#the third image I’m actually pretty proud of she looks SO cool….pretty…. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

combat-wombatus · 4 years ago

Text

Crimson Snow

Pairing: Hawks (Takami Keigo) x Fem!Reader

Genre: angst :’) (a lil bit of fluff thrown in here and there)

Warnings: mentions of blood, character death.

WC: 7.8k. am i sorry? no.

Summary: Childhood friends doesn’t always equal lovers in the future. You wished that was the case, but ever since Keigo disappeared, you found it hard to believe in love again.

(A/N): this was. i had to write this. it wasn’t up for debate. finishing this at 4am in the morning aldksjfhajshd. spent a grant total of 2 days brainstorming & writing this fic. not proofread at all. heavily inspired by the song 小幸运 by Hebe Tien. i strongly suggest you give it a try and listen to it as you read this :p (for all my chinese speakers out there...let’s see how you deal with this heartbreak :’) so yeah. i’m actually...really really proud of this fic. i tried a new format with this, and i think i kinda like it. also i left the ending up to interpretation if you don’t read the epilogue. enjoy!

credit for this au goes to @wafflesandkruge

here’s the link to the music :)

youtube

The one constant in your life.

The boy who’d always been there for you, through the dark days and the cold nights, holding your hand through it all.

The one who’d held you when you broke down.

The one who’d tucked you under his wings as the skies crackled with energy, rain pouring from the heavens, and told you that no matter where you went, he’d stay with you. He’d keep you nice and dry, snuggled close to his body as he shielded you from the storm.

The one constant in your life.

He’d left quietly in the night, not stopping by to say farewell.

In his place, he’d left a lonesome letter, tucked away beneath a boulder on your special hill.

“I’ll come back for you. Wait for me, okay?”

And from within that plain white envelope, a single red feather floated out, carried on the autumn winds, drifting aimlessly.

Almost as if it were lost.

And in that moment, you felt as if you’d lost a part of yourself, a little piece of your soul.

You weren’t sure you were ever going to get it back.

Years passed. You waited. There was no sign of him

Not in the skies, not on the land, and even though you’d sometimes see him in the reflection of the water, sitting next to you as you told him about your day, he wasn’t really there either.

I won’t give up on him.

I’ll stay strong.

He told me he’d come back for me.

Against the test of time, your resolve never withered. It only grew, strong as steel, taking over the crevices in your heart where he’d left his mark.

I’ll wait for you, Kei.

But please…come back to me.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Your friend called out enthusiastically from her position on the couch. “Come look!”

“What?” You stepped out of the kitchen, only to be greeted by a familiar face, smirking on the TV screen.

“Look at him! He’s this new hero, and he’s only 18! (Y/N)! He’s our age! Isn’t he hot?” She pointed at his flickering image. “His hero name is Hawks!” Squealing, she turned to you. “Isn’t that so cool?”

You stood in shock, the glass of water that you had been holding slipped from your fingers and shattered onto the floor. Liquid pooled around your feet, soaking your slippers, but you made no move to step aside.

“Woah! (Y/N), are you okay?” She jumped off the couch, rushing towards you. “Hey, (Y/N)? He’s cute and all but…this is a little bit much, isn’t it?” She looked at you with concern, eyebrows drawing tighter when you didn’t respond.

“(Y/N) …what’s wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Shaking yourself from your daze, you averted your eyes. “Ahh, I’m sorry. Uh…I just, I never thought I’d see him again.”

“Wait, you know him?” Your friend looked at you, surprised. “(Y/N) …did he do something to you?” She asked softly. “If he did, I don’t care how cute he is, I’m gonna kick his ass to high heaven if need be. Someone like that shouldn’t be a hero.”

You shook your head, chuckling a little. “No…no, there’s no need to do that. It’s just…it’s been a long time, and I just didn’t expect to see him.”

“Ahh. Well, step out of that puddle! Come on, let’s grab you some paper towels.”

Hey!

It’s me, (Y/N). I…I saw you on TV today. You look…different. In a good way, I suppose. You’ve bulked up a bit.

You never used to smile like that though. Not like…like you were smiling for others. Seeing you smile for the camera, well…it made me sad.

But I’m happy that you’re ok. I think it would probably be hard for you to find me, since obviously I’m not on the news. So I’ll come find you instead, yeah? What do you say we catch up sometime?

I miss you. I’m in college now. I’m doing pretty good. You’re an overachiever, aren’t you? 18 years old and you already have your own agency.

Not that I’m complaining. Thanks for making it so easy for me to find you :)

So…let’s meet up sometime, when you have time? Maybe for some coffee? I know a quaint little place. It’s not too far away from your agency, three blocks to the right, turn left, and walk to the next intersection. It’s the corner shop. You can’t miss it.

I’ll wait for you there this Saturday, okay? I’ll do my work there. You can walk in whenever you have the time.

Your chicken, (Y/N)

Saturday came faster than you could prepare yourself. You checked your reflection repeatedly in the mirror, double-guessing your outfit decisions.

What if he doesn’t like it?

Is this too formal for a coffee date?

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Your friend barged into the bathroom. “I saw all the clothes on your bed! Are you going on a date?”

“Uh…just a meeting with an old friend. To catch up,” you explained.

She looked at you suspiciously. “Old friend…is it that guy on TV? Hawks?”

You grew flustered. “Err…yeah. If he got my letter.”

She looked you up and down, then dragged you into her closet. “Good thing I just went on a shopping spree last weekend then!” She pumped a fist excitedly in the air. “I’m giving you a makeover!”

Two hours later, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror once more. Your friend had put you through every single possible combination of outfits using both your closet and hers, and you had to agree that she had impeccable taste.

“Come on, you’re going to be late!” She shoved you out of the bathroom.

“I didn’t set a time!” You protested, laughing.

“Well, get your ass out of here! My boyfriend’s coming over!”

“So that’s the real reason you want me gone, hmm?” You teased her.

“Shush! Get out!”

Hawks was on patrol. You had been on his mind the entire week. Ever since your letter had reached his desk, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Thinking about you brought back happier times, and he wasn’t masochistic enough to give himself false hope.

No, it would be better for you to forget about him, and vice versa.

Still, he couldn’t stop himself. His body flew of its own accord, ignoring the sensibilities of his mind that screamed at it to stop.

Go back! The reasonable voice inside his head yelled.

Fly back!

His body refused to listen.

He found himself gently landing on a rooftop, right across the little café you told him to meet you at.

He even debated going inside. Just for a second. Just for a cup of coffee, to warm myself up in the chilly late-afternoon breeze, he told himself.

Then, he scoffed. Who was he kidding? If he went inside, he wouldn’t have the resolve to step back out before he saw you.

Shaking his head, he flew away as quickly as he could.

If he’d stayed a moment longer, he would’ve seen you walk down the street, humming a little tune to yourself.

Maybe then his resolve would’ve cracked.

Too bad he’ll never know.

Sitting alone at a table for two was an unpleasant feeling. Especially when you’re on your third drink, the waitress keeps eyeing you with pity, and you couldn’t concentrate on your work.

“Miss?” The waitress stopped by your table again. “Sorry to bother you, but we’re closing in 15 minutes.”

You checked the time on your laptop. Crap. It was already 5:15.

“Oh yeah, uhh, sorry to bother you!” You chuckle awkwardly. You quickly packed your books and laptop, dropped a $20 bill on the table, and hurried out the door. Walking home in silence, you tried your best not to feel too disappointed.

Maybe he just didn’t have time?

It’s ok. You’ll just ask him again, another time.

Another time.

You sent him countless letters. For the first year, at least. When he ignores all of them, you visit his agency in person.

As you walk through the glass doors, there’s a man sitting behind the reception desk.

“Hello, miss. How can I help you today?” He asks in the customary polite tone.

“I’m looking for Keigo. Hawks,” you answer, trying to hide your nervousness.

He looks at you suspiciously. “How do you know his first name?”

“We…we were childhood friends,” you tried to explain. “I…well, I haven’t seen him in a while.”

He took a closer look at you. “Can I ask for your name, miss?”

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

He sighed. “I’m afraid that you’ll have to leave the premises, Miss (Y/L/N). You’re not allowed to be here.”

What?

He hadn’t kicked you out before you told him your name.

“Why-” you started, but he cut you off.

“Miss (Y/L/N). I’m afraid that I have to ask you to leave, and don’t come back. Should I call security to escort you out?”

Holding back tears, you clutched your purse close to your chest and hurried out the glass doors, wishing nothing more than to shatter them into pieces.

You didn’t send any more letters after that.

Years pass. Every year on your birthday, Keigo gave you a feather.

“So I’ll always be with you,” he joked.

His feathers are extra durable, but time can wear down even the strongest things.

The last feather you got from him was ten years ago.

It can barely be considered a feather at this point, and you keep it in a special glass case so it can’t get any more worn down.

Ten years.

You’re turning 25 tomorrow.

Ten years of waiting around for him turned into ten years of watching him date other women. Ten years of hiding your pain every time another picture of him kissing a new girl graced the covers of the tabloids.

The first time, you cried yourself to sleep.

It wasn’t the last time.

Again and again, he breaks your heart.

By the third year, you convinced yourself to stop looking at the tabloids and the gossip sites.

By the fifth year, you scold yourself. You vow to stop crying over a stupid childhood crush.

By the seventh, you told yourself that you needed to forget about him. Step back into the dating ring, make out with someone else, and remove his presence entirely from your mind.

That didn’t work out.

Ten years.

It killed you to finally harden your resolve, but you told yourself that you couldn’t spend your whole life waiting for someone who was never going to love you back.

You’re turning 25 tomorrow, and you’re going to go on a date.

He’s watching you. He always is.

It makes him feel like a creepy stalker, but he can’t help it.

He watches you as you step into the restaurant, decked out in formal wear that looked amazing on you.

Going on a date. With someone who wasn’t him.

He stays on the rooftop, watching you through a window as you ate and laughed.

He wishes that he was the one making you laugh, that he was the one helping you order food from the menu, that he was the one sharing a dessert with you.

He’s selfish like that. It never does him any good.

He’s scared, really. Scared of commitment, tarnished by his time spent in the work program.

He sees you as the one thing in life that they can’t take away from him. You have this innocence, this purity that you always carry around with you, because you’re a part of a time when his life wasn’t so complicated.

He doesn’t want to shatter that illusion.

He never reached out to you because he’s scared.

He’s scared that he’ll break you.

He stopped sending you feathers, heart splintering every time your birthday comes around, hoping you’ll eventually forget him.

You don’t.

It’s not that you didn’t try.

No one else really interested you.

That is, until Masaki came along. He was bright, happy, always upbeat. He could find the words to cheer you up, to make a bad day that much better. He was attentive, caring, sweet.

He was everything that most people would look for in a partner.

And slowly, you began to open up to him too.

You fell into his embrace easier. You got a little happier when he came over for dinner.

You felt just a little safer when you were wrapped in his arms, a luxury you never thought you’d have.

Two years later, during a picnic date, he proposed.

You always had a love for picnic dates. Maybe because your first date, with Keigo, was a messy picnic affair during the spring, on top of a little hill where wildflowers bloomed and birds pecked at your leftovers.

“Stop!” You giggled, whipped cream smeared all over your cheeks. “You’re going to get it on my clothes!”

Keigo laughed, then popped another strawberry in your mouth. “You can wash that off later, silly! Just have fun!”

“It’s not fun when my clothes are all sticky,” you whined. “You try it! It feels gross!”

He smirked. “Oh really?”

Taking a strawberry, he dipped it in the container of cream you had brought, then stuck it down his shirt.

“Ha! Take that!” He gloated.

You stared at him in shock. “Did you just–”

“Yes I did! And it’s not gross at all, see?” He plucked the strawberry back out and shoved it in his mouth.

“Eww! Kei, that’s disgusting!”

“No it’s not, it still tastes like a strawberry! Mphm!” He chewed, licking his fingers.

He regretted that decision later, when bees swarmed the front of his shirt.

“Eek!” He shrieked, hopping backwards.

“Kei, take off your shirt!”

“It’s so sticky!” He yelped, trying to peel the front of his shirt away from his chest.

“I told you!”

“Hey, now is NOT the time for the ‘I told you so’ speech, okay?” He finally ripped his shirt off.

You couldn’t help it. You cackled.

“What now?” He looked at the bees feasting on his ruined tee.

“I told you so,” you teased him.

Taking one look at the devious glint in his eyes, you scooped up the picnic supplies and raced down the hill.

He followed, wings beating, taking off into the air. He reached you within seconds, tacking you to the ground.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” You struggled against him. “You know you’re fast when you fly!”

He looked at you mischievously. “And what about it?”

“You can’t race me like that when I’m on foot!”

“Who said we were racing?” His eyes locked on your lips. “I was just trying to catch up to you.”

You blushed, suddenly realizing how close his face was to yours.

“Kei–” you started.

“Can I kiss you?” He interrupted you, then quickly blushed. “I mean, only if you want to-”

You wrapped your hands in his hair, interrupting him with a kiss.

He tasted like the remnants of strawberries and cream, sweet honey on a beautiful spring day.

And it was a beautiful spring day.

Perhaps the last beautiful spring day you’d ever have, for the next spring, he was gone.

Beautiful spring days were few and far between. You’d learned that the hard way.

But today…you were inclined to think that it might be another one of those days.

Your boyfriend of two years had proposed on a beautiful spring day reminiscent of one long ago.

You supposed that this marked a series of firsts.

First date. First kiss. And now…a proposal.

You accept his proposal, tears in your eyes. He thinks that they’re tears of happiness, and in part, they are.

You don’t tell him that this was the one thing that you never thought you’d do. You feel like you’re betraying Keigo.

You have to remind yourself that he betrayed you first.

Half a year later, you have a wedding. It’s a small wedding, with only your families and close friends. You considered reaching out to Hawks’s hero agency, but decided to spare yourself the pain.

He’d moved on. So would you.

Unbeknownst to you, when the ceremony rolled around, Keigo was standing on a nearby rooftop, the wind blowing away his tears.

He couldn’t believe how beautiful you were.

He knew that he couldn’t have you, but didn’t you know that he was a sucker for pain? Watching you repeat the vows was like getting punched full-force in the gut, but the wind never returned to his lungs.

He felt empty inside. Something essential was missing, and he knew what it was, but he also knew that he couldn’t ever have it. Not if he wanted you to stay alive.

As the ceremony finished, he flew away into the sunset, and you caught a glimpse of his crimson wings, purely on accident. You shook your head in disbelief.

“Now I’m hallucinating too,” you muttered to yourself.

But no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself you imagined the whole thing, that final view made it so much harder for you to forget him.

Another year passed, and the seasons changed as they did. Spring flowing into summer, summer fading into autumn, autumn slowly drifting into winter.

Gradually, your new life engulfed you, the comfort of it all slowly draining away your doubts. Your husband was a good man. A faithful man. A caring man.

He held doors open for you and snuggled you on the couch. He played with your hair and made you breakfast in bed. He made it difficult for you not to love him.

You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to resist, anyways.

One night, you woke up in your shared bed, screaming in pain. Your lower back burned, almost as if you were getting branded.

Your husband woke up to the commotion. The bedsheets were stained with blood. Fresh, crimson, blood, all of it coming from you.

Whimpering, you laid limp as Masaki set you on your belly, trying to figure out the source of the injury. Taking a clean paper towel, he gingerly wiped the blood off of your raw skin, showing a tattoo emblazoned in gold ink.

Written in elegant cursive were three simple words.

Three words, but they hurt to look at.

(Y/N) …I’m sorry.

Your husband stared in shock. This didn’t happen. This couldn’t happen, could it? The only way someone got a tattoo like this was if their soulmate died, and, well…he was still very much alive.

He wasn’t your soulmate.

In this world, quirks weren’t the only strange thing.

Soulmates existed. But most never found out until it was too late.

When your soulmate died, their last words would be tattooed permanently on their other half’s skin in a bloody and painful process.

Their last moments would flash before the other’s eyes.

Nothing you could do. Nothing you could be sure of, until it was too late.

Fires blazed everywhere.

Building after building, it ate away at the crumbling city, tearing down everything in its path.

“Help!” A voice choked out, raspy from smoke intake. “There’s a beam—ugh—on my leg. I can’t get it off!”

A winged figure crouched on a burning rooftop, out of breath and utterly exhausted.

Backup wasn’t coming.

The whole city was burning.

Standing shakily, he sent the last of his feathers off to help the trapped woman.

“That’s it for me then, I suppose,” his smile wobbled slightly. “My work here is done.”

He couldn’t risk jumping off of the roof. His wings were stubs on his back, and only a single feather remained.

“That’s not enough for me to fly off, now is it?” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Oh, if only you could see me right now, (Y/N). You’d be proud. Saved more than 500 people today, you know that?” He sighed, sitting down on the roof. “Lost count somewhere around there. You were always proud of me, weren’t you? The only one that believed in me when I told myself I couldn’t fly.

You’re the one that taught me to fly, remember, chicken? Those were the good times.

Look at me now. Talking to myself. Don’t even have the strength to fly down anymore.” He coughed into his hand, blood staining his palm. He grasped tightly onto a keychain around his neck, smearing the metal with crimson.

“I never did thank you. Guess it’s too late now.” He stared up at the sky, hues of orange and gold dancing across the horizon.

“Never did treat you right.” He plucked his last feather off of his back, twirling it around in his fingers.

“You were always too good for me. Too good for anyone, really.” He laid down on the roof, back no longer sensitive to the burning heat.

“I lost the right to love you a long time ago. I’ve got no business crying over you.” He chuckled bitterly. “But is that going to stop me?”

Letting go of the keychain and his feather, his hands went limp.

“(Y/N),” he sighed, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The roof collapsed, the hungry flames licking at the bottom finally swallowing him whole. His comms fell out of his ear, the plastic melting in the heat.

A single red feather floated down to the ground, charred and blackened.

The only remains of his body they’ll ever find.

You were sobbing uncontrollably. Keigo.

He was your soulmate.

The boy you loved.

The one who’d abandoned you.

The one who you tried to forget.

He was your soulmate.

Your soulmate, who was dead.

“Turn…turn on the TV,” you whispered weakly. “Turn it on. I need to see.”

Masaki reached for the remote, flipping it on to the news channel.

“Earlier tonight, a bomb was detonated in Nagoya prefecture. Top heroes were on the scene, including Endeavor and Hawks, but their quirks are ill-suited to fight the conflagration. Endeavor has resorted to using brute strength to rescue people from the rubble, while Hawks hasn’t been seen since the beginning of the night. We are now reporting his status as MIA, and will continue to look for the Winged Hero, along with updating our reports on the status of missing civilians–”

You shut the TV off. You’d heard all you needed to.

Throwing on a mishmash of clothing, you sprinted out the door. Hailing a taxi, you hopped in before it had even screeched to a full stop.

“Hawks Hero Agency.” You told the driver, not bothering to mince your words. You hadn’t bothered to wipe all the blood off of your back either, so it was gradually staining your coat a deep crimson, a mocking parody of the way that Keigo’s feathers used to lay against his back.

His feathers that were burnt, charred, turned to ashes, no longer able to bring you the comfort they once had when they wrapped you in a warm embrace.

The driver looked concerned. “Miss, do you know what happened today? Hawks isn’t–”

“Yes, I know. Drive.”

You pressed your forehead against the window, breath steaming up the glass. It reminded you of one winter, when the two of you had been building snowmen, and your mother called you in for dinner.

“Kei, I have to go,” you tugged at his hand.

“Aww, (Y/N),” he kicked at an unfortunate stone with the scuffed toe of his boot. “Why can’t you stay a little longer? We haven’t finished his head yet.” He pouted.

“I can’t, Kei,” you tried to make him release his iron grip on your hand. “Mama’s gonna get mad.”

“Then I’ll make you stay!” He boldly declared, wrapping his little arms around your frame, tackling you to the snow-covered ground.

The two of you giggled, engaged in a tickle war, your mom’s voice fading into the distance.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)!” Your mom yelled, marching over to where the two of you lay, tangled in a heap. “Do you want to get a cold?”

“No, Mama,” you said, slowly getting up and dusting the snow off of your parka. “I’m coming.” You turned around and poked your tongue out at your friend, letting your mom drag you back into your house.

Keigo sat in the snow for a while longer, not exactly excited to go back to his house.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.

He beat his little wings as fast as he could, half flying, half stumbling to your kitchen window.

Sneaking a peek inside, he saw you staring questioningly back at him. Not bothering to hide his mischievous grin, he puffed out a breath, steaming the window, took his little glove off, and started writing.

“D O Y O U W A N T T O F L Y W I T H M E ?” He painstakingly wrote out.

You shook your head, and his grin quickly dropped from his face. Looking down, he almost missed the words you mouthed out.

“I can’t read it!” You tried your best to sign. “It’s backwards!”

“Oh!” He tried his best to write the mirror image of what he had just written, making sure that you could read it from your point of view this time. You read his little message, a grin taking over your face.

“Y E S!” You mouthed. “YES, YES, YES!”

Quickly scarfing down your dinner, you waved a hasty goodbye to your mom, racing out the back door, only to get tackled into the snow.

“Come on, let’s go!” He took ahold of your hand. “Race you!”

“You can’t race me if you’re holding my hand!” You shrieked in delight. “Stop it!”

He paused, turning around. “Hmm. Well, maybe I don’t want to race you then,” he looked at you with a small smile on his face. “I wanna try something new!”

“Oh?” You asked, seeing the way his eyes lit up with delight. “What is it?”

“I wanna fly! With you!”

Giggling, he turned you around so that your back was facing him. He circled his arms below your armpits.

“Hang on!” He flapped his wings as fast as he could, kicking up a storm of snow around you. To his surprise, he actually managed to lift the two of you off the ground for around 3 feet or so. He wasn’t expecting it to work on his first try, but the two of you really were flying!

Sighing, you turned away from the window.

Happier times, you chuckled mirthlessly.

Isn’t it sad that I’m only remembering them now?

The car screeched to a stop at the front door to the Hawks Hero Agency.

You stepped into the lobby, the fluorescent lights blinding.

It’s the middle of the night, but they don’t seem to mind, you thought. Everyone was bustling around the place like it was normal.

The receptionist had changed since you’d last been here.

She spotted you and hurried over, most likely because of the blood staining your clothes.

“Miss, are you hurt?” She gave you a once-over. “Can I help you?”

You stared at her in shock for a moment. What were you here for again?

