan’s eyes, the horrified expression that Patton wore as tears trailed down his cheeks, and the sheer desperation in Roman’s gaze before he placed his head in his hands.

Even though the oldest trait knew he should say something to try and calm the others, he couldn’t find his voice. It wouldn’t matter any way, as there wasn’t anything that he could say to stop the woe each of them felt. This was it, they had said goodbye to Thomas, and now it was time to say goodbye to each other.

The logical side was the first to speak, but as he did so, his tone was broken with dejection. “I am aware that none of us wants to face this, nor did we expect it so soon…but there is no use in trying to delay the inevitable.” The words he said were rational, just like his persona, but his eyes were still glassy, betraying how he really felt, “we need to go.”

A sob escaped from the moral facet, and the negative trait made his way over to him, “I know this isn’t going to be easy, but we will all see each other again someday. We will all get to Elysium eventually.” Even as he said that, he wondered if it was really true, by a trait’s standards he had been through quite a number of hosts, and was beginning to believe he would never get that honor, but that didn’t mean the others wouldn’t.

Patton looked up at him distraught, “It won’t be the same! Some of us will have changed phases, we won’t be the same…and Thomas won’t be there with us!” Virgil had to hold himself together as Morality voiced the one thought all of them had avoided addressing.

“Patton…we may have changed a bit by the time we see one another again, but we will all have the memories of when we worked together.” Roman joined them, closely followed by Logan, “and we all know that Thomas would want us to celebrate the time we had with him…and not grieve over him no longer being with us.”

The logical and anxious aspects nodded in agreement, the eldest putting his arm around the youngest’s shoulders. “Roman is right, no matter our age or phase, that won’t affect the memories we have made with each other, and Thomas would want us to hold onto that.” He paused briefly as Patton wiped his eyes on his sleeve, “but Logan is right too…we need to go.”

With a deafening silence now surrounding them, they synced out of the park and reappeared before the Council of the Ethereal Plane. The smiles that most of them wore infuriated him; did they find joy in tearing apart families? These sociopathic traits who would never understand the pain of assignment, or how it felt to lose a host, or the traits they worked with. They would never understand how difficult it was to be cut off from the rest of the Astral Plane and have to completely start over building relations with other traits every few years.

Virgil was about to speak, but the Leader of the Court beat him to it, “am I correct in thinking, you believe you are here to be reassigned?”

The anger he felt ebbed slightly, leaving him mystified, he had been back to this place so many times that it pained him to return, but in the copious amounts of visits, a question such as this had never been asked. Anxiety glared up at the Council members, ready to defend the others from whatever kind of sarcasm fueled joke this was. “We were supposed to have another week before being reassigned.” Had the others not been in a loft above them, the negative trait would have lashed out at them for their incessant giggles. “I think it is obvious we don’t see the humor in the situation, so if you could explain what is going on, we might find that helpful!” He growled the words, drawing Patton closer as a sob escaped the younger facet.

Something about that small movement apparently changed the focus of those above them, seeing as they fell silent. The Leader stepped forward, his voice hushed with disbelief. “He was telling the truth…a negative trait actually caring for a moral one...”

Roman rushed to their side defensively, “of course! We may not always see eye-to-eye, but Virgil cares for all of us, just as we care for him!”

“Much like any other combination of traits, things had a less than ideal beginning.” They snapped their heads around as Logan strode up as well, “but I know for fact each of us would lay down our lives…if that were possible…for the other three.”

From the middle of them, Patton’s voice, choked with emotion rose up, “I can say with all my heart that each of us sees the others as family!” The final word echoed through the room, and the entire Court wore varying expressions of shock, and some of relief.

The dark robed Leader was the first to voice his thoughts, “I thought he was joking…in all my years, I have never met a set of traits so close to one another.” Anxiety pondered the statement, who was this ‘he’ that was continuously being referred to? “He said you traits had developed a deep bond with each other…but we didn’t realize it was anything like this.”

Glances passed between them before they all turned to glare at the Council, Princey being the only one brave enough to actually respond, “and now you are going to rip us away from one another!”

“Wait! You didn’t tell them?!” A familiar voice filled with anger and horror rang from a corridor just off the right side of the chamber, followed by quick footfall. Virgil dared to hope as he turned to face the entrance, closer and clearer now, it sounded again. “You all just let them grieve for six months without even a hint as to what was actually going on?!” As the question came to a conclusion, Anxiety felt a sense of joy he hadn’t experienced in ages as the speaking figure stepped into view.

He almost couldn’t believe his eyes, Thomas now stood before them, returned to the peak of his health, looking like had not too long after starting YouTube. His hair was even dyed purple, and shifting his gave to the three next to him, he saw theirs becoming the same shade and he guessed his own was as well.

“T-Thomas?” Morality, despite his crying, looked happier than he had in years. Their beloved host, the one who they had missed more than any other, the one who had left a mark so close to their hearts now stood smiling at them, his own hazel eyes glittering with tears.

As he began making his way across the room to join them, he addressed the Council once more, “even me, who spent all that time in the Fields of Asphodel was made aware, and it never crossed your minds, any of you, to tell them?!” All four of them stayed in a confused stupor, Thomas’s appearance hadn’t made things any more comprehendible to the traits, meanwhile the Court members shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

“We…thought it best not to tell them in case your references did not go through in time.” The dark robed facet didn’t sound too sure of his decision now that he was faced with someone he didn’t necessarily have any control over.

The shine of exasperation in Thomas’s eyes only seemed to intensify as he responded, “and you couldn’t extend their stay here for a week or two longer because…?” Again there was shuffling in the loft above, and the four aspects in question had merely accepted that whatever the situation was, it would all be explained to them in good time. When no reply was heard, he sighed, “that’s what I thought…but knowing that, what are you waiting for?”

The Leader shook his head and looked at each of the traits and their host in turn, “We kept a close eye you for the entirety of this assignment, because you all showed true promise. When you returned to the Astral Plane and we spoke with you initially, we had thought your relations with your fellow traits was far weaker than if actually was.” He paused, glancing back at those who sat behind him, “when you arrived however, you helped one another in ways we had not previously expected. When you were dismissed…a vote was taken to see if your actions were a qualifying factor for you all in your final testing category…and the vote was unanimous.”

Their heads shot up, but it was Patton who asked the question that was running through all of their minds, “does this mean…?” It would make since, with them being called upon early, and Thomas’s appearance. Virgil had to stop himself, this was a situation in which he couldn’t get his hopes up, the odds of the honor being placed upon them was just too farfetched.

The Council Head stared down at them fondly, “yes. You four, along with your host have passed in all of the testing areas. All of you will achieve Elysium this day.”

The next few moments were a blur of hugs, joyous tears, and elated comments. Anxiety could hardly believe what he had heard, after so much pain and heartache, so many hosts, and all four phases of a trait’s life; he was finally going to Elysium. Above all of that, he was getting to go with his family.

When the chaos had subsided, the woman who had been the first to speak to them upon their return to the Ethereal Plane, moved to the front, replacing the dark robed aspect. “Thomas, will you step forward please?” He looked confused, but did as he was told. “Just so you are aware, traits are given a symbolic mark when they lose a host, as a way to remember them. The closer this mark sits to the heart, the more the host meant to them, furthermore, when a host goes to Elysium, they too are granted the mark.” She waved her hand over him, “and now you have yours.”

Thomas bowed his head slightly, “what is this mark…?” He stopped as if he were afraid of the answer to his next question, “…and how close to the heart is it?” She smiled softly and gestured to the four standing just behind him. They had already pulled down the collars of their shirts, revealing the rainbow, YouTube shaped molecule. Slowly he turned to face them, and he seemed overtaken by joy and humility, “…j-just below the left collarbone?” He stopped momentarily to wipe his eyes on his sleeve, “I-I mean that much to all of you?”

“Yes!”

“Of course kiddo!”

“It was you that created an environment in which we could come to a better understanding with you and one another.”

Virgil was the last to state his agreement, but he knew exactly what he wanted to say. He looked up so that their host was facing him, “Thomas you were the only one to ever acknowledge our existence. You cared for us and helped us when we needed it most…a favor we can never repay. You went out of your way to accept me for who I was, and help the others to do the same. You were the one who noticed our faults and helped us strive to fix them, and be the best we could be. Most of all we have you to thank for what we all have been given today.” Anxiety could feel the eyes of the other three locked on him, it was an articulate statement coming from him, but those words had been the ones he’d wished he’d said to Thomas before his passing, and had tortured and eaten away at him for six long months.