“Oh…uh,” you wrung your hands nervously. “I’m here for Hawks.”

Her expression of concern melted away into one of annoyance. “Another fangirl. This one appears to be married too,” she scoffed at the band adorning your left ring finger. “People these days…” she muttered underneath her breath, already hurrying back to her desk, where the phone rang incessantly.

“No. I’m not a fangirl.” You lifted your head. You might be in pain, but damned if you were going to let a stranger strip you of the remaining shreds of your dignity.

“I’m his soulmate.”

The way you said that phrase with such conviction made the lady pause.

“Soulmate?” She questioned. Girls had tried this trick on her before, but…when asked to prove themselves, they merely responded with “oh, it’s just a feeling,” or “I just know it.”

Never once had anyone said this phrase with such confidence.

“Yes.” You shut your eyes, defiantly holding back tears. “You have comms, right? What did he say before the comms died?”

The lady stared back at you, a pang of sorrow shooting its way into her heart. You weren’t joking around, were you?

“I…yes, yes we do. What’s your name, miss?”

You sucked in a deep breath. “(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

She stared at you for another moment, then quietly pulled out her comms.

“He said…” she choked a little. “He said, ‘(Y/N) …I’m sorry.’ We weren’t sure who he was talking about. We assumed it was a civilian he wasn’t able to save,” she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. “Oh God…”

Quietly, she choked out another question. “Was it…was he talking about…you?”

You didn’t want to reply. You’d heard enough.

The lady didn’t try to stop you as you ran to the elevator, your fingertip pressing the “up” button so hard it bruised.

Quickly looking at the directory, you found his office.

“420.” You choked out a pained laugh. “He always did like messing around with people.”

Collapsing against the corner of the elevator, you wrapped your arms around your knees and lowered your head. You felt so goddamn tired.

Why did it have to be you?

Why couldn’t he break someone else’s heart?

Someone who was stronger?

Someone who could take this in stride and move on?

Why did the universe choose you?

The elevator bell dinged, rousing you from your thoughts. You stood up slowly, a trail of blood staining the place where you once sat.

Crimson, like the trail of feathers he’d (perhaps intentionally) shed during that game of hide and seek.

You buried your face into your hands.

Goddamnit, Keigo! Why does everything have to remind me of you?

You made your way into his office, most likely the messiest of all the top pro-hero offices. Paperwork was scattered everywhere, jackets strewn across the floor. You even saw a shoelace string laying on the carpet next to his desk.

It’s almost as if he’d always expected to come back.

Stepping cautiously over the objects that littered the ground, you came face-to-face with a cabinet next to his desk.

Snowglobes. So many snowglobes.

Snowglobes occupied every shelf of the cabinet, and the glass doors made it easy to examine the contents.

You squinted closely at them. They were all…different angles of the same scene, you realized.

The snow park above your houses.

He’d had snowglobes made.

They immortalized the place where the two of you played all day in the snow.

The place where he first learned how to fly, gliding off the hills like a paraglider.

The place where he’d picked you up and learned how to fly with another person’s life in his hands, hugging you close to his chest, reveling in your warmth.

In the spring, it was the place where he took you on your first picnic date.

The place where the two of you shared your first kiss.

The place where he left you his goodbye note, tucked away under the grounding weight of a boulder you used to lay on, basking in the sun’s warmth.

He’d had 12 snowglobes made. Your lucky number.

12 different angles that showcased the same scenery.

Suddenly, your legs wouldn’t carry your weight anymore. You leaned back into his chair, still smelling faintly of his scent.

How can someone’s scent not change over 13 years?

You closed your eyes, and quickly opened them again when you saw a pile of letters on the corner of the desk.

You weren’t sure why they caught your eye. They weren’t anything special, really. Plain white envelopes addressed in plain black print.

You took a closer look.

That was your name on the envelopes.

You leaned closer, quickly shuffling through them all.

Each and every single one of them was addressed to you.

Each and every single one of them was dated a year apart.

Each and every single one of them was marked for your various addresses over the years, his handwriting steadily improving.

You couldn’t resist your curiosity. Taking a paper cutter, you tore through the seal of the earliest envelope.

A single red feather, beautifully preserved, floated out.

You stared in shock. He…he didn’t forget.

He never forgot.

He just chose not to send it.

Hurriedly opening the remaining envelopes, you acquired more feathers, each fresher than the last.

By the end, you had a pile of 13 crimson feathers, right next to 13 shredded envelopes.

You looked around, confused. Why hadn’t he left a note? Any note?

Did he…did he never write letters?

You knew that you had sent him letters.

Maybe they did throw them out as spam.

Your curiosity piqued, you pulled open drawer after drawer, but none of them held anything of personal importance.

Finally, you came upon the bottom right drawer.

It was locked, you realized.

You carefully place the feathers back in their respective envelopes. Sealing them up once again, you carry them in a stack, making your way downstairs.

The agency workers saw you with the letters in your arms, not sure if they should stop you or not. When you looked to the receptionist and murmured a quiet “thank you”, they stood their ground. If she was okay with you walking away like this, then there shouldn’t be a reason that they wouldn’t be.

The taxi driver who took you here was still waiting outside. Seeing you arrive, he stomped out his cigarette butt and opened the backseat door for you.

“Rough night, miss?” He looked at your back, pity obvious in his expression. “Do you want me to take you to a hospital with that?”

You shook your head. “They can’t fix that. Do you remember the way we came?”

“Aye, yes I do,” he stepped into his own seat. “I’ll take you there right quick, miss. Don’t you worry.”

As you rode back home in silence, you couldn’t stop thinking about the cabinet in Keigo’s office.

The feathers, folded away safely in the envelopes you were holding.

If he never forgot, why did he never reach out?

The car door slamming shook you from your daze. “Miss, you’re back home.”

You stared at the man, realizing that you didn’t have your wallet on you.

“Do you mind waiting a second? I’ll go get my wallet now–”

He shook his head. “I know where that blood came from. See here?” He rolled up his sleeve.

“Got mine when I was 22,” a melancholy smile framed his face. “Rare, right? I never did find out who she was.

But the hospital staff helped me that day. Looked for deaths around my age, and then when I tried to pay ‘em, they refused. Said ‘twas only the right thing to do. Now I finally get to repay the favor. Don’t you go tryna pay me now. Won’t ‘ccept it.”

He leaned back against the hood of his car. When you opened your mouth to object, he merely saluted you, hopped back into the driver’s seat, and drove off into the night.

You turned to your house. The lights were still on inside, meaning your husband was still up. He probably couldn’t sleep, not after what had just happened. You couldn’t blame him.

Stepping inside, you heard muffled sobs coming from the kitchen.

“Masaki?” You leaned on the doorframe. He looked up at your voice.

“(Y/N)?” He rose from the table. “You’re…you’re okay,” he wrapped you in a hug.

You cleared your throat. “…yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” you hugged him back.

I’m okay, you tried to convince yourself.

“Where did you go?” He looked at you curiously. Finally seeing the envelopes in your arms, he paused.

“Babe?” He asked softly. “Did you…did you know him?”

You buried your face into his chest. “Yeah…yeah, I did.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked softly.

“Not really…not now…” you replied.

He patted your back lightly. “That’s ok. I understand.”

The rest of the night went by in a blur. The letters were scattered on your nightstand, your husband helping you into the shower. He’s changed the bloody sheets already, but the stains on the mattress were stubborn and refused to come out.

Crimson stains, in the shape of wings.

Days later, some people from the agency stopped by your house.

“Is there a (Y/N) (Y/L/N) at this address?” The receptionist from your earlier encounter knocked on the door.

“Uh, hi. Yeah, that’s me,” you answered, not bothering to change out of your bathrobe. Your complexion had grown waxen, face shallow. Your hair formed an unkempt nest, spiraling around your face.

She gave you a smile, pity etched in her face. It disgusted you, really.

All anyone ever gave you nowadays was pity. Pity cards from your coworkers, although you weren’t sure how the information leaked out. Pitiful glances from your husband, who insisted on doing all the chores around the house.

Pity, pity, pity.

“What is it?” You asked her.

“We have some…documents for you.” She waved over two guys, each lugging a large crate of…paper?

“Wait…all that? For me?” You were confused. There was no way that that bottom drawer, even if all it contained were letters, had that much paper in it.

“Yes, (Y/L/N)-san. It’s all for you.” The men dropped off their crates at your door.

“What’s going on?”

“These were stored in the records house. Hawks filed them. They were all addressed to you, so we felt that this was the proper treatment.”

“We’ll leave you to go through these in your own time.” She started down the steps. Then, as if remembering something suddenly, she paused.

“You know…he was a good man,” she smiled gently. “We all knew he had a secret someone. We just didn’t know who they were. I’m glad he found you. Hero work is dangerous, especially for top heroes like him.

I hope that you find joy in those letters.” She turned back and finished her journey down the steps.

You turned around and looked at the crates.

Found me?

You smiled bitterly, a brittle coldness taking over your heart.

He never really did find me, did he?

Sighing, you sorted through the crates, looking for the ones that were dated the earliest. You carried the oldest set of letters into the bedroom and tore open the first envelope.

Hey, (Y/N). It’s me, Kei.

I hope you haven’t forgotten about me. I mean, I’m not an easy person to forget, I suppose, but it has been a while. Three years, to be exact.

Three years can do a lot to a person.

I should know.

How are you doing? I hope you managed to keep Timothy alive. You were always prone to overwatering him.

I’m not sure how long cacti live, but…if you nurture something, anything can happen, right?

I’m a hero now. I’m sure you know. My debut was broadcasted all over national television. They just can’t resist making themselves look good, can they?

At least now I’m allowed to write. I hope you understand why I haven’t written to you in so long.

I didn’t forget about you. How could I? Even though we were only 15, how could I forget someone like you?

I missed you. I don’t think you understand how much. It felt so empty, living without you by my side. Like…like I wasn’t ever warm enough, even bundled in the tightest blankets. I was always missing you.

Sounds like a curse, eh?

But don’t worry. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I just wanted you to know that.

Yours, Kei.

Ripping open letter after letter, you realized that you held his entire life story in your hands.

Hey chicken. It’s Kei again.

Realized I’ve been treating these letters as a kind of diary. I guess it’s…therapeutic? Even though I know I’ll never send these. I don’t want to put you in danger, you know?

Do you remember when we were kids?

We had all the time in the world to do whatever we wanted.

I miss that time.

Not as much as I miss you though.

I check in on you every so often, but I make sure you never see.

False hope is a dangerous thing. It shatters your soul into pieces, and when you try and piece them back together, it cuts your heart so badly you wish you’d never started.

But, you see, you’re like a drug for me.

I can’t seem to stop myself. No matter how bad it hurts, I…I still come back.

You wouldn’t know, of course.

I suppose there’s a reason it hurts when you stare into the sun.

I’m already broken, yeah? I don’t want you to break with me.

The thing is, I know you’d want to. I know we promised we’d always come back for each other. We promised we’d always be here for each other.

But some promises were meant to be broken.

You can’t be here for me, birdie. You’ll get hurt.

That would hurt me more than anything else, (Y/N).

So for my own safety, and yours…

This is the last time I’ll write to you.

I have to move on, or else those pieces of my soul?

They’re already in splinters, but if I keep going like this, they’ll be nothing more than powder, and I don’t think I could go on like that, yeah?

I love you, forever and always.

Kei.

Ha. Guess what.

What I said in the last letter?

A fucking lie.

I physically. Can’t stop.

The thought of not writing to you breaks me more than the thought of never being with you, and that’s a milestone I never thought I’d be able to pass.

So here I am again.

You’ve already heard my entire life story.

I wish I could be there to hear yours.

I saw you tonight, standing on your balcony. You know, the stars were so bright tonight. Reminded me of your eyes the first time I flew with you around the whole field, yeah?

Sparkling. You never stop sparkling, do you?

You know…do you ever wonder who your soulmate is?

I know that the world is cruel. I know that we don’t know exactly who our soulmates are until one of us dies.

But…do you ever think about it?

Who’s out there, just waiting for you?

Because I do.

And sometimes, when I’m at rock bottom, I’ll imagine that we’re soulmates.

I’ll create scenarios in my head. We’d be happily married. I’d spoon-feed you ice cream.

We’d play tickle wars with my feathers, have pillow fights, binge TV shows.

We’d watch horror movies, and you’d hide your face in my chest the whole time.

But…those scenarios always make me feel worse after I wake up. Because they’re not real.

And I…I so desperately want them to be real.

But you can’t always get what you wish for, yeah?

Going on a big mission soon. Undercover. Cool, right?

You’d be proud of me, I think, if you saw me.

I have to go now. But I’ll come back safe for you, yeah?

I know you won’t wait for me. I want you to wait for me, but…I know it’s not in your best interests. Probably not in mine either.

Sometimes I try and convince myself that it’s okay to be selfish. I want what I want, and you only live once, right?

But then I realize that you’re the one I’d be putting in danger.

And that’s when I realize you can’t ever stay with me.

It’s okay. I’ll watch from afar.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop loving you.

Yours,

Kei.

You put the letter down and rummaged through the second crate, desperately trying to find the last letter that he wrote.

Hey birdie. Long time no see. Ha.

13 years and I still can’t forget about you. Doesn’t seem normal, does it?

I’m convinced that we’re soulmates, but then again, I may have convinced myself. You know…I used to hate the idea of soulmates. Sharing your life with another person, seen as incomplete without them?

Sharing my soul?

Bunch of crap, right? I like making my own decisions. Wasn’t ever much of a rule-stickler. But…you know…I’m starting to warm up to that idea.

But only with you.

And that’s why I’m convinced that we are, in fact, soulmates.

You don’t know how my heart breaks every time I see you. Manual is a good guy. I know he’s treating you well.

That’s the only reason I’m letting you stay married to him, really. If it was anyone else, I would’ve busted their ass.

But…you deserve someone like him. Someone who can give you their all.

Someone who, if you date them…they won’t lead you into danger.

Soulmates are a finicky concept, yeah?

So…I guess we’ll never know ‘till one of us dies.

Yours,

Kei.

Epilogue

Rainy winter days were the saddest days of the year.

Especially today.

Strolling through the park, you held a black umbrella in one hand and clutched a glass case tightly in the other.

You stopped in front of a marble headstone.

“Hey there,” your voice cracked.

“Miss me?”

A whistling wind, scattering powdered snow and frozen rain across the landscape, was your only answer.

“Kei, I–” You collapsed onto your knees, uncaring of whether or not the cold would seep in. It couldn’t get colder than your soul now, anyways.

“I…I didn’t go to your funeral.” Tears rolled down your cheeks, leaving a silvery sheen in their wake. “There were too many people and I…I couldn’t handle it.”

“But…Kei…” You choked out an ugly sob. “Why didn’t you send me the fucking letters?”

“I don’t care how dangerous your work was. You can’t get anywhere without taking risks in life, Kei!” You screamed at the marble façade, willing it to crumble.

“You can’t–”

“You can’t make my decisions for me!”

“I should be the one who gets to choose who I love!”

Your screams attracted the attention of several bystanders, who quickly averted their eyes and walked away when they saw your distraught state.

“You shouldn’t have tried to choose for me!”

“And now–”

“You’re dead, Kei! What am I supposed to do now?” Your tears pooled on the frozen ground, marking little dents in the snow.

You slammed your fists into the ground, the glass case in your hand cracking.

Another ugly sob made its way out.

“Kei–” you whimpered.

The glass shattered, splintering into thousands of tiny pieces, each fragment glittering like diamonds.

Slivers found their way into your palm.

Crimson blood, the color of the worn-out feather freed from its enclosure, splattered the snow-white ground.

“Kei,” you whispered, carefully placing the feather on top of the chiseled marble.

“Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy.”

Masterlist

221 notes · View notes

ghostgothgeek · 4 years ago

Text

Chaos.

Another for the Phic Phight! This one kinda combines two prompts and I had so much fun writing it! In this, Danny and Tucker don’t know Sam plays video games yet. 5,063 words.

"What do you mean you don’t feel the same way? We´ve had a mutual crush on each other for years." Sam says angrily after finally confessing her love to him. But Danny´s heart was beating hard for someone else entirely. Prompt by phantomfana.

Danny wants to ask his crush to the upcoming school dance. Prompt by Rikaleeta.

-----

It was another long night of ghost hunting for Danny. Technus took up the first part of the night, trying to take over the park’s new security system. Tucker was fortunately still awake to help him out with that. Then Johnny and Kitty rolled in, but they weren’t looking for trouble, they just wanted a date night and swore they wouldn’t be a problem. Apparently Fridays were their days off for “everything but each other”. Danny was a romantic, but he didn’t know if this was sweet or nauseating. Ember had put up a good fight, though. He was proud he only had one injury to tend to. He had dodged most of her attacks, but she was still a pretty advanced ghost. And, of course, Danny had caught the Box Ghost six, count them, SIX times. How did he always manage to get out?! He wasn’t difficult to take down, he was just a pest.

Danny sighed as he sat down at his computer chair. It was only 12:30 am, and it was a Friday. He could sleep in tomorrow and he deserved at least a couple hours of fun. He logged into his online gaming account and saw Tucker was online. Figures. He pulled up the chat anyway.

Astrohaunt: Hey Tuck. Still up?

Technopedia: You know it. Chaos signed on about a half hour ago and I’m not passing up the opportunity.

Astrohaunt: Dude is so good it’s unreal!

Technopedia: He goes to our school, I tracked one of his IP addresses and he logged in at school a few times.

Astrohaunt: Tucker wtf. That’s creepy!

Technopedia: I just want to make sure Chaos is actually a kid and not Lancer again!

Astrohaunt: I still can’t wrap my mind around Lancer playing Doomed…

Technopedia: Same. But Chaos IP is different from Lancer, so we good. Unless more teachers play Doomed.

Astrohaunt: I hate you for putting that image into my brain.

Technopedia: Sorry dude. But quick come join before someone else gets Chaos.

Danny, Tucker, and Chaos had made a great team. Whenever Chaos was around, they were actually able to progress through the game. They played several rounds until Tucker was caught by his mom and was forced to sign off, but Danny and Chaos kept playing.

TeamChaos: Hey, what’s up?

Astrohaunt: Omg dude you’re so awesome.

TeamChaos: Ha, thanks. Gotta blow off steam somehow.

Astrohaunt: Tell me about it! Between Lancer’s three projects and midterms and...other stuff...this is my only time to actually chill. I’ve been so stressed!

TeamChaos: Same. I did finish one of the projects though. I’m always here if you need to talk, you know.

Astrohaunt: Wow, I may just take you up on that offer. I’ve had a rough night.

TeamChaos: Lay it on me.

And so Danny, sparing the ghost hunting details, stayed up chatting with Chaos until 5 am. He got along really well with the guy, they had a lot of similar interests. This was just the first of many up-all-night conversations they shared. After a few months, Danny felt a special connection with Chaos, and yet, he didn’t even know his name!

Astrohaunt: We’ve been talking all these months and I still don’t know your name. I’m Danny.

TeamChaos: Oh, thought you knew. It’s Sam!

Astrohaunt: Hey! One of my best friends is named Sam!

TeamChaos: You don’t say!!!

The next day at school, Danny pulled Tucker over to him, whispering, “Dude, help. I think I might be gay....”

“What?!” Tucker shouted.

“Quiet, Tuck!”

“Okay, well uh...why?” Tucker sent him a weird look and took a step back.

“No, not you. Chaos. I think I have a crush on Chaos.” Danny ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to do! I never thought I’d be...you know. Chaos and I just have good conversations and he’s always there to listen to me when I need to vent. I thought maybe I found another best friend but...this is different. Chaos is so cool and I’m crushing and I don’t even know who he is or what he looks like! Or if he feels the same way! Maybe I’m just stupid and-”

“Dude, chill. You’re jumping too far ahead of yourself. Whichever way you, you know, swing...I’m still your best friend.” Tucker pulled out his PDA. “Let me see what I can find out. I know Chaos goes to our school.”

“Thanks, Tuck. As if being half ghost wasn’t hard enough! Oh, and he’s in our class, because he’s talked me through assignments and knows what they are and stuff. He’s almost as good as explaining things as Sam. Crap...Sam. Don’t tell her about this!” Danny started fidgeting.

“Well,” Tucker raised his eyebrows in surprise, “I can tell you with absolute certainty that Chaos is definitely a girl.”

“You found out who Chaos is?!”

“What, like it’s hard?” Tucker chuckled. “I traced the IP addresses she uses. I know who she is. So do you,” Tucker smirked, “It shocked me at first, but it makes total sense! And I can totally see why you like her.”

“Really?” Danny let out a breath in relief. “Okay that makes me feel a lot better...hey, maybe I can ask Chaos to the dance next Saturday!”

Tucker rested a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Go for it. Ask Sam. I’m almost positive she’ll say yes.”

“Okay, I will...wait, not Sam! Chaos!” Danny clarified. “Well, actually, I think Chaos told me her name was Sam. Ha, small world. I can’t wait to introduce Sam to Sam. I think they would really get along.”

Tucker busted out laughing, “Oh, dude. You go ahead and do that.” He left Danny standing there in the hallway, still laughing all the way to his next class.

Danny, a bit confused by Tucker’s laughter, shook his head and smiled to himself. Okay, good. He’d had enough identity crises to fill a lifetime. Chaos was definitely a girl. Now if he just knew Chaos returned his feelings, things might actually work out for him this time and he could actually have a girlfriend.

Meanwhile, Sam was having an internal debate of her own. Sitting in a class where the teacher couldn’t give two shits about what the students were doing, she had always used this class as her thinking time. Usually her thinking-about-Danny time. She nervously clicked her pen as she thought about recent events.

She and Danny spent so much time chatting online when they weren’t hanging out in person. Danny was a little bit more bold online, probably because he didn’t have to interact face-to-face or risk his pants falling down in public again. Online, they talked about everything. No topic was off limits. Plus, Sam felt like their friendship had only grown even stronger when they could chat online and not have to worry about blushing or getting teased by Tucker. Chatting online took away all the pressure and made it much easier to connect with Danny.

Danny hadn’t said anything yet, of course. He was probably scared. Hell, she was scared. She was already so in love with him, and getting closer online only further solidified that fact. She had never been in love before, and even though she hunts ghosts, this was more terrifying! She was fairly certain he returned her feelings, but both were too chicken to actually make that final step. They’ve been best friends forever. She didn’t want to mess up their already great dynamic or force Tucker to be the third wheel, though he did insist he was more than okay with that and encouraged them to finally get together.