He didn’t have much time to take in any of the expressions the others wore before Thomas wrapped his arms around him. It was a gesture that he would have despised in the past, but he had grown close to the online personality, and he didn’t dare to pull away in case the entire situation was just a dream. Instead he looked over to the others, gently motioning for them to join, which they did without hesitation. Patton slammed into them so fast he nearly toppled them over with his excitement, but Roman’s embrace managed to steady them before they hit the floor, and even Logan seemed to have relaxed as he too drew them close.

The words from the woman above them caused them to break away from one another. “You will all be escorted to the gates of Elysium, where you all will be permitted to live out the rest of eternity in peace.”

Virgil didn’t have the slightest clue, nor did he care how much time had passed since they had entered Elysium. Much like the Astral Plane, their new home could morph and shift, the only difference being it could do so to whatever they desired. Currently he was sat in a bay window that protruded from his room, which he was no longer upset that it was a perfect replica of the one from the mind-palace. There was one difference though; framed pictures littered the walls and surfaces. Each one bore a happy memory that he had forged with Thomas or the other traits. Outside, it was a quiet night, the moon sat high in the sky and the stars were so plentiful they looked like glitter on a midnight blue curtain. The snow lay untouched and flawless along the branches of the trees and the ground below, and sparkled in the half-light, while the rest of the world was at rest.

It being so late, Anxiety suspected he was the only one still awake, but he enjoyed the silence. He sat close to the window sill, sipping at a cup of warm tea, a blanket thrown over his legs to protect him from the cold that seeped through the glass. While he was still a negative trait, he was no longer plagued by dark thoughts and panic-attacks. He had no reason to fear the horror that the night had once brought upon him, and he was finally able to simply enjoy his life.

An almost inaudible knocking at his door drew him from his thoughts; perhaps he wasn’t the only one up at such a late hour. “Come in,” he said the words without shifting his gaze from the shadowed world beyond his cozy room.

“What are you doing up so late?” Thomas’s voice sounded more curious than concerned, as it often did these days. He knew it was not uncommon for the darker aspect to stay up through the dark of night, but there was no need for worry, not now, not here.

Virgil sighed with contentment, his breath momentarily creating fog on the paned window, “I had forgotten how peaceful and calming the early hours can be.” The sun would not rise for at least five hours yet and he would stay where he was until it did, but either way he turned to face his former host, “What has you awake?”

Thomas sat on the edge of his bed before responding, “Stayed up talking to Joan and Talyn.” Anxiety smiled to himself as he recalled how excited the YouTuber had been when he discovered that his friends and their traits had also made it to Elysium. They were as inseparable here as they had been in life. “They just went to bed, and I saw the snow on the ground, and it made me think of you.” The negative aspect shifted his line of sight to look at the twinkling, white expanse, “I know how much you love nights like this, and I wondered if you might want some company?”

Virgil nodded, shuffling over to make space for the newcomer in the recessed window sill. As Thomas settled in across from him, he snapped his fingers and more tea appeared on the table nearby and a blanket fluttered down around his friend’s ankles. For Anxiety this was paradise, the hushed sounds of the wind outside, shifting the snow ever so slightly, and the drinks keeping his hands warm. The cozy blankets and the dark of night wrapped around him, but most of all, the two sitting there in a comfortable silence, no longer as a trait and host, but as family.

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swimintothesound · 7 years ago

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The First Annual Diamond Platters: Swim Into The Sound’s Ancillary End of the Year Awards

Whether you like it or not, it’s awards season. The time of the year when every music publication sits down to rank, order, and pass judgment on the last 365 days of art. As every outlet races to beat each other to those illustrious “end of the year list clicks,” I am only one man, and I just can’t compete. While Swim Into The Sound does still have an official “Best Albums of 2017” list in the works, this countdown is going to be a little different.

For the first time ever, I’d like to welcome you to Swim Into The Sound’s Diamond Platter Awards: an extravagant, ornate, and handsome way to recognize the past year of music. Grandiose, gaudy, and opulent, The Diamond Platters are the most exorbitant awards on the entirety of the internet, and the absolute highest honor of online music blogging awards.

Aside from poking fun at the seriousness of list season, these awards do have a purpose: to talk about music that may not be discussed otherwise. It’s always fun to see how everyone ranks albums each year (even if they start rolling in around November) but more often than not, most website’s “best of the year” list ends up coming off as rote rambling. A half-hearted and inconsistent ranking that merely regurgitates a months-old review with a few outlandish placements to get people talking. It’s the music blog equivalent of roll call, and it’s getting stale.

So with that said, The Diamond Platters don’t go to the “best” music of the year, but things that are worth celebrating for some other reason. Albums that triumphed in their category, artists that surprised their audience, or moments that were worth remembering. Hopefully funnier, punchier, and a little more out of the box than your average end of the year listicle, here’s my off-the-cuff (but official) ranking of several hyper-specific categories of my own creation. Enjoy.

Best Acoustic Reimagining

Winner: The Wonder Years - Burst & Decay

After a two year absence and an album that I wasn’t too hot on, the pop-punk gods return with an acoustic EP that reworks some of their best songs into a tender acoustic offering. Taking cues from lead singer Daniel Campbell’s solo outing, Burst & Decay marks the beginning of a new day for the band. The artistic fulfillment of the direction that they’ve been heading in for years now, all packaged up in a lush EP that allows the songwriting to shine as the crown jewel that it always has been. It’s a fantastic “fall album,” and the perfect soundtrack to warm lattes, wool scarves, and crunchy leaves. The album’s final track will leave you ruminating, thoughtful, and pensive, but that’s precisely what the band was going for and always has been.

Runner-up: Jeff Tweedy - Together At Last

The Wilco frontman treats long-time fans to a career-spanning album that culls the best songs from 30-years of music and reworks them beautifully.

Biggest Surprise of the Year

Winner: The Dirty Projectors - The Dirty Projectors

As is a recurring theme with this blog, The Dirty Projectors were a group that I’d never heard of until very recently. When the band’s futuristic self-titled LP dropped at the beginning of the year, I had no context. No knowledge of the band’s dissolution, bad blood, or previous relationships. I went into the record blind, only having the internet’s reaction to go on. Hailing the album as “3017 shit” I hit play on the album not knowing what to expect and emerged blown away. It indeed sounded like future music with crazy autotune, glitchy instrumentals, and bizarre vocal deliveries as far as the eye could see. As I learned more about the group and the backstory I grew to dislike the man behind the music, but that didn’t keep me from loving the unconventional left-field arrangements on this record any less. The Dirty Projectors is unlike anything else I’ve heard in this year or any other.

Runner-up: Ugly God - The Booty Tape

When XXL unveiled their class of 2017 freshmen, I was underwhelmed to say the least. Aside from elevating genuinely deplorable human beings, I hadn’t heard of most of the artists that made the list. Of the ten up-and-coming rappers that the magazine showcased, I came out liking Ugly God the most. His late-summer debut The Booty Tape is a 23-minute banger-filled escapade that combines a conceptual sense of humor with modern trap stylings. It’s what Das Racist would have made if they were around to witness the rise of Lil Yachty. Nothing on the tape overstays its welcome, the production in on-point, and Ugly God is surprisingly proficient throughout. It’s a joy to listen to, and that’s not something I thought I’d ever say about a dude who “only wants to sing about dumb stuff.”

Most Stank Face-Worthy Beat

Winner: Flume “Enough (feat. Pusha T)”

After last year’s immaculately-produced Skin LP, the Australian musician continued his flower imagery in 2017 with two companion EPs alongside various singles and numerous remixes. The high point of this era came at the very beginning of Skin’s second companion EP on the Pusha T-assisted “Enough.” Featuring abrasive blown-out instrumentation, “Enough” is a jaw-clenching and muscle-inflating track that will flood your speakers and blow out your eardrums. Perhaps the ultimate gym song, “Enough” is one of the nastiest beats I’ve ever heard in my life, and Pusha T is used masterfully. This track is a force to be reckoned with.

Runner-up: Kendrick Lamar “DNA.”

After two minutes of scene setting on the album-opening “BLOOD.,” an ignorant Fox News clip gives way to an aggressive Kendrick who begins “DNA.” by shouting “I got, I got, I got, I got / Loyalty, got royalty inside my DNA.” The song sees Lamar coming out of the gates swinging, but midway through the song, just as you think it’s winding down, the beat cuts out and switches. With only one minute of the track left, a countdown begins, and Kendrick starts spazzing out over an allegedly-improvised beat, created after the fact to cater to his flow. Placed over a sample of 1982 Rick James, the beat becomes swells to monstrous proportions, spiraling and booming, taking control of every muscle in your body and eclipsing every pure thought you’ve ever had. It’s one of the best moments in music this year and an absolute marvel to behold.