Sam stopped clicking her pen as she suddenly remembered it was senior year. They hadn’t picked colleges yet, but whether they ended up going to the same school or not, things were going to change. Danny was very attractive, and going off to college meant girls may actually approach him when they didn’t know his parents were ghost fighters. The fact had never bothered Sam, but she did kind of like how it kept most girls at school from asking him out or giving him attention. Valerie had been a challenge, especially because she was a ghost hunter herself and probably wanted to get tips from his parents. Sam was glad that relationship ended relatively early. It was too hard on her. Joyous or not, though, she was still mad at Valerie for how she broke his heart.

But that was 2 years ago. They had all moved on and friendships were more or less mended across the board. This made Sam glance at her favorite picture of her and Danny. Tucker had taken the candid picture and it was now her phone’s background. In it, Danny was giving Sam a piggyback ride. Her arms were lightly strung around his neck, legs looped around his waist. Danny had kept going in the opposite direction Sam told him to go, which frustrated her but also made her laugh. She had rested her chin on his shoulder, her face pressed right up against his. Danny was looking at her and Tucker had captured that rare moment when Sam had a huge grin on her face, still laughing. She smiled at the picture. They would be okay no matter what. Their friendship would survive.

Anyway, Sam also realized she had already come close to losing Danny, in more ways than one. Whether it was to other girls or a ghost, there was always that anxiety stirring in her head that she could lose him entirely some day. Life was too short. She needed to take the plunge for both of them and just get them both over this hurdle, and they could finally, finally, actually get together.

Sam made her decision. It was now or never. She was going to tell him. Today. The trio was meeting up at Danny’s house later anyway, and if she got there early enough, she could talk to him before Tucker showed up and teased them about it. Sam firmly nodded her head to herself, a confirmation of her decision. It was finally time.

After school, Danny was pacing in his room, trying to figure out how he wanted to do this. Asking a girl to the dance wasn’t a huge deal, and yet at the same time, it was. He would rather ask in person, but he still didn’t know what Chaos looked like, so asking in person seemed to be off the table. He could look in the yearbook for all the girls named Sam at their school. He could already omit one Sam Manson from that list. How many Sams could possibly attend their school? It would be easier to ask Tucker, though. Tucker already knew who she was. Sam and Tucker were on their way over right now. When Sam wasn’t paying attention, he could ask Tucker for Sam’s full name.

Chaos Sam, not best friend Sam. God, this was so confusing. Why were girls so hard for him? Freshman year, Paulina only liked his ghost half and wouldn’t give his human half the time of day. Sophomore year, Valerie hated his ghost half and that hatred was more important to her than her feelings for his human half. Junior year, he had been denying that he was in love with his best friend. And now that he had finally accepted that he did like his best friend as much more than a friend, a new girl entered the picture and he now found himself trying to choose between two Sams. Because it apparently wasn’t hard enough for him already to make the biggest and most important change he could possibly make in a friendship, let’s add another crush to the mix and give them the same name.

Sam. Best friend Sam - that’s who he was planning on asking originally, even if he chickened out and had to ask her as a friend instead. Plus, he and Sam had somehow gotten closer recently, and he was pretty sure she liked him. Sure, it was only because Tucker told him so, but it was a possibility. The thing was, he didn’t want to ruin things. Especially because he truly didn’t know how Sam, best friend Sam, felt about him. She was a tough and courageous girl, surely she would have said something by now if it were true. So Tucker must be pulling his leg.

But he did have another option - Chaos Sam, who may actually return his feelings. Sure, the feelings weren’t nearly as strong as what he felt for his best friend, but the feelings were still there. Plus, if he got rejected by Chaos, it would be less heartbreaking than being rejected by Sam, someone he had known for years rather than months. He could deal with losing a newer friend, but not one of his best friends. Sam was too important and he knew he needed her in his life.

Danny sighed. This was really hard, but he made a decision. It was easier to go with Chaos than risk ruining things with Sam. Danny had enough drama going on in his life already, he needed an easy win.

He broke from his thoughts when the doorbell rang. He ran downstairs and opened it, only slightly surprised to see Sam there. She was usually early for things. He and Tuck were more prone to being late.

“Hey, Sam. Come on in!” Danny moved so Sam could enter his house. He shut the door and followed her upstairs and back to his room as she returned his greeting. She was pacing the same path he just had, muttering quietly to herself. She looked nervous. “Something on your mind?”

Sam was startled out of her thoughts. “Huh? Oh yeah.” She noticed his disheveled appearance, also noting he was fidgety. Was he going to do what she was about to do? “What about you, you look like you’ve been thinking a little too hard about something.” She smiled softly.

Danny chuckled, “Yeah, but it’ll resolve itself soon. I’ll worry about it after the movies. Tuck should be here any second. Oh, but I’m glad you’re early. Can you help me with something quick?”

“Of course.” Sam followed him to his desk, smiling and rolling her eyes when he pointed to a homework problem. “I should have known.”

Danny gave her a lopsided smile and watched as she showed him how to do the problem in her perfect handwriting. It took no more than a couple of minutes. Now, they were just waiting for Tucker to arrive.

Sam looked at the time. He would be here soon. She needed to do this now. She needed to tell Danny. She couldn’t wait until after the movies for him to tell her. She had already waited long enough and couldn’t bear another second.

“Danny, can I talk to you for a second?” She sat down on his bed and gestured for him to do the same.

Danny could sense the seriousness in her voice, and nodded anxiously. He was scared when Sam was serious about things. It was usually something bad.

“Danny…” She decided to get straight to the point. “I like you. As in like-like you. More than like, and more than a friend. And we’ve been doing this dancing around for at least 4 years now and I’m sick of it. I just want to be with you already. What do you say?” Sam held her breath as she waited for Danny to answer.

He stared at her with wide eyes before nervously rubbing the back of his neck and turning his attention to his shoes, avoiding eye contact with the goth. God, why him?! He had stupidly thought, for once, things would be easier for him this time. He had already sent an offline message to Chaos that he wanted to ask her something, and then Sam had to come along and tell him what he had wanted to hear for some time now. But he couldn’t blow Chaos off when he had already somewhat asked. Of course, his life just had to be complicated every step of the way. He really liked both girls and didn’t want to hurt his best friend. Regardless, he had to be honest. He owed Sam that much. “Well, I mean, yeah, but…”

“But what?” Sam whispered, clearly already upset. Fuck. Fuck fuck FUCK. This was exactly what he didn’t want to happen. He decided to try going with Chaos so he could avoid heartbreak from his best friend. The very thing he had been so afraid of, he was doing to her right now.

Danny sighed again. “But I can’t. I’m so sorry, Sam.” It was hard to choke out, but he said it, and he felt terrible. He pressed his lips together and kept staring at his shoes until Sam lifted his chin up, forcing him to look at her.

“What do you mean you don’t feel the same way? We’ve had mutual crushes on each other for years!” Sam said angrily, feeling her heart break as her best friend and love of her life rejected her confession of love. She was so sure he returned her feelings! Especially after all the great conversations they had shared online these last few months. “Or, at least, I thought we did.” Tears swelled in her eyes. Did he lead her on? “I-I need an explanation, Danny,” she quietly stated after he didn’t continue.

Danny frowned and his heart ached. He didn’t want to hurt his best friend like this. Hell, he really liked her! Of course their crushes were mutual! And if this had happened 6 months ago instead of now, he would have jumped at the chance. But now...now he had Chaos and already forced himself to stick with his decision. It was easy with Chaos; there was no friendship to risk, no denying of being lovebirds or brushing off kisses as fakeout makeouts. Plus, he couldn’t lie to his best friend. She would know if he was lying. And he already told himself she deserved the truth. “There’s...someone else…”

“What?” Sam whispered before turning angry again, “Paulina? Valerie? Star?” she spat out.

Danny shook his head, “Ew, no...it’s someone I met online...I’m so sorry, Sam. I like you a lot, I really do, but I think I’ve already come to the conclusion that I like this girl I met online, Chaos, and I have to try to see that through.”

Many emotions crossed Sam’s face as she pieced together what he just said. At first she was upset, but as he explained himself, she felt disbelief, confusion, anger, and finally, hope. He couldn’t really be that clueless, right? “Show me.”

“Huh? I mean, I don’t actually know what she looks like, but we message every night and she really understands me! I know it sounds ridiculous, but-”

“Show me,” Sam repeated. “Show me her profile.”

“You’re not going to hurt her, are you?” Danny questioned cautiously.

“No, of course not. Just shut up and show me the profile.” Sam was more calm now, and that was kind of scary. Even though Sam said she wouldn’t hurt Chaos, he didn’t want to give her the chance. But he knew how stubborn his friend was, and eventually in whatever way, she would force the information out of him.

Danny sighed and pulled up the profile to show Sam. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’m still your best frien-”

“Shut up.” Sam scrolled through what Danny pulled up for her and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Closing her eyes slowly, she took a deep breath. “Didn’t Chaos tell you her name?”

“Uh,” Danny thought, “oh yeah! She said her name was Sam, because I thought she was a boy at first and I had an existential crisis, but then Tucker told me-”

“Danny. I’m Sam.”

“No I know, and sure it’ll be a little weird cause you’re Sam and she’s Sam, it’s confusing, but I-”

Sam interrupted him once again. She could hear Tucker’s footsteps approaching. She was running out of time to not make this a spectacle. “No, Danny. Chaos. Sam. Me. I’m Sam. I am Sam,”

Tucker only heard the tail end of the conversation as he entered the room. Never able to pass up a comedic opportunity, he smirked and added “I am Sam. Sam I am. I do not like green eggs and ham!”

It was suddenly silent in the room as his friends seized conversation and glared at him. Oops.

“Oh, am I interrupting something?” Tucker could see the fire in Sam’s eyes. “Uh, oh wait I forgot my...sock. I’ll be downstairs!” He raced out of the room.

Sam turned her attention back to Danny. “No, you stupid fucking MORON. I am Chaos. You’ve been talking to me the whole time. I thought you knew that!” Danny stared at her blankly until she pulled out her phone and he watched her log into her account, proving it to him. Sure enough, it was Chaos’s profile. He could see all the direct messages between them, including his offline message about wanting to ask her something.

“Wait, you? You’re Sam? I mean, Chaos? I mean Sam?” Danny looked back and forth between the profile and his best friend.

“UGH!” Sam shouted as she threw her hands in the air. “Yes, Danny. That’s me! Did you really not notice that Chaos was the same age as me and a girl who goes to our school? We have the same name and interests! Didn’t you wonder why it was so easy to talk right off the bat? I thought you put that all together and us just pretending to not know each other was a little bit you were trying to do or something!”

Danny stared at her as he continued to piece it all together. He was definitely embarrassed. He felt so stupid. How could he not tell that Chaos was Sam, his best friend since 7th grade? Talk about being totally clueless.

Wait. Clueless? Well, fuck! He got the nickname now!

His eyes flickered back and forth as he thought everything through. Eventually, he started to crack a smile. “Wait, so I’ve had a crush on you and also you? You’re the same person! This is great! Do you know what this means?!”

Sam slapped her forehead and began walking downstairs. “I don’t even know if this is worth it anymore…”

“Wait, how come Tuck and I never knew you played video games! We can enter team tournaments! You’re so good!” Danny chased after her.

Tucker watched as Sam grumbled about Danny caring more about video games than her. An excited Danny was right on her tail.

“Tucker! Sam is Chaos! I’ve been in love with Sam this whole time!” Danny explained.

“Tucker, I need you to refrain me from slapping his stupid clueless face,” Sam started.

“Wait, you didn’t know Sam was Chaos? Dude! I thought I was obvious about that!” Tucker began laughing at Danny.

“I know, so did I.” Sam crossed her arms over her chest.

“Danny, you can calculate levels of rocket fuel and figure out how to get us to Mercury or something,” Tucker started.

“Mars, actually,” Danny corrected.

“But you can’t figure out that your best friend and your crush are the same person? You’re more than Captain Clueless, you’re like….Lieutenant Clueless? That’s like, bigger right?” Tucker continued.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Tuck,” Sam chimed in.

“Shut up Sam, this isn’t about you,” Tucker immediately stopped his train of thought when he felt Sam glaring daggers at him. “Heh, uh. Except it does. It actually has nothing to do with me. I’m sorry I told you to shut up, please don’t hurt me!” He threw his hands up in front of himself in defense.

“Relax, Tucker. I’m more angry with this fucking dingus,” she pointed her thumb in Danny’s direction.

The halfa was about to protest, then closed his mouth. “That’s fair, I deserve that.”

“I can’t even look at you right now. You scared me! I poured out my emotions to you. I thought you were rejecting me and that I would have to change my name and move to a different country! Wait, are you still rejecting me?” Sam stopped her pacing to look at him.

“Of course not, Sammy!”

“Oh don’t you ‘Sammy’ me! I told you I love you, you stupid fucking idiot!” Sam began throwing pillows at Danny, who expertly dodged them (though as a result, Tucker got hit in the face by one).

“Technically, you didn’t say ‘love’ you said ‘like’”, Danny offered as Tucker shook his head and slashed finger across his neck, signaling Danny to stop talking.

“Oh, I’m sorry! This is all my fault! I’m going to go jump off a cliff now!” Sam growled and Danny let out a small “oomph” as one of the pillows finally got him.

“I’m out. Good luck, bro!” Tucker quickly slipped out the door, leaving Danny and Sam alone.

Sam was about to follow Tucker out when Danny stopped her, “please don’t leave!” She still had angry tears in her eyes. He frowned. This was not how he expected things to go. She watched him for a few seconds before sitting down on the couch, refusing to look at him. “Sam I’m so sorry, this is just a huge misunderstanding.”

“No, Danny. It’s not. You were going to turn me down to go out with someone else.”

“But that someone was still you!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know that! We’ve been friends for years, and you were more interested in someone you just met a few months ago! I don’t want to be anyone’s second choice, Danny! I’ve been standing by for years as you continuously chose other girls over me. I thought we were done with that, and that you were finally choosing me first, but you won’t and you never will and I’m so stupid.” Sam put her head in her hands as she tried her hardest not to let tears fall.

And that was when he finally figured it out. It wasn’t just the moment of rejection, it was years of rejection, and at her biggest confession, she still thought he was choosing someone over her. Not to mention, Tucker witnessed most of the conversation. Sam rarely showed her emotions. She always had her heart guarded, and he knew this. Tucker knew this. Hell, she didn’t even tell them she was rich until after a few years of friendship. It took them a while to get her to open up to them. She was a pretty private person. She was probably already hurt like this before. And now, she was probably embarrassed.

“You’re definitely not stupid. I’m stupid. I should have known it was you. That was actually what I really liked about Chaos, she reminded me of you.”

Sam forced a small sarcastic laugh, “Yeah, right.”

“No really,” Danny sat on the couch next to her and grabbed her hand, placing it in both of his. “Sam, you’re absolutely incredible. How dumb would I have to be to not notice?” Sam gave him a pointed look. “Okay yeah but it’s not the way you think it is. I liked Chaos because she was a lot like you. She reminded me of you. And it just seemed easier to go with her because she was basically you, but she and I didn’t have a really great friendship that could have gotten ruined if we broke up or something. I could live without her, but I can’t live without you. You’re always my number one. Always have been, always will be. Even if I did just fuck everything up. I’m so sorry, Sam. I’m ready to be with you, if you’ll still have me.”

Sam stayed silent and stared at her lap, processing this new information. Of course she would forgive him; she always did. She just needed a little time.

Danny was getting nervous that he really did fuck this up for good. This was so fucking important! He couldn’t risk fucking this up! Sensing her hesitation, Danny tried one more thing to get her back. One thing he hasn’t done before. One thing he just learned how to perfect.

“Sammy, I’m sorry,” a duplicate popped up next to her on the other side of the couch, startling her.

“Please forgive me?” Another duplicate was floating in front of her, hanging upside down, hair flopping all over the place.

“I know I’m a dummy but,” Sam snapped her head towards a third duplicate.

“I’m only a dummy because I’m in love. With you,” the real Danny finished. Sam looked back and forth between all the Dannys.

“We’re sorry, Sammy,” all the duplicates said at once.

Sam was trying really hard to hold back a smile. “You learned how to duplicate,” she stated simply.

Original Danny grabbed her hands. “Sam. I will make this up to you. I promise.”

She could hear the determination in his voice and sighed. “You better.”

Danny smiled and hugged her. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!! I love you so much!”

Sam pushed him off of her. “I love you too, you fucking idiot.”

“But I get to be your idiot!” Sam couldn’t hold her laughter back anymore. “Oh!” Danny shouted, “Will you go to the dance with me? Please?”

Sam pretended to ponder the answer before saying “alright”.

“Yay!” All 4 Dannys cheered. The duplicates on either side of her kissed her cheeks as the real Danny kissed her forehead tenderly. The final duplicate, feeling left out, squeezed his way in to give her a hug.

Sam was now roaring with laughter before kissing the real Danny sweetly. “You know, duplicates won’t always get you out of trouble,” she warned.

“Yeah, but they could come in handy for other things,” he wagged his eyebrows up and down suggestively before passionately kissing her, the duplicates kissing her neck and touching her in near-dangerous places.

Sam bit back a moan, eyes lustful before smirking, “I think you just found a way to make it up to me.” She began dragging the real Danny and one of his duplicates back to his room. Fuck the movies.

#phic phight 2021 #danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #amethyst ocean #also yes I took a prompt that was kinda anti-AO and turned it into AO #it's my super power #AO ho 4 life #stephanie writes sometimes

76 notes · View notes

transthaumaturge · 4 years ago

Text

Squirrel Girl is Super Gay for her Roommate and I Want Everyone to Know

A gay infodump of sensible length by Rachel Tikvah

ALRIGHT, SO The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl was the very first comic that I ever read regularly, back when I was looking for more stories with strong female protagonists but didn't really know why. Back then I just thought I really liked strong female characters and not that I was being gay on main, but now I know the truth. The comic had a 5-year run, and it was the first time that Squirrel Girl, AKA Doreen Green, had had her own series. She had a brief run in the mid-2000's where she was established as someone who could beat up Thanos with her bare hands well, more like squirrel hands but was mostly a joke character that happened to be incredibly buff and had indestructible plot armor. USG decided that Doreen's next major life goal would be to enroll in college to become a computer scientist, because her writer, Ryan North, is really into computer science and they basically gave him free rein over Squirrel Girl canon for five whole years. Like, a solid third of the plots are solved with some kind of computer science smarts. It’s really cool. Anyway this is Doreen in one of the gayest solo pictures I could find of her on short notice, which is also one of the variant covers from the actual series:

And this is her college roommate, Nancy Whitehead:

I'm like, 99% certain that Ryan North intended for them to end up as a couple and Disney!Marvel told him no. So he decided to make them AS GAY FOR EACH OTHER AS POSSIBLE without explicitly saying that they were a couple, and it ended up going under the radar. What follows is evidence for that claim. I’m going to put a "read more” after this so it doesn’t clutter everyone’s dashboards, but please read on if you’re interested. There’s a lot of cute gayness after this point. I’m also going to put all of the image descriptions at the end, since they take up a lot of space and I don’t want to break up the flow of the post. Finally, a quick spoiler alert for one arc in the middle of the series and a couple major plot points from the final few issues.

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES

So for a while it was just kind of hinted at that they’re in a relationship, mostly because they were basically domestic life partners for like, two whole years in-universe before the comic run ended. But it really came to a head with an arc that was ran about 2/3 of the way through the series. Some pictures of them being, like, so cute together in general and/or talking about how much they care about each other before I get to that arc, though:

Also Doreen describes her and Nancy's cat as "co-parented" in one of the last issues:

ANYWAY, THE ARC. THE HYPERTIME ARC. So one of the villains created for the Squirrel Girl run (I think they liked making weird shit canon just because they could) was a dude who went by the name "EpicCrimez". He’s a crime streamer. He livestreams his crimes to an online audience. I don't know. *Throws up hands*

He had some kind of laser gun that he built out of scavenged alien tech but didn't really know what it did, so he shot it at Doreen and Nancy for kicks. It shot them into hypertime, so suddenly the rest of the world was moving at a fraction of the pace that they were. They were moving so quickly that they were slated to live out their entire lives over the span of a single weekend if they didn't figure out how to reverse the effects. And...they did. Live out their entire lives together. For the two of them, they were the only two people in the world. There were other people, but they looked like statues unless you spent a very long time observing them. Doreen and Nancy grew old together in a world where they only had each other. This is an incredibly cute domestic scene from a little while after they found themselves in hypertime:

Gosh, I wish I could find more official art from that arc of them just living together, it was so good. But the point is, they were both old by the time that Nancy figured out how to get them out of hypertime. And it wasn't ideal. Their bio signatures were stored in the gun that EpicCrimez shot, and they could essentially "reboot" their bodies from when they were first shot and send themselves back into the regular timestream. But they wouldn't remember anything about the life that they had shared together. Nancy almost didn't want to do it. She raised the possibility of them just living out the rest of their lives together, because she didn't want to forget their life together. This is the conversation they had:

"I don't regret any of it. I don't want to lose it, and I don't want to lose us." "You're not getting rid of me that easily." Every time I look at that last picture, which took up an entire page of the comic, I start to cry. We’re seeing the final moments of two people who love each other more than anything, who were each other's entire lives, savoring their last moments together and wondering what the future holds. Sacrificing the life that they built together so that their younger selves could live a better, fuller one. Dying in each other’s arms, scared but comforted by the fact that they had each other. And then the arc ends, and they can't remember anything, so the status quo is restored. They have some paintings they made of each other while they were living together in hypertime, but they move on pretty quickly without ever knowing the significance of those lived decades. Still, it's clear in the arcs that follow and the adventures they embarked on afterward that they would die for each other. All of that continues until the end of the last arc. Their shared apartment's been blown up at this point by a supervillain who wanted to ruin Doreen’s life before eventually killing her. And in the aftermath of the fight, they're sifting through the wreckage for anything that survived (don't worry, the cat got out in time) when they find the picture that they painted of themselves during the hypertime arc:

They have a really cute conversation about how this chapter of their life is over, but they're going to be okay and they're going to build a new life together. And then Nancy basically tells Doreen that she can't live without her:

And then Doreen says something super queer-coded about how she likes the idea of the world knowing her secret identity now:

On the very last page of the comic, after all of the action is over and the series is about to end, they're talking to each other in what's supposed to be a twitter thread and Doreen asks Nancy a very thinly veiled question about whether she still wants to spend time with her now that her identity's out. She pretends it's about a class project, but it's really not about the class project. Here's how that conversation goes:

With no knowledge of what happened during the weekend when they shared their entire lives together, without ever having heard Doreen say it to her before, Nancy’s heart still knows which words to choose. "...you're not getting rid of me that easily. <3" I believe that the author of the series, Ryan North, did as much as he possibly could to portray them as a couple without saying it outright. And as the last piece of evidence to support that claim, I want to share a response he wrote in one of the series' last-ever letter columns:

"as for more Doreen and Nancy, I hope so too. A Squirrel Girl book without Nancy would feel like--like--like some sort of hypothetical "Super" "Man" book without an equally hypothetical "Lois" "Lane"!" It's easy to write off this analysis as wishful thinking, or as a misreading of the subtext. But when the author of the series says that these two characters are meant to always be together and compares them to one of the most famous couples in any comic series ever, it's clear that there's more to it than that.