Best Album From Last Year That Took Until 2017 To Discover

Winner: Pinegrove - Cardinal

Listening to everything in one year is impossible. Sometimes albums and bands slip through the cracks, and in 2016 Pinegrove was one of those for me. The Run For Cover signees have seen an astronomical rise in 2017, becoming indie darlings within the space of a single calendar year. It took me many listens to discover what’s so unique about Pinegrove, but after I realized they weren’t just another Emo band, I began to fall in love with them in early 2017. With fantastically-composed songs like “Aphasia” and “New Friends” the group’s sophomore album is a fantastic jumping off point for a band that’s poised to continue to grow exponentially.

Runner-up: Camp Cope - Camp Cope

Much like Pinegrove, this Melbourne-based female trio also released one of the best emo records of last year. While it took a while to sink its hooks into me, this fall I hit a point where I couldn’t go one day without listening to Camp Cope’s self-titled record. If their second album’s single is anything to go off of, the group may already have one of 2018’s best albums on their hands.

Most Satiating B-Sides Collection

Winner: Angel Olsen - Phases

B-side releases are an interesting beast. Often created primarily to satiate the die-hard fans, it’s rare that an artist’s best work would be on a collection of things cut from a record, but here we are. While Angel Olsen’s My Woman was an easy choice for my Best Of list last year, 2017’s Phases represents a thoughtful punctuation to the end of this chapter. Featuring unreleased cuts from each of her albums, Phases is a perfect sample platter of Olsen’s broad and diverse sounds proving, once again, that she’s one of the most powerful women in indie.

Runner-up: Sufjan Stevens - The Greatest Gift

While Phases gets points for being comprised entirely of unheard material, Sufjan’s Greatest Gift should be commended for striking a near-perfect balance of B-sides, demos, and remixes. The “mixtape” collects outtakes from 2015’s landmark Carrie & Lowell, all of which bear the same brand of soul-destroying, death-ridden meditations and grievances. While Sufjan’s other 2017 album Carrie & Lowell Live represents a maximalist reimagining of the album, Greatest Gift represents the exact inverse: stark, subtle, and haunting renditions of the same tracks. Occasionally even more hard-hitting and impactful than the full album, The Greatest Gift is an incredible contrast to his 2015 record and the perfectly-placed bow atop this career-defining work.

Most Essential “Portland Anthem”

Winner: Drake “Portland”

As a native Oregonian, this year’s music has been a noticeable boon to our city. From local boys done good to songs specifically about our town, the Rose City has been blessed throughout 2017. God knows as Seattle’s Napoleon-complexed younger brother, we’ll take all the confidence we can get. 2017 may have been the year of flutes, but Drake’s “Portland” takes that woodwind-based phenomenon one step further into absurdity by heavily-utilizing the recorder. Assisted by Travis Scott and Quavo, “Portland” is an outlandish and bouncy anthem to life in PDX. While the album cut is fun, seeing the two perform the song live in May was a meta and goosebump-inducing highlight of my year in live music.

Runner-up: Sufjan Stevens “The Hidden River of My Life”

While almost all of Carrie & Lowell’s tracks depict life in Oregon, “The Hidden River of My Life” is a heartfelt (and surprisingly-catchy) song of in-jokes, references, and observations that can only come from having lived life our rainy state.

Reddit Commenter Who Should Be Reviewing Music

Winner: wonderbitch26 on Melodrama

When Lorde’s Melodrama dropped in June popheads across the world rejoiced. As often happens, that joy frequently translates into gay men acting so unbelievably extra that it begins to feel like an infinitely-renewable source of energy that we should be harnessing. In Melodrama’s album release thread on the /r/popheads subreddit, user wonderbitch26 posted an in-depth comment depicting an explicit and erotic tale of sexual dancing and BDSM-esque spanking that also managed to accurately portray what listening to the album is like. It’s a journey worth taking.