Some Additional Thoughts: 1) Doreen and Nancy are both probably bisexual or pansexual, since they both expressed romantic interest in men throughout the series but they’re both clearly interested in each other too. There might be an element of demiromanticism there as well if part of the reason that they’re into each other romantically is because of how emotionally close they’ve become over the years. I want to make sure that that facet of their romantic orientations doesn’t get erased, because bi and pan folks get erased enough as it is. Neither Doreen nor Nancy are lesbians, just super-cool WLWs.

2) HERE’S WHAT THE ISSUE 50 VARIANT COVER LOOKED LIKE

That’s NOT a fun, totally straight way to pose with your platonic gal pal. They’re so incredibly cute together! I have no words! In Closing If you got this far, thank you so much for letting me talk to you about a comic that’s very important to me, and a couple in that comic that I care about very much. I spent way too long making this (six hours and counting), mostly in writing the image descriptions, and I’m very proud of my work but very tired now. Hyperfixation is a hell of a drug. If this resonated with you, please consider reblogging it so that more folks can see it. If not, even a like is nice. I’d also love to engage with people who have their own thoughts, so feel free to leave some comments in the notes if you’ve got an idea/a reaction/any additional cute Doreen/Nancy scenes that you’d like to share with me. At any rate, this post has gone on long enough and I don’t want to ask y’all to read any more than you have to. So have a great day, good morning / afternoon / night, and stay safe. Thanks again for reading! ~Rachel Tikvah, AKA @transthaumaturge Image Descriptions: Image 1: [ID: Squirrel Girl, a young woman with light skin, is posing in front of a brick wall that she seems to have crashed through, leaving a perfect outline of her body. She’s facing away but looking backwards over her shoulder at us and smiling. She’s flexing upward with her right arm and has her left fist resting on her left hip. Her sidekick, a squirrel named Tippy-Toe, is standing in the cutout she left in the wall and is making the same exact pose while wearing a light pink bow around her neck. Squirrel Girl is wearing brown lace-up boots, fur-lined hot pants over grey tights, and a brown fur-lined jacket with sleeves that come up to her forearms and a symbol of an acorn embroidered into the back. She’s also wearing a hairband with fake squirrel ears on it over short reddish-brown hair. She has a large squirrel tail coming out of her hot pants that sweeps down in a curve behind her lower legs. The illustration is drawn so that everything is bathed in the light of a sunset, and Doreen is casting shadows on the wall in front of her.] Image 2: [ID: Two frames depicting a scene between Doreen and Nancy in their college dorm room, with many cardboard boxes still not unpacked and sitting on a bare bed mattress. Nancy Whitehead is a young woman with dark brown skin and short, curly black hair. She's wearing black tights, a white dress-top, and a yellow cardigan over that. Her arms are crossed as she holds her white cat, Mew, against her chest. Doreen is wearing grey tights and a black long-sleeve shirt with a wide collar and white stripes across the chest. She's holding Tippy-Toe up to Nancy with both hands so she can see her better. The following dialogue ensues: Nancy: "A squirrel? But weren't you the one who was all about pets not being allowed in--" Doreen: "Yeah, I know. But this really interesting person I met today told me that obeying an unjust law is itself unjust." Nancy: "...You know, I was worried I'd get a weird roommate, but you're all right, Doreen Green."] Image 3: [ID: Doreen and Nancy are both sitting on a lavender-pink couch in nightclothes. Doreen has short, orange hair. She is wearing a loose-fitting grey long-sleeve shirt and steel-blue cutoff shorts; Nancy has cropped black hair. She is wearing a dark purple top with sleeves that come down to her upper arms, and loose-fitting navy-blue shorts that come down to her lower thighs. Doreen is side-hugging Nancy as she says, with an ecstatically happy smile, “Nancy, you’re the greatest. You know that, right?” Nancy gives Doreen a full smile as she responds, “I’d always suspected it, but it is nice to have it confirmed.”] Image 4: [ID: Nancy is shown from the shoulders up. She has short, curly black hair. She’s wearing large, disc-shaped gold dangle earrings, and a red jacket with prominent shoulders and a yellow collar. She’s fixing the observer with an angry, determined stare as she says, “She knows this man wouldn’t dream about betraying her, or he’d have to answer to me.”] Image 5: [ID: Doreen and Nancy are eating breakfast at the brown, circular kitchen table in their apartment. Doreen’s wearing a skin-tight athletic crop top that’s striped in black, red, white, and blue. Her arm muscles are well-defined and clearly visible as she puts a spoon in her mouth, closing her eyes as she does so. She has a bowl of cereal in front of her, and half a banana in front of that. Nancy is sitting to her left in a pink camisole top that’s also exposing her muscles, scrolling through something on her smartphone. Her hair is in a yellow fabric wrap that’s knotted on one side of her head. A cup of coffee sits in front of her. The clear blue sky is visible through the window centered on the wall behind them.] Image 6: [ID: Nancy and Doreen are facing away from the vantage point, walking towards an Empire State University campus building and holding hands with their fingers intertwined. Nancy is wearing a long knee-length grey coat and black knee-high boots, with a baby-blue side bag hanging from her left shoulder. Doreen is wearing a magenta sweatshirt with the periwinkle-lined hood down, light brown form-fitting denim pants, and black ankle-high boots, with a dark brown side bag hanging from her right shoulder. Trees and bushes hem the walkway in on either side. The building in front of them is dark red, with glass doors and a row of floor-to-ceiling windows on the second floor. Doreen is saying “...we’re just going to have to take the long way around.”] Image 7: [ID: Doreen is facing towards the vantage point and is visible from the legs up, standing in front of a pile of rubble in the background. She’s wearing high-waisted light blue shorts over black tights, and a red windbreaker with sleeves ending at her upper arms that’s opened to reveal a white t-shirt underneath. Tippy-Toe is sitting on her shoulder. There are two people facing Doreen, each slightly in frame and silhouetted in black against the light of the setting sun. Doreen is fixing them with an angry, determined expression, resting her right fist at her hip while she gesticulates with her left hand and says, “So! I don’t know about you all, but Melissa kidnapping my friend and blowing up my life and my house and almost blowing up my co-parented cat makes me feel like giving her a piece of my mind. Friends...”] Image 8: [ID: A full comic page. EpicCrimez is looking like a dork in a green and black skin-tight jumpsuit, bright red ski goggles, and a green wig cap with his brown hair sticking out the back in a mullet. He’s standing inside a jewelry store and holding up a fist of expensive gems and pearls-on-strings as holds up his smartphone and speaks into it. He’s facing off against Squirrel Girl, with her allies Koi Boi and Chipmunk Hunk on her right, and Nancy and Brain Drain on the left. The following scene ensues: EpicCrimez: “And for those of you just tuning in, welcome to another successful heist by your boy EpicCrimez, streaming live! Now with 10% more live crime action than any other streamer! Don’t forget to like and subscribe!! I know some of you in EpicCrimez Nation have been forgetting to do that lately. Not acceptable.” Squirrel Girl: “You picked the wrong small business to rob, crime-initiator! Because this mall is protected by super heroes.” Brain Drain: “HELLO” SG: “And also an unrelated civilian friend I brought along too!” Nancy: (Not looking up from her phone) “ ‘Sup.” EC: “Check it out--Squirrel Girl and her miscellaneous friends are here! It’s action you won’t find on any other channel!” SG: “Are you...streaming your robberies?” (Nancy pockets her phone) EC: “Yeah I am! For money reasons! And with you “heroes” in it, I’ll make even more!” SG: (Whispering to Nancy:) “Question: a fight scene just gets him more traffic, which lets him profit from this crime even more--so does this mean we don’t fight him?” N: (Whispering back:) “I feel like letting him go causes more harm, but I look forward to us teasing apart the moral implications of this later.” SG: “Nice.” SG: (No longer whispering:) “I’ll like and subscribe, EpicCrimez! I’ll like fighting crime, and subscribe... to a worldview wherein the strong protect the weak!” EC: “Oh my gosh, are you like wholesome Spider-Man or something??” At the bottom of the page, small text says: “Wholesome Spider-Man, Wholesome Spider-Man/Does whatever a wholesome spider can/Is he tough?/Listen bud/He’s here to hear you talk about your day and tell you it’ll all be fine while taking you out for your favorite meal for dinner because he knows you deserve it.”] Image 9: [ID: Another full comic page. Doreen and Nancy are in their apartment together, and their friends Tomas and Brian (AKA Chipmunk Hunk and Brain Drain respectively) are frozen as they look down at the machine that Nancy is on her knees in front of, working on. Nancy, barefoot, is wearing cerulean-blue athletic pants, a black long-sleeve spandex shirt without shoulders, and narrow-framed glasses. Her hair is partially covered by a yellow cloth head wrap tied on the left side, with black dreadlocks spilling out the side and back. The machine in front of her is made of dull grey metal, about a meter tall and roughly circular. Wires dangle out of a hatch that Nancy is fiddling with. Doreen is wearing a flowing, dark-purple pantsuit with wide, ankle-length legs and a halter top with the sleeves tied off at her shoulders. Her shoes are light-brown ankle boots with a horizontal gap on the bridge of each foot. Her wavy orange hair is parted in the middle and down past her shoulders. She looks incredibly cute. The following scene ensues: Doreen: “What do you think?” Nancy: “I think--come on you stupid screw--I think we’re still years away from this thing working, if it ever does. Who knew time machine construction is really hard, except of course for everyone who has attempted it?” (She wipes her forehead with the back of her hand) D: “Hah! No, I mean my new outfit.” N: (Looking up and checking her gf out:) “Doreen! You look amazing!!” D: “Liberated it from a very expensive department store uptown!” N: (Now standing) “Tony paid for it?” D: Tony will eventually discover he was kind enough to leave some expensive jewelry in trade, yes. I pinned a note to him so he knows.” N: “There really are advantages to being friends with billionaire playboy genius philanthropists.” D: “Right?!” N: (Taking Doreen’s hands in hers:) “It’s a shame we can’t take a picture of you all dolled up.” D: “Not without standing still for a few months, yeah. But I was thinking about that. I picked up something else at another store downtown. Thought maybe it could help us with that.” (Holding up a shopping bag with one hand while still holding onto Nancy’s hand with the other:) “Nancy Whitehead, I thought you and I might take up painting sometime.” At the bottom of the page, small text says: “Tony Stark moves from meeting to meeting, his body accumulating dozens of notes every second. He sighs. Stuff like this didn’t happen before he knew Doreen. But then he smiles, because after all...stuff like this didn’t happen before he knew Doreen.”] Images 10-16: [ID: Several pages worth of comic frames, posted together to depict one scene. Doreen and Nancy are now old women, likely in their seventies or eighties. Doreen has short, grey hair. She’s wearing a tan button-up waistcoat and an orange ascot, brown flats with an olive-green skirt, knee-length and softly pleated. Her tail is sticking out the back of her skirt over the top, bushy and brown but with stiffer, less-dense hair. Nancy has her grey-black hair done up in a ponytail, a mass of tight curls behind her head. She’s wearing thin oval glasses, black dress pants, black flats, and a lavender cardigan with a flower motif along the edges, open to show the yellow-orange top underneath. They’re standing in front of a completed time machine. On either side are tall pieces of machinery, and in the middle is a round, flat metal dais hooked up to everything else with snaking cables. The following scene ensues: Nancy: “So...this is it, babe. The new machine.” Doreen: “Your secret project! Nancy, it looks like you started from scratch!” N: That’s because I did. I finally realized our old machine was never going to work. Maybe if we had a few more decades, but...there’s no time. And given that our backs are to the wall, I took a risk. I disassembled the gun right down to the metal, and examined all the parts. And I did find something: a data chip. Doreen, the gun stored our bio signatures when it us.” D: “What are you saying?” N: “I’m saying my new machine won’t send us back in time, and we’ll still have lost a weekend of real time. But it will restore our bodies to normal time.” D: (Hugging Nancy tight:) “Nancy! You saved us!!” N: (Resting her hands on Doreen’s shoulders:) “Not--quite. There’s a catch, Doreen. Our bodies will make it...but we won’t. Look, Doreen...I’m an old woman. I’ve spent most of my life in hypertime. This wasn’t how I saw my life going, but...I don’t regret any of it. I don’t want to lose it, and I don’t want to lose us.” D: “I don’t understand.” N: “It’s like restoring from backup. Our bodies will be restored to how they were the moment we were first hit. But--that necessarily includes our brains, too. Everything we’ve done since we entered hypertime--our entire lives spent together...we’ll forget.” (She looks at Doreen in distress) D: “I don’t either, Nancy. You’ve been the most important person in my life. But if we do go back--we can do it again. All of it. It might not happen again quite the same way, but--well, like you say...we’ll have all the time in the world.” N: (Their faces inches apart, they both tilt their heads down and smile sadly:) “Twist my arm, why don’t you.” (They both step onto the dais holding hands, and blue energy starts to ripple around them:) “You filled up Spidey’s web-shooters before we go?” D: “Yep. Again.” N: “You and me, saving the world.” D: “Well,” (holding Nancy’s hand in both of her own) "No reason we can’t do it twice.” N: “You know, there’s a chance things could turn out differently, now that we’ll have video games to distract us. In 40 years we might decide we don’t like hanging out after all.” D: (Hugging Nancy even tighter than before as the energy from the time machine starts to envelop them, resting her face in the nape of Nancy’s neck:) “Nah. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”] Image 17: [ID: Doreen and Nancy are sifting through the charred rubble of their apartment as night starts to fall around them. Doreen is wearing faded blue jeans and a navy blue t-shirt with a Captain America star in the middle. Over top of the shirt, she’s wearing a dark reddish-brown leather vest with four metal studs at the four points of the folded-out collar. Nancy is wearing black tights and a light green long-sleeve shirt with olive-green sleeves. The front of the shirt has a picture of Cat-Thor, Cat God of Cat Thunder’s head on it. The following scene ensues: Doreen: “So I know we’re only a few hours into it, Nancy, but I think my identity being public isn’t gonna be as bad as I thought.” Nancy: “Oh?” D: “Yeah, Tony’s given me lots of tips, and it does honestly help to know that my parents are protected by a robot tree with laser eyes and my friends live in a city with the most super heroes per square mile.” N: “Most super villains too, but--Hold on. I think I found it.” (Nancy lifts a picture frame out of the wreckage, charred around the edges but otherwise no worse for wear. It has a painting inside of it of Doreen and Nancy, arm-in-arm, from hypertime. Doreen is wearing the lavender pantsuit from before, and Nancy is wearing a tight-fitting lilac dress.) “...And it looks like you and I made it through just fine.”] Images 18-19: [ID: Two later comic panels from the same scene. They’re wearing the same outfits, but Nancy’s now cradling her white cat, Mew, in the crook of her left arm while she holds onto the picture frame with her right hand. The following scene ensues: Doreen: “Come on, let’s talk about it! If we’re starting a new chapter in our lives, and we can decide what’s in it, what do you want it to contain?” Nancy: “Doreen...” D: “What are the three things you can’t live without, Nancy Whitehead?” N: (Holding up the picture so that Doreen can see it:) “Fine. If you must know, all this girl needs to be happy are cats and squirrels and knitting and computers and friends and secret tattoos and super heroes and lots and lots of love. Also food and shelter. And water. And internet.” D: “That’s more than three things.”] Image 20: [ID: Same scene as before, a single frame with a close-up on Doreen from her chest upwards. Doreen cups her chin with one of her hands and says, “Honestly--I thought about it. I really did. But I realized that where I am now, I’m safe and I’m loved and I kinda like the idea of not having to lie to people anymore, you know? Even if it is just a lie of omission. I want to share my whole self with the world. I don’t want to have to hide who I am anymore.”] Image 21: [ID: Something resembling a twitter thread, with dialogue between Nancy and Doreen stacked chronologically as horizontal boxes. Their respective names and handles are at the top of each of their comments. Nancy is Nancy W. and @sewwiththeflo, Doreen is Squirrel Girl and @unbeatablesg. The following conversation ensues: Nancy: “You think I’d leave you high and dry??” Doreen: “I think I don’t want our lateness harming your grades and therefore harming your post-secondary education or career choices and therefore harming your ENTIRE LIFE?!” “So yeah I think you should switch to someone else, real talk. I honestly don’t mind, I promise.” Nancy: “Please. If there’s one thing I know about you, about me, and about how we spend our future together, it’s this. Doreen Green...” “...you’re not getting rid of me that easily. <3″] Image 22: [ID: A paragraph of text, black text on a yellow background. “As for more Doreen and Nancy, I hope so too. A Squirrel Girl book without Nancy would feel like--like--like some sort of hypothetical “Super” “Man” book without an equally hypothetical “Lois” “Lane”!”] Image 23: [ID: A group picture of Squirrel Girl and friends sitting down on a grassy hill and watching the sunset together. Kraven the Hunter is in the foreground for some reason, looking almost directly at the camera. In the background we see Koi Boi, Mary Mahajan, Chipmunk Hunk, Brain Drain, and Mew the Cat. In the middle of the shot, Doreen and Nancy sit together. Doreen is in her superhero outfit with Tippy-Toe on her right shoulder, and Nancy is in a yellow cardigan and jeans on Doreen’s left. They’re holding hands, fingers intertwined, as Nancy leans against Doreen with her whole body. Their heads are tilted inward towards each other, the side of Doreen’s head touching the side of Nancy’s, as they look off into the distance together.]

#the unbeatable squirrel girl #squirrel girl x nancy #squancy #squirrel girl #nancy whitehead #queer comics #WLW comics #long post #described #squirrel girl spoilers #thaumaturgethoughts

326 notes · View notes

ghost-in-the-hella · 4 years ago

Note

66 PriceMarsh for the kiss prompt, because I'm predictable AF.

This has been possibly the tensest, most nerve-wracking, absolute best night of Kate’s life.

After months of this awkward dance, this “are we just friends or are we dating” thing that she and Chloe have been doing basically since they met, they’re finally on an actual, definite, undeniable date.

Chloe has been sweetly formal about the whole thing, which doesn’t fit at all with the image she projects of herself to the world but fits perfectly with the image of her that Kate has come to know through the course of their friendship. Three days ago, Chloe called her - not a text; an actual phone call - to ask her out. She’d even stuttered a bit, which was beyond adorable. And she’d made it perfectly clear what she was asking: “Would you want to go out with me? Like, on a date. A real date. A date date.” It was charming. It was cute. It was exactly what Kate had been wanting to ask her since they met. Of course she said yes.

Chloe came to pick Kate up at her dorm exactly on time (the first time since Kate’s known her that Chloe’s been on time for anything), looking as nervous as Kate’s been feeling all day. She was dressed up nicely in clean slacks and a button-down shirt and wearing cologne, a rich and spicy scent that suits her well. She brought flowers for Kate and carrot tops for Alice. And she’s been just as perfect since they left the dorms, doing all the things that Kate’s ever imagined a good date’s supposed to do: letting Kate choose the music they listen to in the truck, complimenting Kate on everything from her new cardigan to the plait she did her hair in, lending Kate her thrift store suit jacket when she shivers because the truck’s heater is busted, taking her out for dinner and movie and a walk on the beach and making her feel like a fairytale princess every step of the way (minus the fire-breathing dragon; Chloe’s been chewing her nicotine gum off and on all night but hasn’t lit up a single cigarette).

It’s Kate’s first date ever, and it’s going better than she ever would have imagined a date could go.

There’s just one thing. And it’s such a little thing. It’s silly, really. Completely insignificant and borderline ridiculous. It shouldn’t matter. They’re having such a nice time, and Chloe is being so sweet, and it’s all so perfect and Kate should be able to just enjoy it without wanting anything to be different. It’s just…

Good Lord, Kate wants a kiss.

And Chloe… Chloe’s being so well-behaved. Too well-behaved, really. Kate’s pretty sure that Chloe wants to kiss her, too - every now and then Kate spots Chloe glancing down at her lips wistfully, getting nervous and looking away when she realizes she’s been caught - but Chloe’s keeping herself in check.

Kate sort of wishes Chloe wasn’t. She’s always admired - envied, really - Chloe’s bravery, the way she goes for what she wants in life and is unapologetically herself. And normally she’s grateful for the way Chloe restrains herself a bit with her, always mindful of Kate’s boundaries. But tonight… Kate’s terrible at going for what she wants, and if Chloe’s not going to go for a kiss then that means she’s going to have to be the one to make a move.

It doesn’t happen.

All through dinner (at the Two Whales, but in their fancy clothes; there really is nowhere nice to go around here, not that they can afford, anyway), no kiss. During the movie there are a few awkward attempts at hand-holding and arm draping, but it all goes awry (Chloe even does the classic yawn-and-stretch routine that always seems to work in movies, but she seems to chicken out at the last second, leaving Kate disappointed), and no kiss. They go for a romantic walk on the beach and by the time they’re walking back to the parking lot Chloe finally works up the nerve to hold Kate’s hand, seeming justly proud of herself, but still no kiss. Chloe drives her back to campus, and definitely no kiss. Chloe walks her to the entrance of the dorm building (Kate takes her hand when Chloe seems uncertain if it’s allowed; she’s not going to let them go backwards at this point), and no kiss. After some shy hemming and hawing and increasingly sweaty hand-holding, Kate persuades her to come inside and actually walk her to her door, and time is running out.

The hallway is quiet. It’s still early for a Friday night; most people are probably out partying. She could invite Chloe in for tea, but even though she knows they wouldn’t do anything improper it still feels a bit too forward to ask. So they stand outside Kate’s still-locked door and make small talk, stretching out the waning moments of their first official date.

“This was awesome,” Chloe says for the third time. She’s staring at Kate’s lips again. She blinks and her beautiful sky blue eyes dart away sheepishly when she notices Kate staring back.

“Yeah,” Kate agrees again. She’s just staring openly, hoping that Chloe will suddenly learn to read her mind or at least her body language.

“Cool, cool. Glad you had a good time.” Chloe licks her lips anxiously. The lip gloss she’d clearly applied at the beginning of the night is practically worn away. Her lips look no less kissable for it.

“I definitely did. The movie was… fun.”

Chloe chuckles shyly. “I, uh, did not expect for there to be so much blood. Sorry about that.”

“It was fine. I’m really not that squeamish.” Chloe’s lips are perfect. Kate wonders what they taste like. Maybe if she stares at them hard enough she’ll find out.

“Oh, word.” Chloe cringes. “Uh, I mean. Cool. Maybe we can watch a movie together again sometime?”

Kate beams, and Chloe’s eyes stray down to her smiling lips again, lingering this time. “I’d love that.”

“Yeah? I mean, yeah. That’d be…”

“Cool?” Kate supplies, smirking a little.

Chloe blushes, and Good Lord Kate can not handle that. “Um. Yeah.” Her eyes are still on Kate’s mouth. Kate wishes her lips were instead. “So, like… Second date?”

“Yes, please. This weekend?”

“Heck yeah. You can pick out the movie this time.”

“I’d be happy to. But I thought you picked fine.”

“Really? I was freaking out the whole time that you’d hate it. I mean, I know you’re not a square or whatever, but still. I don’t wanna scare you off by having weird taste in movies.”

“It’d take more than that to scare me off, Chloe.”

“Y-yeah?”

“In fact…” Kate summons up her courage. “I’ve been worried about scaring you off tonight, too.”

Chloe blinks in surprise, looking away from Kate’s mouth for the first time in whole minutes. “What, really? Why’s that?”

Kate steps close and Chloe’s eyes dart back down to her lips even as they widen in surprise. “Because this,” Kate says, and she moves her mouth close enough to Chloe’s that she’ll have to stop staring and do something about it. She pauses before making contact, close enough for the request to be clear but far enough away that Chloe can back out if she really wants to.

To Kate’s immense relief and eternal gratitude, Chloe leans down slightly and closes the gap herself.

Chloe’s lips taste like her cigarettes smell, but with traces of mint, buttered movie popcorn, and the faintest hint of strawberry lip gloss.

“Oh,” Chloe breathes when they pull back enough to breathe again. “C-cool.”

Kate giggles and kisses her again.

#prompt fic #prompt fill #prompt ghost #ghost writes #fanfic #life is strange #LiS #pricemarsh #chloe price #kate marsh #writing prompts #better late than never #rainboq

26 notes · View notes

sugar-kisser · 5 years ago

Text

Hot Coffee « Choi San (RW)

original warnings: none word count: 3359

You look up from the ground in front of you and smile as you notice the little black corner shop quickly coming into your view with every step you take. Your hand grabs the metal door handle, the palm of you hand instantly freezing due to the lowering temperatures of the fast approaching winter. You’re just waiting for the snow fall to come, so you can enjoy the pretty white scene of what the city becomes, especially overnight.

A small little bell chimes as you open the door and enter, causing a pool of black hair with a strong silver streak to pop up, stoping his spot in the book he’s so engrossed in. The barista brightly smiles at you, his dimples caving deep into his cheeks.

“Y/N! You’re here much earlier than usual,” he slightly giggles as he calls for you barely containing his excitement. Some times you wonder what goes on in his head or if he’s mentally five.

“My last class got canceled last minute today, again,” you lie. Well you’re not entirely lying. Your class did actually get canceled today last minute, but you’ve ditched this class two other times now and you’ve told San that the class has been canceled. Truth be told you’re trying to avoid a couple of girls who have been harassing you for the past two months, and you just need a break.

“Do you want your usual?” San asks, already grabbing one of the large black cups. You nod you head and mumble a please. San smiles your way before moving towards the coffee station and begins to make your favorite drink. It’s not even a drink you can order on the menu, but because you come here so often San would make you new drinks all the time till you decided a favorite. You discovered this place in the beginning of the school year. San worked most days since he’s enrolled in mostly online classes. You like to come to the small coffee shop to work mostly on your graphic design assignments. You tend to find inspiration in little places that you are most comfortable in. The shop has only a handful of tables, but your favorite seat is on the bar attached to San’s entire work space. Most of the walls are windowed from top to bottom with black framing. San had recently even been hanging up plants around the shop to give it another spark of life. The shop isn’t much but it’s comfortable to you, and you can freely work in the environment.

San gently slides the drink across the countertop towards you, a small little trail of steam coming from the hole in the lid. You go to reach for your wallet in your bag, but San stops you.

“You know you don’t have to pay for you drinks,” San tells you.

“San,” you whine, “that’s not fair to everyone else. You need to stop giving me drinks for free.”

“Not everyone is like you,” San winks before walking off to go wipe down the equipment he just used. You feel a little bit of heat rise to your cheeks, and you take your drink and move to the bar on the side of San’s work station. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a crush on San. He’s one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. You both were a little quiet at first but you two quickly grew comfortable with each other due to you coming everyday to the coffee shop. Your conversations grew from just “hey how are you?” to “if you’re going to put that much cinnamon power into my drink I might as well snort it.” And to add a cherry on top, you’ve developed a small, little, tiny winy….. okay maybe it’s not small- BUT you have a crush on the cute, flirty barista who is also one of your friends. For all you know you could be friend zoned, so there is a little dilemma. You don’t really plan on telling San about your feelings, you’d rather deal with them until they go away than risk what you have now- because what you have now is really nice.

You set your drink on the counter and pull yourself into one of the high standing chairs. You then pull out your tablet and pull up your newest project you’ve been working on for a past couple days.

“What are you working on now?” San walks over to his side of the station connected to the bar where you are sitting at and rests his arms on top of the coffee machines.

“We have to create logo’s,” you tell him, “they can be for real companies or just made up.” You turn your tablet to show San the three different logo designs you’ve started. Each different logo representing a different company. One of them happens to be a design for the coffee shop you’re at- the other two are for made up companies.

“Is that one for here?” San asks, lighting up even more pointing to a small floral design, “look how detailed it is. All the flowers. They’re so pretty. Especially the big one in the middle.” You look over at your design and your eyes land on the giant water lily. “Are you about to color it all in?”

“I will when I’m finished with the other two designs. Why do you have suggestions?” You asks looking back at San with a smile and a small laugh at his deep interest in your assignment.

“No, no, no,” San laughs as he stands back up straight, “just curious. I think it’s going to be pretty no matter what you do with it.” You feel the blush quickly return to your cheeks but quickly push away the butterflies.

“I hope it turns out good. Maybe you’ll be able to use it for the shop,” You tell San as you pick up your stylus and begin working on one of the other designs.

“You know I’d love to,” San winks at you, “I’ll have to show my boss. Doubt he’ll say no, you’re talented.”

“Ah, thank you, San,” you laugh shyly, “I’m no professional. I still have a long way before I’m considered good.”

“Stop beating yourself up, Y/N,” San laughs, “you’re really talented. I hope someday you’ll see that.” You smile and look away from San, trying to cover you cheeks from another wave of pink. Why can’t you just seem to maintain your cool today? You look back at your designs and enlarge the image of one of the unfinished designs and begin working away. San begins to clean down his counter but looks over his shoulder your way. He loves the way you engross yourself into your work and the way your eyes light up when you finally get the look you’re wanting for your design. He knows you take pride in what you do and how much you love it. He just doesn’t understand why you’re so hard on yourself all the time. You never seem proud of any work you do. Yeah everyone can beat themselves up because they don’t think they did the best job they could, but you just never seem to be proud of anything you make. But little does San know the reason why you’re so hard on yourself is because of the girls that harass you. They always find a way to point out flaws to your professor when presenting or whisper about how anything you do isn’t as nice as everyone else’s, things like that. It’s created this unhealthy mental mindset in you, and you can’t seem to shake it.

You realize time has passed when San refills your cup for a third time, which means you are most definitely not sleeping tonight unless you manage to get all this energy out of you. The sun has begin to reach it’s spot on the horizon.

“Have you started coloring yet?” San asks as he fills up your cup.

“A little,” you tell him as you zoom out from the first logo, the one San really likes, “I’m just messing around with colors to see what I like.” San leans past your shoulder to get a closer look at your tablet. His face just inches away from yours looking at the design. You watch as his eyes jump around looking at the little elements and the colors you have picked out at the moment. The corner of his eyes crinkle and his little dimples pop onto his cheeks along with a smile. He begins to speak but his words don’t reach your ears. You trying to remember to breathe and to not make a fool of yourse-

“Y/N?” San asks waving his hand in front of your face. His face turned towards yours and a slight look of worry replaced his smile. You blink a couple times and focus on San who breaks out of his worry and back into a smile. “You’re so cute. I’ll be back I think I have customers. I want to see the other designs!” You nod your head and the boy hurries back to get behind the counter. You put your head down and your hands cover your mad red cheeks. Seriously what is up with you today? At this rate San will definitely figure out you like him. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths before looking back up at your tablet, and get back to work. You zoom back into your logo and begin coloring in another petal of the water lily.

“I’m going to head into the back to grab more coffee grounds. Yell if anyone walks in,” San tells you hand resting on your shoulder to grab your attention. You nod your head and watch the boy disappear into the back before turning back to your work.

“Well, well, well. Look what we found,” an all too familiar venomous voice breaks your train of thought. Your breath hitches slightly and you look up at the two girls standing in front of you.

“Is there something you need? Or no?” You ask, almost deadpan. This is the last place you want to see them, especially since it’s your one safe happy place.

“No,” she answers then looks around the shop, “figures you would come here. Must be where you get all your ridiculous ideas from. Makes sense; there is no inspiration. But…. you got a cute barista, so I’ll give you some credit.”

“Leave him alone,” you warn her with a flat tone. The last thing you need is for San to be brought into whatever beef you have with these girls.

“What’s with the attitude? We’re trying to be nice,” the other girl growls.

“Nice? You’re joking, right?” You ask, “you come in here, insult a place I like to be at, and my designs in one sentence.”

“You need to learn to keep your mouth shut,” the first girl tells you, voice low and threatening. You can feel your heart beat against your shirt. You know you can’t give up, not this time. You take in a deep slow breath to clam your nerves and the two girls stand there watching you, unsure of what you are going to do or say.

“Apologize,” the first girl demands.

“No,” you immediately answer her.

“No?” She asks almost taken aback with your sudden boldness she or her friend have never seen before. You go to open your mouth again to repeat yourself but your stopped when you feel a burning hot splash against your skin. A sudden high pitches scream escapes your lungs in reaction. You hear something heavy hit the floor and you and the two other girls look behind you at San who’s eyes widen. At his feet most of the coffee grounds have spilt out of bags and spread across the floor. The girls instantly make their way for the exit and you pull your coffee soaked shirt away from your body, but it doesn’t stop the burning sensation that’s already on your skin.

“Y/N,” San hurries up to you and quickly looks over your shirt and parts of your blistering skin that’s already exposed.

“It burns,” you tell him, your voice wavering just above a whisper. You breathing is shaky and a couple tears fall down your cheeks.

“We’re going to get you cleaned up, come on,” San helps you off your chair and guides you into the backroom and towards the break room. He clears off a section of a desk and has you sit on it while he heads to the other side of the room and he grabs the first aid kit from a cabinet. He opens the small box and looks around at what he has to work with. He takes another look at you and see’s that the skin on your color bones and neck have been to shrivel up.

“You’re going to need to take off your shirt for me to clean up the burns,” San quietly tells you. You’re slightly hesitant but you nod your head since you 1) don’t want to argue about it 2) want to get the burning shirt off of you. As you begin to take the shirt off San turns away and heads to his locker pulling out another shirt.

“Here, you can hold this up,” San holds out the shirt without looking your direction just so you’re not uncomfortable. You take the shirt and wrap it around your chest and even take off your bra after since it’s also soaks but most of the hot liquid was absorbed in the padding and so it just felt warm and you don’t think there are any burns. You whisper you’re good and San turns to face you again. He gives you a comforting smile before pulling out antiseptic wipes from the first aid kit. You make a small hissing noise when he first touches your irritated skin and you even slightly flinch away.

“I know it’s going to hurt,” San tells you, feeling slightly guilty that he’s going to hurt you just to make sure you get better, “squeeze my hand when it really hurts.” San takes your free hand. He begins cleaning your burns once again and you sit through the stinging feeling, but when he reaches your collar bone you squeeze his hand and he stops for a moment. He gives you a minute before he begins to lightly touch your collar bone again. San then tosses out the wipe and pulls out two small packets of an antibiotic lotion and dabs it onto your skin lightly but making sure it was being rubbed into your skin well enough. The lotion feels cool to your skin and you can almost relax. You watch San as he focus’s on making sure every burn is taken care of. You almost forget you’re still holding his hand.

“All done,” San lightly smiles at you as he closes the top of the first aid kit and tosses out the antibiotic packets he used, “you can put that shirt on.” As San goes to put the kit away you quickly pull the shirt over your head and push your arms through the sleeves. San’s unmistakable cologne fills your nose and you look down at the giant sweater. The lilac sweater is already giant on San, so it easily swallows you.

You slide of the desk, and when the sound of your shoes hitting the floor reaches San’s ears he knows it’s safe to turn around. He smiles sweetly seeing you in his sweater, you look like a little puppy in it.

“Had I known you looked this cute in my clothes I would of let you wear them sooner,” San teases as he walks back up to you, His head pushed further out from his body as he leans forward, and his hands are behind his back. When he reaches you, though, he stands up straight and his smile drops as he looks at you. He raises his hand and gently trucks some hair behind your ear.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” San asks, he feels like he’s been stabbed and it’s evident in his voice.

“San,” you start as you look down at your hands, which you pick at your fingers, “you shouldn’t have to worry about me.”

“Hey,” San states as he gently grabs your face and lifts it up to face him, “I will always worry about you.” Your heart immediately flutters just at the simple idea that San wonders about you even when you’re not with him. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before San moves his hand to the side of your face and begins to lean towards you. You close your eyes and feel his lips meet yours for a moment before he pulls away.

“How lon-“

“I’ve liked you for a while. I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on it,” San slightly giggles, “ever since you did that little doodle of me.” You think back a couple months ago when you had come to the coffee shop with no assignments to do so you sat and doodles San as he worked through his shift.

“I didn’t know you saw that drawing,” you whisper looking away and awkward scratching the side of your head. San laughs and wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. You can feel his chest vibrating from the laugh.

“Come on,” San pulls away as he stops laughing, “I’ll walk you back to your apartment. I can close the shop for today once I clean up the coffee I dropped.”

“You don’t have you,” you quickly tell him, shaking your hands out in front of him, “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“A bother? Y/N,” San lightly laughs and grabs your hands, “you could never be a bother. Why can’t you see that? You mean a lot to me, and I don’t want anything to happen to you. Not anymore. So, please, let me walk you home.”

“Okay,” you whisper and nod your head. San smiles with your response and the two of you head back out into the coffee shop. Most customers had already left and San gave a heads up to those who remained. He flipped the open sign and grabs a broom and begins to sweep up all the coffee grounds on the floor. You sit patiently in one of the other bar chairs with your things all packed up.

Once San had finished, he grabs his bag, and stops you from putting yours on your shoulders. Something along the lines of him not wanting you to irritate the burns any further or getting them infected. You let San take your bag knowing he’ll whine if you don’t and the two of you make your way to your apartment. You invite San inside and he’s surprised with the style of your apartment and how you chose to decorate it. It’s not the last thing he thought it would be, but it definitely wasn’t his first. None-the-less San’s more than impressed with your style and even suggests you be an interior designer. The two of you enjoy the rest of the day watching tv and even cook a simple dinner together. Half-way through one of the movies you guys decided to turn on you fall asleep, your head resting against San’s chest as he has one arm wrapped around you. He only notices you fell asleep when he hears your light snores. He smiles and pulls you a little closer and makes sure the blanket you have is completely on you. San also takes the time to grab your tablet from the coffee table and begins an email to your design professors letting them know about what had happen today. He doesn’t specifically know which class you have with those two girls but he’s just playing safe and contacting all the professors anyway. He isn’t going to let anything or one else hurt you.

#ateez #ateez au #ateez choi san #ateez san #choi san #san #atiny #ateez x reader #ateez x atiny #ateez fluff #college au #coffee shop au #barista au #kpop imagines #ateez imagines #ateez drabbles #ateez scenarios

226 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #348

“nothing will be free / nothing will be done / black out the sun”

Do you have any famous relatives? My third or so cousin is the author of Not Without My Daughter, but she's not like a smash hit or anything that most people know. I really do recommend the book, though. It's a long read, but a beautiful, true story. Do you care about celebrity gossip? Nah. Have you ever failed a science course in high school? No; I was very good at science. What’s your favorite breakfast food? Cinnamon rolls. Does your house have a basement? No. No house I've ever lived in has had one. Do you like Hot Topic? Well duh. Do you think imagination is valuable? VERY! Just imagine how many incredible things wouldn't exist without it. What was your reaction to your first time falling in love? Unspeakably happy, and I felt like I was building a future with someone. I felt like I had purpose, which I should mention to anyone reading is a mindset to NEVER adopt. No one gives you purpose; you're born with it. How much weight can you lift at once? Ha, not a lot. When you have your own house someday, what color Christmas tree do you want and how will you decorate it? I want a black one with faux snow on the branches, then maybe red ornaments. Kinda look like blood dripping off. Sounds metal. Name three YouTube channels you’ve been loving lately. Lately, John Wolfe, The Dark Den, and Aim To Head Mix. Have you ever bought a designer purse? No. Do you wear jewelry often? No. What color was your senior prom dress? Black. Are you colorblind? No. Name the people you know who are colorblind. Jason's older brother is colorblind to two colors, but idr which. Would you ever consider a career in writing? I'd love to. What was your first favorite color? Red. What do you think about horror movies? I love them. If you love them, what’s your favorite? I really enjoy The Crazies and both The Blair Witch Project movies. Oh, and of course Silent Hill. Got any cool Christmas presents picked out for family or friends yet? I don't have the money to get anyone presents... and while I sometimes get ideas about something I could make someone, then it wouldn't be fair to the rest of my family if I don't make them something, too. What’s your favorite word and why? I really like the sound of "serendipity," as well as its meaning. It's just a pretty, nice word. Do you like to do craft projects? If so, what’s the coolest thing you made? Not really... I think the coolest thing I made was when I put the clay heart I made in Art into a shadowbox, and a poem I wrote was in the background. It was a gift for Jason. I remember working really hard on the whole process and being really happy with it. I don't want to know what he's done with it since. What’s one occupation you think gets paid too much and doesn’t deserve to? I don't know. What’s something you are currently saving money for to buy? Everyone knows about Venus' terrarium by now... Do you smoke/vape? If so, what brand do you smoke/what device do you use? No. Ever done drugs? No. Tell me one of your worst habits. Catastrophizing. I take a tiny seed of something potentially bad, and in seconds it's a damn redwood tree. And I do mean "in seconds." What’s a weird quirk you have that no one else you know does? I don't know, I don't have any particularly unique ones, I think. If you game, what type of headset do you use? I just use earbuds. Do you think you would be a good therapist? You know, it's funny, I've actually pictured myself as one a few times, given my level of understanding and empathy for people, as well as how deeply I want to see others succeed and spread the word that recovery from things like depression is very possible. I've never truly entertained the thought, though, given I'm quite sure I legally couldn't be given my suicidal past and mental illnesses. There is also NO way I could listen to so many people's suffering and manage to stay healthy myself, so, no therapist position for me, thanks. Have you ever been to a Chinatown? No. Do you prefer chunky or creamy peanut butter? Creamy, 100%. Do you stop to pick up heads-up pennies? No. Do your pets have collars? Describe them: Roman has an adorable navy one with a bowtie. Do you have any friends that speak any languages you don’t understand? Old friends, sure. What is something you want to begin learning? I want to improve my ability to perform what in therapy is called "opposite action," where you do the opposite of what your depression (or other conditions) make you want to do. It always helps me feel good, like when I draw even when I don't initially feel like it, but it's rough to really force yourself to do it. What is a food you find comforting when you are sad? Ice cream is my comfort food. What is a quote you find comfort in? There are really a lot, but none come to mind immediately, gah. What is one Tumblr blog you really appreciate? I actually haven't been on my main Tumblr in months, but oh my god there is a Markiplier blog called "lady-raziel" and she is FUCKING HYSTERICAL. The meme quality is A+. What is a comfort movie/show for you? When I actually liked watching movies, I enjoyed watching Silent Hill when I was down. That whole franchise just makes me so happy. What is a recent creative project that you are proud of? That I'm PROUD of, idk. I'm not that happy with the last drawing I made, and I haven't done any serious writing lately that I find noteworthy. What is a video game that you find comforting? Shadow of the Colossus is probably #1. I find it so relaxing while equally epic as fuck. The soundtrack is to die for, and after playing it a billion times, it's pretty easy for me to kinda breeze through and just enjoy myself. Do you know how to bake bread? If so, what is something you’ve baked recently? No. Would you rather live in the mountains, city, beach, or the forest? THE MOUNTAINS!!! Particularly in the woods IN the mountains! Are you closer to your mother’s or father’s side of the family? Mom's. I don't even remember anyone from Dad's. Have you ever been in a “perfect relationship”? I thought so. Have you ever lost a fingernail or toenail? No. Were you a Disney or Nickelodeon kid? I preferred Disney. Have you ever been inside a jail/prison? No, and I don't plan on it. Have you ever dated a guy with a beard, mustache, or goatee? Jason had a goatee usually. He'd go clean-shaven sometimes. Did you ever name your stuffed animals? I named every single one I got as a kid. Now I don't, really, unless they're really special. What’s the name of the person who cuts your hair? I'd rather not share, given her name is very unique. Do you like cheeseburgers? Yes, they're one of my favorite foods. Do you have a Flickr? Yes, but I don't use it anymore. Did you ever want to be a fashion designer? No. Do you drink milk? Yeah, I love milk. Where was your FB display pic taken? My room. Have you ever burnt your tongue like REALLY bad? If so, what on? Yeah; white rice. My dumb ass didn't realize it had JUST come off the stove. My tongue hurt literally for weeks. Have you ever gotten your legs waxed? No. Do you own any CLOTHES from Victoria’s Secret? Er, are undergarments not clothes? But I know what you mean. No. What are your grandfathers’ names? William and... I can't remember Dad's dad's name. Have you ever seen a snake in real life? Well yeah. Are you against seances? I don't know if I believe in them being effective, but either way, they seem like a bad idea. Even risking luring a negative energy/spirit to you is something I'd stay away from. Do you own any superhero shirts? No, just Harley Quinn ones, some with the Joker on them, too. I need to toss 'em though because I am like, violently against romanticizing their abusive relationship. I used to just like them as a story character couple, but I got to a place where it just seemed... wrong to "glorify" it by wearing merch and stuff. What band has the best guitar solos? Metallica, durrrr. Who is the biggest jerk you’ve ever met? Can you believe that would be my former best friend? Have you ever swerved off the road to avoid hitting an animal? I've never had an animal in my path. Have you ever grown your own herbs? No. Do you like kissing in public? If you're my serious s/o, I could care less, so long as it's a simple peck. I'm not making out in front of people. Do you think someone has feelings for you? I don't know. Do you want to be in a relationship this year? I don't know. I'm lonely and love feels amazing, but I need to get my life on track before I can be a good partner to someone and not just dead weight. Has anyone told you they don’t want to ever lose you? Huh, funny, he's the one that walked away. How long can you just kiss until your hands start to wander? Uhhh that would depend on how serious we are, where we are, and just what mood I'm in. What’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for you? ugh What’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for someone? also ugh What’s your dirtiest secret? TMI AHEAD. Probably receiving oral while bare-ass naked on the chaise in the living room while we were home alone. Or having sex in my sister’s bed. Oops. Would you ever get lyrics tattooed on yourself? Yeah. I already do, anyway, and I plan on getting another. Can you photoshop images well? I'm decent at it. Where did you last drive to? Mom and I went to go get our Covid vaccines today. What’s the first verse of the last song you listened to? "I don't know what we're supposed to be, but I know we lost it along the way to something better, something so much more than pleasure that we seek, so blind inside to fill these holes left by these lies that we tell to ourselves as we manufacture our own hell." What do you hear right now? The aforementioned song: "BLACKOUT" by 3TEETH. What was the last thing you laughed about? This is so fucking immature lmao but when we were driving earlier, we passed a gas station that had a sign that was advertising Coke, but due to space limitations, it abbreviated to "2 liter Cok" and I cackled like a child. Mom laughed harder than I did. Do you know any gay people personally? Ye. What was the last thing that startled you? I think it was a car hoonking at somebody the other day. What was the last thing to make you even remotely sad? Today's been a kind of rough PTSD day thanks to Facebook. My old high school friend had her beautiful daughter, a childhood friend just got married the other day, another friend is due to have her baby in just a couple weeks... It's just weird but even more painful to know it was the life I once fantasized about with a guy that just dropped me and made a break for it. I hate admitting that there's this deep, deep bitterness in me about it, like he took my life away from me, even though that's of course very unfair to say. I don't want to talk about this anymore, so moving on with my day.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''blackout'' by 3teeth