Runner-up: plzaskmeaboutloom on More Life

Drake isn’t exactly the internet’s favorite artist. While 2015’s If You’re Reading This represented a career-defining high note, his subsequent releases have been middling at best. In fact, in May I wrote 8,000 words over a series of four posts in which I simply tried to reconcile my love for Drake despite his recent downward trajectory. While I perceived 2017’s More Life as a slight bounce back, not everyone agreed with me, least of all /r/indieheads user plzaskmeaboutloom whose Simon Cowell-esque takedown of the album is meaner (and funnier) than anything I could have ever come up with.

Most Gallery-Ready Cover Art

Winner: Spoon - Hot Thoughts

It’s not often that a band’s ninth record is their best. While Spoon’s Hot Thoughts finds the group reaching a refreshing creative peak, one of the most memorable aspects of the album is actually its gorgeous cover. Created by Portland’s own Christine Messersmith, Hot Thoughts’ album art is a striking depiction of a human skull. Painted in vivid watercolor, you can spot the pattern of the canvas running subtly throughout the background providing the perfect texture and consistency to the entire piece.

Runner-up: Turnover - Good Nature

To be quite honest, I was disappointed with Turnover’s Peripheral Vision follow-up this year. While their 2015 album represented a jaw-dropping emo reinvention, 2017’s Good Nature seems to be content with simply extending those ideas into another release. While I’m not yet sold on the album’s musical contents, one thing is for sure: Good Nature’s cover is absolutely stunning. Featuring a child-like array of jungle animals underneath a bright pink sky, it’s a memorable and eye-catching display that also manages to be an excellent encapsulation of the music that lies behind it.

You Are America

Winner: Cardi B

Out of all the glo ups of 2017, none have been more astronomical than Cardi B. While her monumental hit “Bodak Yellow” tells her story quite well, she has gone from stripper to dethroning Taylor Swift and marrying a Migo all within the space of a year. When she’s not breaking records, her time goes towards being one of the most magnanimous and personable Instagram purveyors on the planet. From iconic raps to inspirational social media videos, Cardi B is a force of nature. In one year she gave us a chart-shattering anthem of empowerment, togetherness, and upward mobility. She’s the embodiment of the American Dream. An endearing story of success. The bitch everyone wants to be. Her story is what this country was founded on.

Runner-up: Perfume Genius

This year has been hard for most of us, but for Mike Hadreas things have been near impossible. His 2017 record No Shape is the tale of seeking out happiness and holding onto it for dear life. About finding joy and warmth in the face of homophobia, discrimination, hatred, and a world that seems stacked against you. As a society, America should consider ourselves lucky to have humans like Hadreas amongst us. If even a fraction of our future population is comprised of people like him, then we’ll be living in a utopia one day.

Most Impeccable Samples

Winner: Lil Aaron - Soundcloud Singles

While I gushed about Lil Aaron’s music in a post earlier this year, his combination of trap lyrics over 2000’s-era emo samples remains one of the most intoxicating things I’ve heard all year. From “My Own Worst Enemy” to “I Write Sins Not Tragedies,” Aaron’s Soundcloud is a treasure trove of millennial nostalgia. Each song follows a familiar pattern, first luring the listener in with a sense of familiarity, then flipping expectations end over end as he hits you with clever wordplay, catchy melodies, and gut-busting bars. It’s a combination that I never would have thought of in a million years, much less imagined working as well as it does here, but that just goes to show the brilliance of Lil Aaron’s mind.

Runner-up: Jay Z - 4:44

Helmed entirely by No I.D., Jay-Z’s 4:44 represents a return to his earlier sound, once again embracing booming, chopped up soul samples. It’s a match made in heaven, and the samples pair with his voice so well that you begin to wonder why he ever got away from them in the first place. Thanks to this sense of familiarity, the entire album feels both comfortably familiar and brand new at the same time. 4:44 manages to capitalize on Jay’s past success while also standing on its own merits, and that’s all thanks to the record’s strong sample-based foundation.

Worryingly Prolific Output

Winner: Brockhampton

When I say “prolific output,” the distinction here is output that also maintains a high quality. So sorry King Gizz fans, 5 albums in one year is in an achievement, but we both know they’re not all winners. Texas-born, Cali-based BROCKHAMPTON is a group of 20-something 20-somethings who label themselves as a boyband. This year alone they’ve released three albums, one documentary, a TV Show, and embarked on a nationwide tour. They are young creatives incarnate, and I hope they never stop.