5 notes · View notes

iamnotawomanimagod · 5 years ago

Text

Manic Review - From “Least-Best” to Best

Halsey released her third studio album on 1/17/2020, and it is easily her best. I’ve wanted to talk about it, but first, I need to figure out how I feel about each track in relation to the others. So this is mostly for me, but I’d love to hear how other people are feeling too!

I love all of these songs, I feel so blessed with this album, which is why this goes from “least-best” to “best”, not “worst.”

(I know that’s kind of splitting semantic hairs, but I refuse to disrespect this album, lmao.)

So, without further ado, here are my favorite songs on Manic, starting with the one I like the least:

16 - “Alanis’s Interlude”

This is THE bisexual anthem we’ve all been waiting for from Halsey. It’s cool, sexy, and features some stellar vocals from both Alanis and Halsey. It ranks so low for me only because I’m not a huge fan of the chorus, the machine drums, or the melody, despite loving the message. But the verses are fire, and so are the vocals.

15 - “Still Learning”

I think this track will be a slow-grower for me, the way “Devil in Me” was. Maybe it’s just because it comes on the heels of the deeply, deeply impactful “More” - but I found this didn’t strike the chord I thought it would. It’s a beautiful song, though, and very meaningful to Halsey’s personal journey. I think seeing it live might change my mind about it.

14 - “Finally // beautiful stranger”

This might be the sweetest side of Halsey that we’ve ever seen, especially when it comes to romantic love. The fact that it was inspired by Yungblud makes my heart ache a bit. I really love the duality of the different versions of Ashley in the video. That being said, the genre/style of song isn’t my personal favorite. Her vocals are amazing, though, and some of the lyrics are really poetic. I know this will be an especially tender one live, in front of a Halsey crowd. I can just picture everyone swaying and singing along.

13 - “SUGA’s Interlude”

This interlude is such a soft, sad moment on the album, and it fits really well before “More.” SUGA’s Interlude is all about the way fame has changed both artists, and about how they’ll know when it’s time to step away from the spotlight - and how that might change them. SUGA has excellent flow, and Halsey’s delicate, pining vocals on the chorus is a perfect complement to his introspective rapping. It’s a really sweet song, and part of why it works so well on the album is because it creates such a heartfelt prelude to “More”. The song all about leaving fame behind, followed by the song about loving her unborn child, and how she badly wants to be a mother...gives me chills, man, literal chills. I think I’d like it more if I spoke Korean, but honestly, Korean Halsey fans deserve somethin’ special, so I’m okay with it.

12 - “You should be sad”

I still don’t know if I quite “buy” Y’allsey, but I can’t deny that this is a really fun song. Singing along to the lyrics is so satisfying, and the music video provided us with some serious Looks. The guitar riff between the chorus and the verses makes me feel things, and so does the line: “I’m so glad I never ever had a baby with you,” especially after hearing “More”. I like this song a lot, but compared to the rest of the album, it’s not in my top ten. I think it’ll be a really, really fun one live, though.

11 - “Without Me”

This song and I share a birthday! It’s also where Manic really began, although we had no idea that was the case, at the time. This was the first time Halsey wrote from such a specific and personal place, knowing we would all immediately recognize who the song targeted and why. She’s used this song brilliantly since then, coming up with a dozen different interpretations and set pieces, performing it while chained to a post, while revealing the messages of her cheating ex, while dancing with a beautiful girl, and even more. (It helps a lot that she performed this song with Jade Chynoweth, one of my all-time favorite dancers, and responded to the backlash of that performance by doing it again, but even gayer, just a few weeks later.) We owe a lot to this song. And, as it turns out, it really fits in with the story of Manic, and with the tone, from both a sonic and thematic perspective. I’m still a little tired of it, though, which is why it ranks so low. But - credit where it’s due!

10 - “Dominic’s Interlude”

This one surprised me, although I went in with zero expectations, not knowing who Dominic Fike was. I wish Halsey was actually in this song, but other than that, I think it’s a great interlude. Not to mention: “If you’re looking for signs then you should know, there’s power in the words that you’re thinking.” That’s an incredible line, hit me hard.

9 - “Ashley”

I both love and hate what this song means, because it scares the crap out of me. The way she described it as “a cautious goodbye” in an interview... It’s absolutely a letter to her fans, about Halsey, about who Halsey is, and who Ashley is, and how that balancing act both breaks her and makes her thrive. She can’t keep doing this forever. She knows how much she means to us, and this song is all about how heavy and scary that burden is, but that she’s committed to it, for now. Ending with that line from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was perfect. We’re the ones who shouldn’t assign her our peace of mind, y’know? Her vocals are stunning, though, and I think it’s the strongest opener from any of her albums. This song reminds me of a much less depressing version of “Batter Up” by Brand New, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it influenced her a bit.

8 - “Graveyard”

This song really feels like the older sister of “Without Me”. I love the racing speed of the melody and the rhythm, the way everything is layered so manically and frantically over the verses. It’s actually really easy to get lost in the musicality of this one, even though the lyrics are incredible. I think the music video is my all-time favorite of Halsey’s, because I love all the symbolism in it, and it was really trippy to see her without tattoos. I’ll consider this one a bop for a long, long time.

7 - “clementine”

We’ve had this song for a little while, and it’s been one of my favorites. I was pretty sure it was going to stay that way, even after the album came out, but Halsey surprised me. That being said, I still love the way this song manages to be both playful and petulant, spirited and sad. It has some really beautiful images, and the music video is so pretty.

6 - “I HATE EVERYBODY”

We love a song full of contradictions! This song takes the humor/self-deprecation that started in “Clementine” and “Forever... (is a long time)” and turns it anthemic. The transition from “Dominic’s Interlude” to this song is so perfect, it’s hard not to listen to them one after the other. Halsey once again proves her lyrical prowess and ability to write a relatable bop, which is really what we love her for in the end, right? I love the way the song starts out pretty simply, than swells up into something epic.

5 - “3am”

I love this genre, so much, and I think Halsey completely nails it. This song wouldn’t make anyone bat an eye if you played it in 2007. Most other Halsey songs can’t claim that, and since I’m a sucker for the aughties, this one lives high on my list. It reminds me of P!nk, Avril Lavigne, and Paramore. The lyrics are super relatable, and I love the chorus and the bridge. It’s not the best lyrically, but that bridge honestly makes up for what the rest of the song lacks. Can’t wait to scream that one live! I do wish John Mayer wasn’t rambling on the end, but I also love how that leads into “Without Me”.

4 - “929″

This might sound strange, but I love how this song starts with just Ashley talking; she’s speaking through laughter, challenging her friend playfully. This song feels so real. I love the stream-of-consciousness style of lyrics and the way the melody plays into that. Her voice reminds me so much of early, early Halsey - songs like “Tilt You Back” and “For Ruby”. I can relate so much to some of the things she says, and I love the way it ends. It’s such an interesting contrast to the way her previous albums concluded, too - “Young God” and “Hopeless” are both such epic, sweeping tracks. Ending her most personal album yet with such a tender ode to self-acceptance, and self-discovery, is such a beautiful way to show how much she’s grown, as a person, a songwriter, and a singer. This song makes me nostalgic, proud, happy, just a little sad, and feel so at peace.

3 - “More”

I almost don’t really have words for this song. Knowing Halsey’s story, her very honest and public experiences with infertility and endometriosis, made this song hit me a lot harder than I ever expected. I still can’t quite get through it without crying. It’s an incredibly beautiful song. Painfully, painfully honest, about a topic that’s so rarely openly discussed in pop culture. I don’t even want kids, but the yearning she shows, the hope she still has, the way she says that she’s loved her future child more than anything, and has always loved them; the reference to having already bought baby clothes; the sound of the sonogram machine, and the way it sounds like she’s singing to her baby from outside the womb at the end; it guts me. And again, I don’t want kids. I never expected this kind of honesty or tenderness from her. It’s such a special song, truly. (For the record, I listened to it again to write this and am fully weeping once more.)

2 - “Forever... (is a long time)”

What a surprise this song was! I think it perfectly captures a certain kind of self-destructive behavior that so many of us end up falling into when it comes to relationships. The way the song goes from happy and plucky to this burgeoning feeling of dread, of spiraling down into those dark thoughts that trip all of us up from time to time. It goes from a love song to a break-up song in a matter of seconds, and the transition is spine-tinglingly perfect. The storm building in the background, starting with thunder and dissipating into rain. The way her voice comes back in with the same melody, but minor instead of major. The way the song sort of disintegrates into chaos, and into the realization: “talk to your man...tell him he’s got bad news comin’.” (This is definitely about the Yungblud breakup, right? Nevermind, my heart can’t take that. Gonna pretend I didn’t just realize that.)

1 - “killing boys”

Jennifer’s Body is one of my absolute favorite movies, unironically. I love that Halsey loves it too, enough to include lines from it in the most badass boss bitch song she’s written since “Nightmare”. Her vocals are incredible (those high notes!) - the lyrics are the perfect blend of regretful and rageful - the beat, melodies, and overall composition just fills me up with this impossibly strong sense of “fuck yeah, fuck you.” I don’t have the words to describe how this song makes me feel. I had high hopes, based on the title, and it did not disappoint. This song has some of the cleverest lines on the entire record, and it makes me feel a way that no other song does. That’s what seals it at #1, for me (for now.)

Feel free to reply with yours, or tag me in your own review!! I’m really excited to see some of the more detailed opinions people have, now that the initial “IT’S HERE” hype has started to subside.

stream MANIC by HALSEY today

#manic #manic review #manic era #halsey #ashley frangipane #stephspeaks #ok to reblog #changed some formatting

235 notes · View notes

butterbeeryuta · 4 years ago

Text

chapter 2: shit colour schemes, bugs, and vegetables

This place looked nothing like hell. The moment we landed, we were placed in one luxurious apartment with a private pool and shit. How is this hell?

Purple-horn lady cleared her throat as she clasped her hands together. ‘Welcome to Hell 127. As you can see, you have a rather gorgeous apartment here, and is probably a very different image of what you thought hell was meant to look like. But that is only because humans are stupid. Keep yourselves warm and welcome, and ya’ll can call me later if you need any help, yeah?’. We all nodded at her, wanting her to leave as soon as possible. If it was not obvious enough, we wanted to have a magical vacation here in Hell 127. Imagine all the films I can watch forever, or even maybe paint forever— this is just simply amazing and irreplaceable. What she said made sense though. Maybe we are dumb because of what we perceive hell to be. From an early age, we learn that hell is a place for ‘bad people’ regardless of what your religion was. Of course, there was no possible way for living individuals to know how hell actually looks like, but damn are we brainwashed. In a matter of a second, the purple woman disappeared, and it was just us 13 embarrassed breathing-yet-not-breathing corpses.

‘Is it only me, or I really want to jump in that pool’ the girl with midnight blue hair asked. We all looked at her direction, not expecting the sudden voice to speak out. My eyes followed where she was looking, and I must say, the pool looked inviting. The clear water had pink and purple led lights shining on the edges; it was a whole disco party in a form of a pool. I love hell.

‘Didn’t you die from jumping in a pool and drowning for your Instagram feed?’ A rather deep female voice questioned.

BITCH YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THAT I—

The boy with caramel hair snorted at the girl’s comment, whereas Mark’s laugh filled all of our ears. I had this sudden urge to comfort the attacked girl, but I also wanted to high-five the other person for such bravery? Huh… no wonder I’m in hell. I’m just as mean as kpop stans on Twitter. Poor attacked pretty girl tightened her lips immediately, almost as if she was stopping herself from throwing an insult back. Or maybe she was just at loss of words. If it wasn’t obvious enough, I am absolutely terrible at reading people. And to think I wanted to be a psychologist. Considering we were technically going to live with each other for eternity, I had this sudden need to diffuse the tension, and being the natural leader I am since I was an art teacher for fuck’s sake—

‘Are you feeling ashamed that we all know how you died?’ A man with dark red hair asked. My thoughts were immediately cut short when he began to speak… and now I want to choke him for interrupting me. Perhaps I have a temper problem. Perhaps. The girl nodded a ‘yes’ at him, which only made the man give her a small smile. He had a pretty smile, I’ll admit that. But that gives me more of a reason for wanting to kill him. Though, there is probably no use in doing so since we are all dead anyway and well, we’re all in hell.

‘Well, don’t feel bad. My name is Yuta, and we all had embarrassing deaths. There isn’t a need to feel ashamed or upset sweetheart—‘

‘Oh cut the crap Yuta, stop flirting with people. I’m Johnny by the way. If you think he’s a therapist or something, no he isn’t.’ A 6’0” man interrupted him, which only made the so-called Yuta glare at the tall guy.

‘Ya’ll know each other?’ I asked, which for some reason caused Mark to nudge me. I raised my left eyebrow at him, giving him a ‘what the fuck’ look, but I probably should have guessed it: the bitch actually died from embarrassment, of course he’d be nervous talking to anyone.

‘Uh, yeah. Yuta is a drug dealer, and I was his personal accountant. We died together from stupidly running away from the cops and ran straight into a wall and well… a wall killed us’ Johnny said, scratching the back of his head, clearly not proud of his death. If I thought Mark’s laughter couldn’t get louder and funnier, it just did. Naturally, everyone laughed along with him, including myself. And just like that, we all got inside, sat on the huge couch, and got to know each other’s names and how we pathetically left Mother Earth. The blue hair woman turned out to be an ‘influencer’ on Instagram based in Korea— Jung Wheein. She claimed that she already knew that influencer wasn’t an appropriate term since she just posts pictures of herself, but it gave her money nonetheless. The girl who exposed her death was Ryujin; she had short dark hair, which only added to her ‘mysteriousness’ if that made sense. She didn’t tell us her story though. All we know is that she was an international student in Germany. The man who was ‘laughing in joy’ while watching his own death was Moon Taeil. His death was probably the least embarrassing compared to all of us since it wasn’t his fault. He was riding a horse and fell off midway and well… you know the rest. The rest of the people were Rosé, Jaemin, Jungwoo, Yuna, Momo, and Donghyuck. I would like to tell you their stories, but I honestly stopped listening. This is completely irrelevant, but that Jungwoo kid has been making heart eyes to everyone and I do not know what to feel about it.

We all eventually decided to call it a day, and because hell is such a magnificent place, we all had our own rooms with our names beautifully written on the door in gold. The first floor was already beautiful itself; a huge L-shaped leather couch with a perfectly carved wooden centre table to give it that home-like touch. The kitchen was huge as well, which made Jaemin squeal in happiness because he apparently liked to cook a lot. The kitchen matched the modern theme in the living room. The greyish marble decorated the room with a touch of dark brown to further amplify the modern vibe. It was like those pictures you see in model houses. The second floor carried out the same aesthetic. The only difference was that there was one corridor with 13 doors all spread out; 6 rooms on the left, and 7 rooms on the right. This was probably the first thing I didn’t like in this paradise-hell. It’s just too narrow and crowded, but who am I to complain. After saying our good night’s to one another, I walked up to the door with my name displayed on it: ‘___________ _____________.’ Taking a deep breath, my cold hand turned the knob.

Second biggest mistake of my life. Or afterlife per se.

What the fucking hell is this?

It was every art teacher’s nightmare. The colours of the room did not match at all, and the chosen textures of the fabrics and cloths made no sense. Who the fuck uses terrycloth, or towel cloth, as bedsheets? Who matches neon green with pale pink? And the paintings that were hanging on the room, they’re incomplete! The only good thing about this room was that I had my own poorly designed bathroom, but other than that, it made me want to go blind. Was everyone’s room like this? I left the room, not wanting to believe that I was assigned to that disastrous room. I knocked on Mark’s door to check since I technically tackled him in the plane. We have a relationship alright.

Nothing.

I knocked again.

Nothing.

Before I could knocked on the third time, I heard a muffled sob through the door. Was he crying?

‘Mark? Can I come in?’ I softly asked, unsure if what I did was the right thing.

‘S-sure, it m-might be scary-y though s-so try not to get f-frightened’ the poor boy stuttered through his tears. Did he find the colour scheme of the bedroom to be that bad? Unsure of what to expect, I slowly opened the door and, it was nothing like my room. The room had a white and yellow colour scheme, with those glow-in-the-dark stars scattered across the ceiling, resembling a child’s bedroom. Nothing was scary to be honest, until I saw what type of pictures were posted on the cream walls: bugs. Mark was scared of bugs. Mark was sitting on the floor with his knees tucked towards his chest, whereas his tear-stained face was hidden in his arms. As if he was my student, I crouched down next to him as I slowly rubbed his back.

‘Mark, they’re just pictures, they won’t harm you. But if it bothers you so much, should I take them down for you?’ I gently asked as I tried to calm him down. His teary doe eyes locked with mine, and he whispered a mumbled ‘yes’ through his croaked voice. I sighed in response, returning him a nod so he knows that I will take it off. Grabbing a picture by the corner I ripp— okay wow this glue is strong. Grabbing a picture by the corner with both of my hands, I harshly took it of— why isn’t it coming off?

‘Uh Mark, it’s not coming off’ I said, trying my best to pull it out, but it just won’t budge.

‘SOMEONE SWITCH ROOMS WITH ME WHY ARE THERE VEGETABLES ALL OVER THE PLACE THIS IS NOT COOL!’ Donghyuck shouted, which was soon followed by a shut of his door.

What the fuck is happening?

a/n: hehehehe i’m so ready to get to the main story in. bby mark is so precious omg protect him from this world 🥺as always, if you’d like to be added in the taglist, just let me know through asks <3

taglist: @ta3ilmoon @lelenoir @murasakillmepls @neolights @anothermessedupbitch

back to masterlist?

22 notes · View notes

diivinerose · 4 years ago

Text

Lost boy lost in the woods...

@ruthlessnessisyourdesire / plotted starter

It was a sunny morning and Daisy went like every day into the forest with her basket to look out for some food, while admiring the beauty of the nature and taking a walk. The dew was still hanging in the leaves and everything glittered so beautifully in the morning light. Suddenly she heard a low whine, which immediately caught the young girl's attention. With quick steps she tried to find where the noise was coming from when she heard another whine. Her steps slowed and she had pricked up her ears and eyes when she suddenly saw it in front of her. A wolf pup lay huddled between the roots of a tree. Carefully she approached the animal that looked scared at her with its big blue eyes. Daisy put down her basked and approached the pup very slowly with open palms so he could see that she didn't had any weapons in her hand. "Please don't be afraid of me. I am not gonna hurt you." She reached out her hand carefully and let the puppy sniff her hand. She just remembered that she had some mushrooms and berries in her basket and passed them in front of his nose.