Runner-up: Sufjan Stevens

While not everything he released is from 2017, Sufjan Stevens has given fans more than enough new music this year to tide us over until his next record. From live reimaginings, b-sides, soundtracks, and space-themed originals, Sufjan has given us 3.5 albums of new material this year alone, and all of it’s great. And in the time that it took me to write and edit this he tossed out a Tonya Harding-themed loosie. The hits keep coming, and Sufjan is a true blessing.

Most Iconic Social Feed

Winner: Lorde’s Instagram

One of the few people I have notifications turned on for, Lorde’s Instagram has proven to be a never-ending waterfall of iconic tour pics, beautiful faces, and incredible fashion. In fact, my “saved” section might as well be renamed “Just Lorde” at this point because that’s 95% of all I ever save. She can do no wrong.

Runner-up: There is no runner-up

Best Incongruous Use of Hard Rock

Winner: Feist “A Man Is Not His Song”

I can’t believe I’d so severely misjudged Feist as a pop act. Like most of the world, I was first introduced to her in 2007 with the unparalleled (and unexpected) success of “1234,” and until this year I’d assumed that one breakout single was indicative of the Canadian songstress’ discography, but in reality, I could not have been more wrong. Feist’s Pleasure is an album that rides waves of aggression. Often focusing only on a guitar and Leslie Feist’s voice, it’s one of the rawest and most personal albums I’ve heard all year. A shock comes at the end of “A Man is Not His Song” where the chorus bleeds into a quick 22-second hit of Mastodon’s “High Road.” It sticks out like a sore thumb, yet somehow fits into the song and album so perfectly. This was only one of many revelations that I had while listening to the album, and a moment that truly needs to be heard to be believed.

Runner-up: Brand New “No Control”

While the whole of Brand New’s Science Fiction is pretty hard-rockin', the Emo trailblazers tend to shift between two styles on the record: sad, slow tracks and aggressive kickass rock. Late-album cut “No Control” lies somewhat between the two, featuring a whiny crooning chorus alongside distorted guitars. Around two and a half minutes in, the song fades out and slowly sputters out into quietness. There’s a brief pause of silence, and then a booming bass, fuzzed-out guitar, and aggressive set of drums are slowly turned up in the mix. Gradually gaining volume as they play, the instruments become louder and louder until the track ends in earnest. While it only hangs on for a minute before fading into the next song, the riff still remains a standout groovy moment on the band’s career-defining final record.

Most Charming Human Being

Winner: Claire Cottrill of Clairo

Claire Cottrill has been making lo-fi bedroom pop songs for years now under the name Clairo, but it wasn’t until this fall that her song “Pretty Girl” blew up. Having accumulated nearly 5 million views at the time of writing, the music video is simple, delightful, and impactful. Created on a day when “her hair was greasy, her skin was bad, and she didn't want to leave the bed” the video sees Clairo alone in her room singing and dancing along to the simplistic pop track. It’s utterly pleasant and completely disarming, a refreshing breath of air from the world around you. Still a student in college, I can’t wait to see what kind of art Clairo is able to unleash once she’s able to entirely devote herself to creative pursuits.

Runner-up: Alex Luciano of Diet Cig

The high-kicking, dog-loving, outspoken frontwoman to New York-based Diet Cig is a pom-pom-clad ball of energy and fury. With one of the most charismatic social feeds on the internet, Luciano is a treasure of a human being. Someone who’s joy and passion bleeds over onto anyone and everyone that she comes in contact with. A badass of the pop-punk scene.

Best Music Video

Winner: Charli XCX “Boys”

When Charli XCX dropped her video for “Boys” over the summer, the pop culture world collectively went mad. From trying to spot all the celebrity cameos to drooling over everyone displayed in the song, it became an internet-wide obsession. The song itself is a catchy earworm of a pop track, but the video is a sugary pink and instantly-recognizable classic that managed to get the internet talking, which is a feat in and of itself.

Runner-up: Jay-Z - “The Story of OJ”

On the polar opposite end of “Boys,” we have “The Story of OJ” which is a dark black and white video about race relations in America. While all of Jay-Z’s 4:44 is packed with urgent addresses like the one found here, “The Story of OJ” remains the best encapsulation of the album’s wide-ranging topics accompanied by pitch-perfect emulation of Fleischer Studios’ animation.

Best Collaboration

Winner: Courtney Barnett & Kurt Vile - Lotta Sea Lice

Maybe 2017 is bringing us together after all. From Atlanta trap stars to long-lost fables, and indie darlings, this year has been host to countless fantastic collaborations. Among dozens of great crossover albums, Lotta Sea Lice from Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile remains the one that sticks in my mind most prominently. Featuring breezy Sunday morning songs, this meeting of indie minds a genuinely pleasant listen that will take your mind off even the harshest realities of the day’s news. Sea Lice offers an escape into a world untouched by misery where continental breakfasts are always available, and it’s easier than ever to let everything go.

Runner-up: 21 Savage, Offset, & Metro Boomin - Without Warning

Filed under “things I didn’t expect to be this great,” Without Warning is a joint effort between three of the biggest names in hip-hop this year. Hot off a string of successful albums, this collaborative release finds the two rappers trading verses over some of Metro Boomin’s darkest beats of the year. Sprinkled with a handful of solo tracks and a couple of guest features, there’s just enough variation here to make for an incredibly compelling listen.

Most Fabulous Christmas Bop

Winner: Sia “Santa’s Coming For Us”

The chandelier-swinging popstress returned in 2017 bearing gifts in the form of Everyday Is Christmas, a collection of 10 original holiday songs. Kicking things off, the album’s lead single “Santa’s Coming For Us” is a jubilant and dancy track with just enough of a dark undercurrent to be enjoyed by all. If this song isn’t a Christmas classic next year, I will be severely disappointed in us as a civilization.

Runner-up: Phoebe Bridgers “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”

Introduced on social media with the caption “this emo cover brought to you by the atheist who loves Christmas,” this post-album loosie sees Bridgers reworking one of the best holiday songs in her trademarked remorseful delivery. Accompanied by a lone guitar and bare instrumentation, this is the one Christmas song that’s guaranteed to make you cry at least one or two tears into your hot chocolate.

Best Use of an Englishman Doing Spoken Word Narration

Winner: King Krule “Bermondsey Bosom (Right)”

Framed as the later-album counterpart to “Bermondsey Bosom (Left),” “Bermondsey Bosom (Right)” is a jazzy and fluid track that uses Archy Ivan Marshall’s father to weave a brief but illustrative tale of darkness. Only one minute long, the song is a fantastic and moody diversion in an album that’s brimming over the top with unique ideas.

Runner-up: Feist - “Century”

As much as I like Feist’s Pleasure and her use of Pulps’ Jarvis Cocker on “Century,” this entry gets dinged solely for its mathematical inaccuracies. Next time you get this specific about the length of your dark night of the soul, make sure you fact check beforehand.

Most Anticipated Release of 2018

Finally, let’s end by looking forward at two records that I can’t wait to hear in 2018.

Winner: Snail Mail - Unknown Debut

From Tiny Desk performances to Matador co-signs, it’s been a banner year for Lindsey Jordan. Lovingly documented in my guide to female-fronted music in 2017, I first discovered Snail Mail back in May as they opened for Girlpool in concert. For the last song of their set, the group’s drummer and bassist left the stage, leaving frontwoman Lindsey Jordan alone in the spotlight facing a rapt audience. With just a guitar and a mic she played “Anytime, ” and I was left with my jaw on the floor. It was an awe-inspiring performance, one of my favorites of the year, and a moment that I’ll always remember. To see the traction they’ve gained over the past several months has been nothing short of incredible. Watching Jordan grow has already been rewarding, and her success is incredibly well-deserved. Snail Mail’s 2018 debut LP should be something else.

Runner-up: Shortly - Unknown Debut

Fronted by Alexandria Maniak, Shortly is a reverb-dripping emo act that I’d never heard of until I saw her open for Aaron West live. While Shortly only has two songs currently released, she’s already signed to Triple Crown records with a debut record scheduled for next spring. To say I was blown away by her live performance would be an understatement. Perhaps one of my favorite sets of the entire year, she took the whole room by surprise and had everyone listening with a hush by the time her first song was over. Based on what I saw, she’s currently on track to be the world’s next Julien Baker with sadder music, slower tunes, and more colorful hair. I absolutely cannot wait to see what the future holds for this promising artist.

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xephinatheeleven · 7 years ago

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The Pain of Assignment

Word Count: 8,028

Summary: What happens to traits when a host passes away?

Warnings: The beginning is sad angst/fluff

Parings: Platonic Only!

It took me forever to finish this, so I hope you all like it!

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