Carefully he got onto his little paws and sniffed the food when decided to start eating them. Looks like he was hungry. Daisy looked around. "Why are you here so alone? Where is your mother?" The pup put his paws in front of his face and let out another sad whine. That image was so heartbreaking that Daisy hat troubles not to cry for that young wolf pup. It seems like his mother left him all alone. She tried again and reached out her hand as he allowed her to stroke his head. Daisy knelt next to him and stroked the little wolfs head and back. He was so beautiful. A gray wolf with a white underbelly. Apparently he had found so much trust in her that he snuggled up against her leg and licked her hand. She sat like this for quite a while until she suddenly heard calls from her sisters who were terrifyingly close. The wolfs pup had made himself comfortable on her legs, but in her panic Daisy got up with him in his arms. She was thinking where to hide him but it was already late when Dahlia found her. "Hey Daisy where have you been? We called you the whole time- Hey is that a baby wolf? Daisy immediately turned her back to her bigger sister to protect the little pup of her sister's eyes, but she was faster. Suddenly she was in front. "Wow! That's really a baby wolf! How cool! Where did you find him? He is really cute can I hold him too?" "Okay, but please be careful. He is still scared." Reluctantly, she handed him the pup but he was so joyful that he immediately started to wag his tail as soon her sister cuddled him. "Tell me Daisy, What were you going to do with that cup?" That was actually a good question where she didn't really have an answer to. "I think his mother left him. I thought of taking him home and-" Dahlia didn't let her finish, because she knew where it was going to end. "Are you insane? You know how much father hate wolves. He is a hunter. Do you really think that he is going to allow that?" "What will father not allow?" A third voice and Daisy slumped completely. She hadn't expected her biggest sister. Daniela came up to them both and looked at them before she noticed the gray ball of fur that Daisy had already snatched back from her other sister and pressed closely on her chest. "Oh" Her eldest sister was the spitting image of Dahlia, but they were more different in character than someone even could image. Who would have thought that 13 minutes would make such a difference by twins. Daniela had put it together pretty quickly and her face spoke volumes that she was not quite happy about the situation she just discovered. "Daisy no." "Daisy yes! Stop always being against everything!" Dahlia immediately jumped in front of Daisy and glared at her twin. Daisy felt visibly uncomfortable and even the little wolf felt the tension and started to whine. She pressed him automatically closer. "Stop it you two! You scare him" She immediately stroked his fur soothingly and stood between her sisters. "Daniela he lost his mother and he wouldn't survive out here alone and you Dahlia," she looked at her other sister reproachfully, "You didn't agree with me earlier. You are just doing this to argue with Daniela. Stop being so quarrelsome!" Both sisters looked at her puzzled and said nothing for a long time. Daniela came closer to Daisy and carefully stroked the head of the pup. All this feminine attention appealed to the little wolf. "Okay, please tell me what you have planned Daisy. I'm all ears." And so the three of them sat down on the forest with a little puppy whom they all three alternately gave their love, while they worked out how to keep him in their home without her father knowing about it. They decided to hide him in their room that the three shared. The good thing was that he was very small so it was easy to hide him in the room. It would only get more difficult when he was getting bigger, but that was something to think about later. The three sister went back and Daisy hid him in his basket. Luckily their father was not at home. He was probably in the village to finish a few things. They quickly prepared a little corner for him to sleep on Daniela's bed and gave him adequate food. Since Dahlia and Daisy slept together and Daniela had a little corner to herself, which meant that she had to take care of the little one during the night. They had agreed on everything. Daniela still had slight doubts, but they were gone as soon she looked into the beautiful intelligent blue eyes of the wolf. ~ The evening came and the four of them sat at the table. Their father was the hunter of the village and lived with his three daughters in a small house near the forest. Their mother passed away when Daisy was still small, leaving her husband and three daughters behind. The father said the grace before he shared the bread and began to talk about his day. "You won't believe what I was able to hunt today down." Daisy and Daniela reacted rather passively to their father's hunting successes. Dahlia was more enthusiastic and was not bad itself with the bow herself. She wasn't afraid to skin an animal and clean up the entrails what couldn't really be said about Daisy. "Today I saw a big wolf and was able to kill her! A beautiful gray wolf. You can make beautiful furs out of it or we can sell it to buy something nice for you girls." At the mention of the gray she-wolf, the girls looked at each other and all thought of the same thing. They were quite and let their father continue talking about how he exactly did it. "Who would have thought, but she was recently pregnant. She was about to hide her cubs while I was on the lookout for her. A bow in the heart and she was instantly dead. I also found and killed 3 of her cubs. We don't need any more wolves in the forest." The father was so proud of his achievement that he realised later how pale Daisy got. "Daisy is everything all right?" Daisy was silent and tried not to burst out in tears in front of everyone. With a quick movement she got up from the table and ran out. Daniela and Dahlia gave each other an unmistakable signal and went immediately into action. "I'll have a look at her." With these words Daniela ran after Daisy and left Dahlia with her father. He in turn looked at his daughter questioningly who immediately answered her. "Daisy hasn't been well all day." "If it's been like this all day we'd better take her to the healer." "Father that won't be necessary. You know that Daniela is almost finished with her training. She will handle that. You'd better tell me what you did with all the wolves." ~ Daniela found Daisy sobbing against a tree trunk. When she felt her sister's presence, she turned and clung to her. "How could he do that Daniela? He killed them all! Mother and cups!" Daniela didn't say a word, just stroked Daisy's hair soothingly until she took her face in her hands and brushed the tears away with her thumb. "I know it's terrible. People shouldn't do that and I know it hurts, but always keep in mind that pain can make you stronger. You have to be strong now for the remaining puppy, do you understand my dear?" Daisy had listened carefully and just sniffed. Her sister's words got through and they walked back together avoiding their father for the rest of the evening. ~ There the three of them sat in a circle, late in the evening in their rooms with the little wolf's pups in the middle. They played and giggled softly without waking their father. "Shouldn't we choose a name for him?" The suggestion came from Dahlia. The three of them were in their room and sat in a circle. The little pup in the middle and trying to catch the little ball that three threw at each other. Giggling softly without waking up their father. "A name?" "Yes" "Do you have something in mind?" "Caleb" "Caleb?" Daniela and Daisy saw her sister while Dahlia picked up the puppy and kissed him on the nose. "Exactly, Is Caleb not good?" "No, no Caleb is fine." "Caleb is perfect." "Then it is decided. Welcome to your new family Caleb."

#ruthlessnessisyourdesire #[ Werewolf!HD!Caleb ]#|| sister verse: sisters by blood a bond unbroken #( long post )#((its exactly 1679 words long))#((I am sorry ;-;))#tw: death mention #tw: death of an animal #[ Lost Boy Lost In The Woods ]

7 notes · View notes

theartofimaginaryfriends · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 2 - New Haven Plaza

Fic Series: The Final Straw (HP/PJO Crossover)

Premise: Nova goes to New Haven Plaza with the demigods and meets up with a friend.

Masterlist

taglist: @ilvermornymascot

Word count: 1,479

A/N: So I recognize that I was unclear, but this fic centres around my OC, Nova. Also!! I hate this chapter but it's definitely a needed filler chapter. It'll pick up in the next installment and we'll get to see who goes to Ilvermorny apart from the Golden Trio! Sorry this took so long, and sorry for the terrible quality. I promise it'll be better. Please comment as it keeps me motivated, and let me know if you want to be on the taglist! Quick shouout to @lukecastellandeservedbetter for helping me figure out New Haven Plaza and the entrances!!

Instead of flying into camp, the owls dropped the letters from the edge of the border. Nova watched in amusement as the sky began to rain envelopes, leaving her fellow campers dumbfounded as they watched the scene unfold. Few were jumping to grab a letter, reminding the witch of a story her friend Harry Potter had told her.

Apparently, his aunt and uncle were displeased about him being a wizard, so they did everything they could to stop them from arriving. One day, over one hundred letters entered the house and flew everywhere. It was an amusing image, and she could only imagine what it would’ve looked like in person. Apparently, his Uncle Vernon's face turned a shade of purple only Dionysus would be proud of.

A week after the letters arrived, they were greeted by a group of Roman demigods led by Praetor Frank Zhang. They had received the same letters and wanted to discuss it with the counsellors at Camp Half-Blood. Nova was heavily involved in that meeting, answering questions and explaining what the school was like. Clarisse and Annabeth seemed to be the most apprehensive about joining the school, but Nova explained it was for the best. It had to be for a reason, and they had to go to find out.

Now, she was leading a huge group of demigods in a sea of orange and purple shirts through the theatre district of New York. The American Wizard Shopping District - New Haven Plaza - was hidden within an entrance behind the Lyric Theatre. However, there was a new one for the demigods, and Nova couldn’t resist joining them to check it out.

It was easy to navigate. The entrance was behind the Lucille Lortel Theatre, and they had arrived during a matinee. Luckily, there wouldn't be any fans or cast members there to question why a group of school kids were touring the area. Nova was relieved that she didn't have to lie her way through it this time.

The doorway to the plaza looked like a boring stage door at first, but when the mist dissipated it revealed an intricate oak door. A bouncer, and a familiar face, stood next to it. "Hey, Diego."

"Hey, Nova," the bouncer smiled. "How has your summer been?"

"Weird and busy," she answered, chuckling. "Although, that's not unusual. How do we get to the Plaza through here?"

"Greek demigods just need their necklaces visible, and Roman demigods need to show their tattoos-"

"Bro!" Percy Jackson and Jason Grace, who had both, chorused. Nova looked back to see them grinning at each other, and stifled a laugh.

"Sorry about those two," she said. "Please, continue."

"It's quite alright," Diego laughed. "Obviously, the mortals can't see the door, but it opens into a room in The Greedy Pixie. Lyria is expecting you all."

"Did everyone get that?" Nova shouted, turning to the group behind her. After hearing a chorus of yeses and no's, she asked the people that had heard to pass it onto everyone else. The Hecate kids lead the group in, and they immediately entered a room with an oak interior. There were various pieces of art on the wall, all from different cultures and artists but with the same colour scheme. Lyria Michaels was waiting at the inner entrance to the private room.

"So this is what it looks like."

"I was told to expect a big group so I used an undetectable extension charm in this area. Can't risk having a single student outside the theatre." Lyria smiled, giving Nova a hug. They chatted as everyone filed in, the demigods almost having to pack in like sardines. "Oh dear, I underestimated."

"Some of us will be out of your hair soon enough," Nova promised. Chiron was the last to enter and greeted the shopkeeper before turning to his kids.

"We will all meet back here in three hours," he told them. "Please focus on getting your school supplies before exploring, but after that please have fun with respect to the wizard community."

Once Chiron dismissed his kids, the room went into chaos. Few demigods stayed behind to eat, and most were rushing to explore. Nova separated from her siblings after a quick trip to the bank and decided to stop at the dressmaker first. The item on the list was dress robes, which worried Nova a little. The last time dress robes were a requirement, a friend of hers died at the hands of Voldemort.

Daria, the owner, rushed Nova further back once she stepped foot in the shop. Nova laughed, expecting the seamstress to be excited. As much fun as she had helping first years get the uniform, she loved getting people fitted into dresses and suits. "So what kind of dress robe will it be for you, my dear?"

"A dress," Nova smiled. "Navy, if possible."

Immediately, the seamstress pulled out on off the shoulder ball gown with silver detailing around the waist. The dress was floor-length, and the skirt was pleated. Nova happily took it and went into an available dressing room to try it on. It fit perfectly, Daria having put a charm that would resize itself depending on who wore it, and she stepped out to show the seamstress. "That's the one!"

Nova barely argued but stood in front of the mirror a bit longer to admire herself. "Nova?"

"What?" She turned around and met with one of her best friends, Cree Fletcher. "Oh hey, Cree!"

"I didn’t think you'd be here today!" He cheered, running over to hug her. "You look stunning, by the way. Dress robe for this year?"

"Yes," she answered. "Which reminds me, I should change out of this so I can pay for it."

Nova slipped back into the change room and got back into her camp clothes. Cree was standing where she was previously, looking at himself in a burgundy suit. "That looks great!"

Daria busied herself with packing up Nova's dress, and Nova fished for the dragots she owed. "It's either this or the basic black and white."

"Get the burgundy," Nova told him. "Stand out from the heterosexuals."

Cree laughed and agreed before changing back into his civilian clothing. "You came with your camp, hey?"

"Yeah, I did," she nodded. "Thanks, Daria!"

"Of course, dear!" The seamstress approached her next customers, and Nova and Cree headed to the bookstore.

Cosmic Arcana had thousands of books to look through and was as big as the library at Hogwarts. To help the students find the books they need, the shopkeeper organized the required texts by year in different sections. Cree and Nova found what they needed in no time, but stayed back a bit to help first-years find the correct section.

After Nova had finished explaining the layout to another group of eleven-year-old's, she bumped into someone as she stood up. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Nova turned around and was met with Percy Jackson. "Oh, hey Nova."

"Hey, Percy," she smiled. They weren't close, but Percy was one of the few demigods that were genuinely kind to her and her siblings. "Enjoying the plaza, I hope."

"It's pretty cool, actually," he admitted. "Although is it really a good idea to have us go to the same school as wizards? I've heard that they don't exactly get along with demigods."

"Chiron and the Headmaster think it's for the best," Nova said, plainly.

"Although the reason why is beyond me. Anyway, I should get going. Still have more shopping to do. Sorry for bumping into you, again."

"No harm done. See you later." Percy turned around and made his way to his best friend, Annabeth.

"Who was that?" Cree stared at the demigod, who seemed semi-interested in the books Annabeth gushed over.

"His name is Percy," Nova told him. "I don't know him very well, but he's nice."

"He's nice?" The Metis boy's eyes widened. "Just nice? Nova, you have to be blind to not notice how attractive he is."

"Dude, lower your voice," Nova glanced at the son of Poseidon, who luckily hadn't seemed to hear anything. "Okay, I'm not going to deny it but everyone at camp has had a crush on him at some point."

"So you do like him!"

"I did until I was fifteen!" She corrected, laughing. "I'll tell you more about it later, I have more interesting news for you."

Nova told her friend about the visit from Professor Tahamente and Professor McGonagall, leaving out the details of the prophecy. He listened intently, asking questions that Nova had to evade. She wanted to tell Cree everything, but the streets were too busy and she couldn't risk it.

After all, he'd find out soon enough. There was a third part to the prophecy that wasn't spoken yet, and it was only a matter of time until everyone found out.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfic #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic #harry potter/percy jackson crossover #harry potter/percy jackson crossover fic

6 notes · View notes

the-hidden-writer · 4 years ago

Text

An Odd Family Tree

A series of snippets from the lives of the FitzSimmons family, set post 7x13. Also, the series of events that lead up to the birth of their grandson.

Available to read on AO3 and FF.net.

Comments make my day!

Epilogue (1)

.Q.000000073.FS.M. D_01.15.1985_2153. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“So, um, hi. It’s me. This is attempt seventy-three at getting this stupid thing to work, blah blah blah, etcetera. I, uh… miss you, wish you were here, all the usual stuff. Love you.”

“Maybe you should, perhaps, at least consider giving up? This is, as you said, the seventy-third attempt at a successful communication, and since it is taking up a considerable portion of your time-”

“No. No way. I’m not gonna give up now. I mean, you helped me build it! You’re seriously gonna let all that hard work go to waste?”

“That was not what I was implying. You could, instead, view the problem from a different angle.”

“Which angle, Enoch?! You think I haven’t done that already?! This stupid machine already has too many damn angles!”

“If you are counting the inner components then there are approximately-”

“Yeah, didn’t mean that literally buddy. But I guess you’re right. Like normal. Ugh... I kinda wish I’d properly thought about this before I- wait, did you hear that?”

“Hear what exactly?”

“D- there! That beeping noise. You heard that, right? I’m not just going insane?”

“I have noticed that you display multiple symptoms of psy-”

“Hold on, it’s still online!”

“Oh. It is.”

“It- It’s transmitting fine, recording smoothly, sound quality’s decent so remind me to fix that but… it’s working. It’s actually working!”

“Well done. But I do have to warn you that this technology should not exist on Earth in this time period.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Right, Enoch, I’m gonna need you to get out of here. This beautiful thing is finally working and I kinda wanna use it before it blows up or something.”

“Of course.”

“Uh… in private? Alone?”

“Oh, I understand. You wish to record your message alone. Without me. In that case, I will take your leave, Director Shaw.”

“See you, buddy. Right. Now I just gotta press thi-”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000000074.FS.M. D_01.15.1985_2157. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Um… I… *ahem* This is a message for Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons. It’s a for-their-ears-only sort of thing, so if you’re not either of them then… uh… stop listening? No! Actually, if you’re not Leopold Fitz or Jemma Simmons, make sure this message gets to them. Please.”

“...I’m guessing this is Fitz or Simmons listening now. Hopefully both. Well, uh… it’s me! It’s Deke! I can’t believe I finally got this thing to work, haha. Uh… yeah.”

“So… you’re probably wondering what’s going on over here. SHIELD got blown up and- oh yeah, you guys were here for that. Or Nana was I think. It’s been a few years, I can’t remember exactly. Gotta adapt, y’know?”

“Speaking of! The second you guys left I might’ve accidentally become director of SHIELD. Which wasn’t my fault! I was nominated! Besides, I don’t know what was supposed to happen so…”

“Right, how am I sending this message. Funny story, actually. A few months after you guys left, Enoch turned up at my mansion and casually asked if he could murder me. Not our Enoch, by the way, this timeline’s Enoch. And he only wanted to kill me because he said I was this huge anomaly in the fabric of the universe and I could potentially doom humanity by just being here. Which sounds kind of dramatic, but nothing’s happened so far so I’m guessing we’re in the clear.”

“Basically, I managed to convince him that I was a good guy. I told him everything that happened and showed him my scars and everything to get him to believe me. And he did… eventually. He even helped me to build this quantum processor. Since this side is working now, I’m guessing it’ll work on the other end too. I’ve set it up to be like a mailbox that picks up anything that’s sent from the other end, so you won’t have to do the DNA-gene-splitting thing that I had to do to make sure it found you. You’re welcome.”

“It’s only audio for now. The 80s are great, but the technology sucks. And if we wanted to record video then I wouldn’t be able to buy supplies without getting asked about it. Equipment is expensive. Who knew. I’ll try and figure out at least how to send an image because I bet you’re missing my beautiful face.”

“That was the other thing: I miss you guys. It’s strange… I’ve spent most of my life on the Lighthouse and I knew a whole bunch of people there. Then when I came with you guys, sure it felt weird with them not being there, but I never really missed them. Probably because they came from that place.”

“But I miss you every day. Literally, every single day. And I love you. People look up to me here, but I don’t exactly have any family. I’ve got the Deke Squad, I guess, but they’re a different type of family. Not like you two.”

“So um, please send something back whenever you get this. I’ve set it so whenever you send something back, it’ll arrive here straight after I send the message you last listened to. I feel like I’m a time travel master now.”

“So I guess I’ll just… wait here. For your reply. Or just any sort of confirmation that you got this message. I’ll try and send you both a message at least once a week but it’d be great to get something back. I’m looking forward to hearing your voices.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000000079.FS.M. D_02.15.1985_1623. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Hey Nana and Bobo, it’s me again. Here’s the thing- it’s been a month. It’s been a whole month which is making me think that it’s something on my end. I’ll try and find the problem and fix it since I’d hate for your messages to get lost in that weird void between me and you.”

“But, if I’m gonna be honest, I realised that I don’t actually have any way of knowing if you guys made it back or not. Heck, I don’t even know if you managed to stop the chronicoms. And since I thought of that, I really can’t stop thinking about it, and it would really help if you could just let me know. Doesn’t have to be a whole message, just a yes or a no would do. You could even shout at me and I’d celebrate.”

“Seriously, if you’re all dead then… then I’m the only one alive. Again. I know I’m like 40 years behind you anyway, but it feels like the Lighthouse all over again! I got brought back from that and I felt like I’d cheated the system. Like- Like I didn’t belong, and I got out fine while everyone else stayed there and still had to suffer whatever’s going on up there. And this time I cheated because I’m the one who offered to stay behind and so I’m alive again while you’re all dead. I should’ve let Sousa do it, at least then I could’ve died with you.”

“No, no. You might be alive. You’re probably alive. I’m the one who’s… just send me something back. Please.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000000127.FS.M. D_04.13.1985_1829. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Nana, you won’t believe who invited me to a party! Pegs did! She was like, hey, I need you to be a distraction, you’re coming with me. Which is awesome because it’s like the first time she didn’t insult me in a sentence! Yeah… out loud that sounds kinda sad. But it means a lot to me, and I’m pretty sure you were a fan of Pegs or something? Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“Anyway, so, we went to this party and she said that since SHIELD is safe enough to be publicly known again I’d need to meet some guy that would help with finances. So we’re at this party, and Pegs takes me up to meet the guy. I promise, all I did was introduce myself (I was actually trying really hard to be serious and polite) and I asked his name and Peggy lost it. She literally almost fell onto the floor, she was laughing that hard. Yup, you heard me right. Peggy Carter. Laughing.”

“The guy, Harry I think his name was? No, Howard. Yeah, Howard was his name. So this Howard guy looks super offended and asked me if I knew who he was, and I said no because I honestly didn’t, and then Pegs offered to buy me a drink. I know! And she didn’t even yell at me for calling her Pegs!”

“So yeah, that happened. Since then she’s been smiling at me? I don’t know what I did, so I thought I’d throw it to you two to see if you had any ideas. You can boast to your friends that your grandson charmed over the great Peggy Carter.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001032.FS.M. D_07.12.1988_2306. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Hey Bobo, hey Nana. I’m kinda tired so I’ll keep it short today. The Deke Squad got an award today. It’s funny, I was so busy with SHIELD that I’d forgotten that we had that many fans.”

“Having a double life sounds fun, but trust me it’s hard. Ha.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001051.FS.M. D_10.22.1988_0642. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“I finally finished my first original song! Are you proud of me?”

“Since we won that award, every night I’ve been having visions of Bobo shouting my head off that all I do is steal stuff. So since I’ve been messing with music for so many years, I figured, how hard can it be?”

“...It’s very hard. But! It’s completed, and it feels good that I can at least announce that to someone. Even if those someones can’t answer me back. But that’s fine.”

“The song’s called Alya, and it’s all about family. That was my Mom’s name, by the way. Alya. I can’t remember if I ever told you that.”

“If you want songs about you, then you’ll have to let me know, okay? Cool.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001132.FS.M. D_11.25.1989_1903. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“So, um… Hydra attacked. Big time. We beat them in the end, but we lost a whole bunch of agents. Joe was only nineteen and he told me I was his hero. They shot him in the head, I had to identify his body, and I... And that’s… that’s on me.”

“If only I’d taken that shot when Daisy told me to. I could’ve killed Freddy and none of this would’ve happened. I practically killed all those agents and I… Sorry. You don’t wanna hear this kinda stuff.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001193.FS.M. D_03.09.1990_1903. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. I’m guessing that you aren’t getting these messages so it doesn’t feel as weird to me anymore. And if you are… then I’m sorry you have to hear this. But you’re the only people who I’d want to hear it anyway.”

“Ever since they made me director of SHIELD, I feel like I’ve been faking my way through it. I faked my way through the Lighthouse, I faked my way into money and fame, I faked music for a fake band and I faked knowing how to be a director. I’m just… God, I’m just not cut out for it. People are dying and I can’t stop it. SHIELD needs an actual leader, not a fraud like me.”

“Peggy does a lot, but she’s got her own responsibilities to manage so I get the brunt of it. There’s a few super clever agents that can easily take my place.”

“See, I don’t wanna be director anymore. But if I’m not… I don’t know what I’d do with myself. I don’t have anyone here, I don’t belong here, and I- I’m just nothing when you strip away my lies. And I wish that was an exaggeration.”

“And you know the worst part of it all?! I don’t know whether you guys are even alive! I send you these messages every week and I put my heart and soul into them and they could be just disappearing into nothingness! Then there really is nothing!”

“So… just in case you are listening, I love you. You did so much for me, you gave me a chance when nobody else would. It’s odd saying goodbye to thin air, but hey ho. And if you’re dead, then I guess I’ll see you soo- WOAH!”

“DEKE SHAW YOU LOOK AT ME THIS INSTANT!”

“Hey- Hey, Pegs! What are you doing here?! G-Get out, this is private, this is my house what are you-”

“Shut your idiotic mouth and hand me that gun.”

“Peggy, I-”

“Hand it over, Deke. Now.”

“Fine, here. But listen-”

“No buts, Shaw. Are you out of your mind? What were you thinking?!”

“Director Shaw.”

“Enoch, not you too!”

“Oh. It appears we were just in time.”

“You’re bloody right we were. Thank you, Enoch. You made the right decision coming to find me. Now Deke, you need to talk to me, alright? Whatever’s on your mind. You trust me, don’t y- wait... what is that?”

“This? U-Uh, noth-”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001196.FS.M. D_03.14.1990_1903. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Pegs and Jarvis took me on a picnic the other day. Honestly, the number of times people thought I was their son was hilarious. It was like ten different people. You should have seen the look on Peggy’s face when this girl asked what it was like being a mom to the sensation that is Deke Shaw. I can’t wait for cellphones.”

“They remind me of you two, y’know. Pegs and Jarvis. You’re all super sweet and smart and determined and kind and they just really remind me of you. Well, if you were both super old.”

“...Don’t tell Peggy I said that.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001872.FS.M. D_07.17.1993_1108. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“They just invented Zima! I can finally stop pretending to drink! You guys should both drink it in celebration. It’s a big day for me.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001627.FS.M. D_12.17.1991_2157. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Howard Stark and his wife got killed last night. Peggy and Jarvis are broken. I didn’t know them that well since he kind of hated me, but I feel really bad for his son.”

“I think I might go pay him a visit. See if I can cheer him up. Trust me, getting orphaned suddenly like that sucks.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001873.FS.M. D_07.17.1993_2351. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“So, um… kinda embarrassing story time. I ordered like 20 crates of Zima, but I couldn’t wait so I went and bought one from the store. And, uh… I couldn’t stomach it. It’s been so long since I actually drank that my body’s given up on me just like everyone else. Which is fine by me, but…”

“Now I don’t know what to do with 20 crates of Zima.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000002309.FS.M. D_09.12.1995_1342. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“So some alien woman crashed into Earth this week. It was a pain to sort out, but I sent Coulson and some guy called Fury on the case. Fury has a cool name, but he’s a bit mean sometimes. I guess it’s fitting.”

“Oh yeah, I recruited Coulson. I decided to steer Mack towards more traditional engineering since I’m guessing he’d get sick of SHIELD. I got May though. It’s weird being older than them all and not being able to say anything.”

“Anyway, apparently the alien woman might be Kree? I hope not. I really, really hope not. ‘Cause if she is… well, something about this whole situation already rubs me off in the wrong way. Just… I didn’t wanna hear the word ‘Kree’ ever again.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000003295.FS.M. D_05.21.1998_2126. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“We broke up the band today. We had a good run. I wish you could’ve seen us perform at least once. Miss you.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000003995.FS.M. D_01.01.2000_0034. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Happy new year! We’re in the third millennium now so I’m catching up to you! Yeah, I know that’s not how it works, but a boy can dream, right?”

“I tried drinking again but it didn’t work out. Oh well.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000005617.FS.M. D_11.04.2008_1738. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Little Tony turned into a superhero. Iron Man, they’re calling him. I feel like storming into his house and yelling about how much danger he’s putting himself in. He could get himself killed, and then what’ll I do?!”

“...Is this how you guys feel all the time? I don’t like being the responsible one.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000010007.FS.M. D_05.30.2012_1519. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Coulson is dead. I- I killed Coulson. There were all these aliens that turned up and we had to try and get the heroes to work together and I asked Coulson and Fury to help a-and that bastard trickster killed h-him. I want to kill him with my bare hands.”

“The heroes teamed up and stopped the invasion. I d-don’t really know why. When I heard about Coulson I just locked myself in. Tony said they fought for me, but that makes no sense.”

“I just… I can’t believe I screwed up so badly. Coulson was supposed to have a good few years ahead of him! H-He was supposed to bring the team together! I’m too old for that now, and I’ve messed up. I’m s-so sorry, but I… Coulson’s dead.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000010015.FS.M. D_06.22.2012_1712. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“I’ve decided to retire from SHIELD. I really, really can’t do this anymore. Besides, I can barely sit up straight. Fury can take over. I just need time to think.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000132907.FS.M. D_01.16.2059_1712. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Getting old is such a pain, right? Dr Dunphy said my time’s starting to close in on me now, and that just sounds so weird to me. All my life I’ve been hopping through time and death just felt so distant. Like I was immortal or something.”

“Guess we know that’s not true.”

“Now’s as good a time as any to surprise you, then. Back when I first met Enoch, we built an LMD version of me. Surprise!”

“Ha, bet you’re not that surprised, are you. Especially you, Bobo. This quantum bridge is just about strong enough to let one person through. Only problem is that once that happens, there’s no chance of communication from either way. And plus I was running SHIELD back then, so I didn’t get the chance to get back.”

“So when I do kick the bucket, Enoch will switch it on and help me get to you. I know it’s a bad thing to say but… I’m really excited to die.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000138056.FS.M. D_04.01.2061_0932. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Happy birthday to me… h-happy birthday to me… happy birthday dear De-eke, happy birthday to… to you.”

“I hope… I hope he has a better life than I had. Give Mom and Dad a hug from me. Do you think… my Mom and Dad will be there once I go? Does the afterlife have timelines? Ha…”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000138058.FS.M. D_04.05.2061_1002. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Enoch asked me whether… whether I wanted my life memories or just my… 1985 memories. I don’t want that version o-of me to have all these memories. I don’t want h-him to know he k-killed Coulson…”

“Calm down, Mr Shaw. Try and make sense for your memoir, okay?”

“B-But then I wouldn’t be able to tell you the stories. There’s so many stories I want to tell you, so… he’ll use these memories. There were good times too.”

“I c-can’t wait to see you, Nana, Bobo. See you soon.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000138059.FS.M. D_04.10.2061_1425. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Hello, Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons. My name is Enoch. I am a sentient chronicom from a planet that revolves around a star in the constellation you know as Cygnus. I regret to inform you that your grandson, aged 107, passed away this morning.

“As per his final request, I have sent an LMD version of Deke Shaw to what I believe is your timeline somewhere within a 10-mile radius of your location.”

“Goodbye.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

STATUS:[Offline]

#agents of shield #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#aos #deke shaw #enoch #peggy carter #fanfic #an odd family tree

8 notes · View notes

wistfulcynic · 5 years ago

Text

Their Way By Moonlight: A Day in the Life, Part 2 (Chapter 15)

For @thisonesatellite and @ohmightydevviepuu, and I hope you are not too drunk (and) or jet lagged to enjoy it ❤️❤️❤️

In which efforts to break the curse continue. Henry has an important meeting and reunites some old friends, Captain Book begins, and we learn more about the subtle knife.

SUMMARY: A new curse has fallen on Storybrooke and this time Emma is trapped inside it, deliberately separated from Henry and anyone else who might help her break it. But what no one knows –including her own cursed self– is that she and Killian have the ability to share their dreams, and are working together in secret to find a way to break the curse and free everyone from a new and dangerous foe.

Rating: M

AO3

A Day in the Life, Part Two:

Henry’s third stop on his busy Saturday was the pawn shop. It was just as he remembered it, or at least as much as anything in this Bizarro World version of Storybrooke could be as he remembered. The sign above the door still read ‘Mr Gold’, and inside the shop itself was still cluttered with wondrous and mysterious things. It had been dusty and dank and somewhat grim when Henry first returned to it three weeks earlier but now was much cleaner and better organised, brighter, and welcoming in a way that it certainly had never been before.

The front door was unlocked and Henry went right in. “Hi Mr Cassidy!” he called out as he closed it behind him.

“Hey, Henry,” came his father’s voice from the back. “Be right there.”

“Okay!” Henry looked around as he waited, peering curiously into the display cases and trying not to think too hard about where everything in them had come from. Despite all the improvements, the fact that the pawn shop was stocked with stolen things was still pretty creepy in his opinion. He hoped that after the curse broke Neal would give them back to their rightful owners and not hoard them for his own gain the way Mr Gold had.

Henry hoped for a lot of things from Neal after the curse broke.

It worried him a bit, if he was honest, wondering what was going to happen to them—to all of them, really—after the curse. He and Neal had spent so little actual time together that Henry wasn’t sure how much of his image of his father was real and how much was wishful thinking. Killian had told him loads of stories of “Bae” as a boy, and Emma, once they got their memories back in New York, had finally told him the truth about the watches and giving birth to him in jail. But they seemed like such different people, Killian’s Bae and Emma’s Neal, and both were so different from Henry’s impressions of the man he’d met that he felt more confused than ever. At this point he wasn’t even quite sure what he wanted from the man or even what kind of man he hoped Neal would turn out to be. He only knew that he couldn’t turn his back on his own father, not even when that father had abandoned his mother and by extension him.

(“That’s not entirely fair, lad,” Killian had said a few weeks earlier when they were having lunch together, just the two of them. “He didn’t know you existed. Perhaps if he had, he’d have made a different choice.”

“Maybe,” Henry replied. “But he still left my mom in jail.”

“Aye,” Killian agreed. “So he did, and I also find that difficult to forgive. I’m certain he regrets it, though.”

Henry thought for a moment. “I’m not sure it matters that he regrets it,” he said. “Not if he doesn’t admit it was wrong and try to make up for it. Mom says he never even told her he was sorry.” He looked up at Killian. “Do you think he ever will?”

Killian took his time answering. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I don’t know if he will ever understand just how deeply he hurt your mother. Truthfully, I feel I know the man far less than I did the boy. I’d like to believe that Bae is still in there somewhere, but Neal unfortunately seems to be a bit too much like his father.”

“Yeah,” said Henry. “But even Rumplestiltskin did the right thing in the end. He sacrificed himself to save us from Pan. Maybe my father will do the right thing too.”

“Who’s to say but that he will,” replied Killian.

Henry thought a bit more, then said firmly, “I’m gonna give him the chance to try.”

Killian smiled at him, the proud smile that always made Henry feel warm inside. “I think that’s the right decision,” he said. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”)

The curtain separating the front of the shop from the back shifted, and Neal appeared. He smiled at Henry. “Hey, kid, what’s up?”

“Nothing special. I was just wondering how things are going here?”

“Good, yeah, good.” Neal smile turned a bit awkward and he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s a learning curve, not gonna lie. But I’m getting the hang of it. Think I’ll be able to open next week.”

“That’s great!”

“Yeah. Hope so. Your dad’s been a lot of help, showing me the ropes of how to run a business. Tell him thanks from me, will you?”

“Sure. Or you could come to dinner with us tonight and do it yourself.”

“Dinner? What, like, at your house?”

“Yep! My dad said it was okay if I asked you. He’s making burgers and he always makes too many, and we just thought you might like some company.”

“Oh.” Neal blinked in confusion, a look Henry had come to realise meant he was thinking about something that would never have occurred to his cursed self on its own. “Um… sure, okay. Thanks.”

“Cool! It’s above the bookstore. You know where that is, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So just ring the bell and we’ll come downstairs to get you. About seven?”

Neal grinned. “I’ll be there. Thanks, Henry.” He shook his head and his grin shifted into an odd little smile, wistful and slightly sad.

“What’s wrong?” asked Henry.

“Oh, nothing, nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking. About how much has changed these last few weeks.” He leaned back against the register, crossing his arms over his chest. “I mean, it’s weird, right, the way those old records just showed up one day in the mayor’s office?”

“Yeah. Very weird.” Henry struggled to keep his face blank.

“I didn’t even know my father owned a pawn shop.” Neal frowned. “I don’t remember much about my father, actually.”

“That’s probably why you didn’t know,” said Henry.

“Yeah, probably. Anyway, it’s changed my life, you know. I never wanted to be a janitor, but—” he shrugged “—there wasn’t really anything else I could do. Now I can do this. Some kind of luck, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” said Henry. “Luck.” And his mom’s magical forgery skills that were second to none. “I’m really glad, Mr Cassidy. I hope you’ll like working here.”

“Yeah, thanks. I really think I will,” said Neal.

“You came to inquire about the subtle knife.” Oisín smiled, leaning back in his chair. “May I see it?”

Emma huffed in annoyance, reminding herself that he was their best chance to find answers despite his supercilious nature and the supremely irritating way he always knew about things before they happened. She opened Killian’s satchel and took the knife from it.

Oisín’s face was calm as she carefully removed the knife from the plastic evidence bag where she had kept it wrapped since she’d taken it from the loft, but there was a glint in his eyes that Emma recognised, having seen it in Killian’s on more than one occasion. It was the look of a man about to get his hands on a treasure he never imagined he’d have the chance to touch. She held the knife out to him and he took it almost reverently.

“It’s extraordinary,” he breathed, letting his fingertips trail along the blade, and Emma couldn’t suppress an eye roll. What was it with men and weapons, she thought. Even the supposedly wise immortal ones were hard for them.

“What can you tell me about it?” she asked.

The look he gave her was nearly as sharp as the knife itself. “What do you already know?”

“Not much. There’s mention of it in a book Henry found, but that was the only reference any of us could uncover. The book said that it was the sharpest blade in existence, and could cut through the fabric of reality, whatever that means.”

“That is correct,” said Oisín. “The blade of Æsahættr is two-sided, as you can see.” He held the knife up to the the shop’s dusty window, catching the faint light with its two-toned blade. “It was forged of two different metals. This side—” he indicated the shiny edge “—can cut through any substance in any realm, while this one... can cut through the barriers between the realms themselves.”

“So you’re saying that someone could use this knife to—to cut a portal between two realms?” asked Regina.

“Indeed.”

Regina and Emma exchanged a look. “So that’s how she did it.” Regina sounded almost awestruck. “That’s how she made the portals.” She shook her head. “That’s—well, it’s terrifying magic.”

“Terrifying indeed,” said Oisín. “And also extraordinarily dangerous. The energy that divides the realms is dangerously unstable, as well as being very powerful and difficult to breach. Cutting permanent portals into it brings vastly unpleasant consequences. I’d advise you not to attempt it, if there is any other method of realm travel at your disposal.”

“We don’t need realm travel,” said Emma, just as Regina exclaimed “Permanent portals?”

“Yes, permanent,” Oisín replied. “It is possible to close them but doing so requires a delicacy of touch and a close relationship with the subtle knife, neither of which I believe your sister is capable.”

“That’s probably true,” said Regina, just as Emma exclaimed “A relationship with the knife?”

“Oh yes,” said Oisín, returning his attention to Emma, mirth twinkling in his emerald eyes. “The subtle knife always has a bearer, and though I cannot See who that bearer is, I am certain it is not Zelena.”

“She probably stole it,” said Regina.

“That seems likely to be the case. And also likely that she forced the bearer to cut the portals.”

Emma was frowning hard. “So how would someone go about becoming a—a bearer of this knife?” she asked.

Oisín smiled, the smile of a man who has lived long and seen much, most of it unpleasant. “In the time-honoured way of passing a magical weapon from one hand to another,” he said. “By killing the previous bearer.”

“Hmmm.” Emma’s frown deepened. “And is there any way of identifying the bearer?”

“Perhaps, though it is difficult to be certain. The lore of Æsahættr is vague at best; in most realms it is entirely unknown and in others spoken of only in hushed whispers. Even I had believed it a myth, until I perceived its presence in this land. All I can tell you is that in some of the whispers there is mention of the bearer suffering injury to his left hand in the process of obtaining the knife. The loss of fingers, I believe.”

“Hmmm,” said Emma again. “Okay. Just one more question. You said that this side—” she pointed at the shiny edge”—can cut through any substance in any realm?”

“Yes.”

“What about magic?”

“Oisín’s eyes glinted again. “In theory, yes. But I rather suspect you knew this already.”

Emma nodded, slowly. “I saw it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I wasn’t sure I could believe what I saw. I was fighting Zelena, I had her trapped within a containment spell… and Henry just—he just—cut the spell open. He sliced right through my magic.”

Regina drew in her breath sharply. “He did?”

“Yes didn’t you—oh, I suppose you couldn’t see the light magic?”

“Not as clearly as you, no. But could Henry?”

“I imagine that young Henry perceived the magic more than strictly saw it,” remarked Oisín. “Perception, not sight, is what guides the subtle knife; the barriers between worlds are invisible to all eyes. That which one can perceive, however, one can cut.”

Henry’s fourth stop of the day was Granny’s, just in time for lunch. The diner was busy as always, bustling with people and noise, and when the crowd parted and Henry caught a glimpse of his grandparents tucked away in a corner booth staring at each other with the same dopey looks on their faces that he saw all the time on his mom and dad, he couldn’t hold back a gleeful grin.

“Hey, Archie,” he said, sliding onto a stool next to the erstwhile psychiatrist, who looked tired and hopeless and and very wrong dressed as a miner, with grime beneath his fingernails and settled deeply into the lines on his face. His wire-rimmed glasses had been replaced by safety goggles and his hair looked thinner. Nevertheless he greeted Henry with a warm smile.

“Hello, Henry,” he said. “How are you?”

“Good! Can I ask you something?

“Of course.”

“Have you ever considered getting a dog?”

When Henry first began his quest to return love to the people of Storybrooke he had opted for little suggestions, gentle hints designed to nudge them in the right direction. It hadn’t taken him long to realise that with this curse subtlety was futile, and that they responded to nothing but what his dad called “sledgehammer tactics.” Hey, Belle, have this book. Here, Neal, take this pawnshop. So, Archie, how’d you like a dog? The direct approach was the only one that worked.

“A dog?” Archie replied. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

“Really? Because I think you’d be great as a dog dad.”

“A dog dad…” Archie’s voice trailed off and a dreamy look settled in his eyes. “I’ve never thought of getting a dog.” He frowned in confusion. “That is, I don’t think I have. But actually… yes. A dog. Yes. That might be just the thing.”

“Uh huh,” said Henry, who was keen to waste no time. “I saw one today I think you would love. A Dalmatian.”

“Really?”

“Yep. At the animal shelter. He just got there today.”

“A Dalmatian,” said Archie. “That’s the black and white spotted ones, right?”

“Yep. I petted him, he’s really friendly. And he really needs a home.”

Archie looked uncertain. “I don’t know if I could take care of a dog, Henry. I work long hours, you know.”

Yeah but you won’t for much longer, Henry thought. Not if I have anything to say about it.

“Just go meet him,” he wheedled. “I’ll come with you if you like.”

Archie warred with himself for another moment then nodded. “All right. I’ll meet him.”

It was barely a quarter past two when Belle arrived at the bookshop. Killian was busy helping customers and didn’t see her right away. It still surprised him how much business the shop drew in, considering the place only existed to give him a respectable and non-suspicion-raising occupation and a reason to move to Storybrooke, and also as a means of getting books of magic to a place where Emma could have access to them, both to help her rediscover her own magic and to give them all the information they would need to take on Zelena. It had certainly fulfilled all those roles, admirably, but now that the curse was near to breaking Killian had begun to think ahead. He would need something to occupy his days, and what with his ship and his crew most likely stranded in Neverland with Blackbeard as their captain, a return to piracy or even a more respectable ship-based occupation was firmly off the table. His only real option was to keep the bookshop.

The more that he thought about it the more appealing the idea grew. He truly loved his little shop, the light and airy space all his own that he had organised and furnished to suit his tastes. He loved his books, the way they smelled and how they looked lined up neatly on his shelves. He loved matching those books to the people who sought them, loved both the pleased looks on his customers’ faces and the satisfaction of closing a sale. He loved the mental exercise of keeping his accounts and tracking his inventory, of looking through catalogs and choosing new books to purchase. Books that of course he would need to read himself in order to make recommendations to his customers. That prospect in particular he loved. Killian still found this realm frustrating and baffling in many ways but one thing that could be chalked up firmly in its favour was that it possessed a true wealth of reading material. He calculated he would need to live at least another three hundred years just to get through it all.

He began to think about expansion, about new genres he could introduce, popular titles that would attract new customers. Soon plans and ideas that started small had grown and grown until they were lodged firmly in his mind, refusing to be ignored or brushed aside. He wanted to do this, he realised, wanted it quite intensely, and for the first time in his very long life he had the luxury of choosing to do precisely what he wanted. Which was a surprisingly terrifying prospect but also a very welcome one.

Killian completed his sale then turned to greet the new customer with a smile that froze on his face when he recognised Belle. Though Henry had texted him to expect her visit he instinctively braced himself for her anger, her disgust, before he recalled that she was cursed and didn’t remember him.

“Hello,” he said, forcing himself to relax. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Are you Killian Jones?”

“Aye.”

“My—my name is Belle. Belle French. I, uh, know your son.”

“Ah, yes. I believe he mentioned you. He recommended a book to you?”

“Yes.” Belle’s face lit up. “A wonderful one. And he said, um, that you might be looking for an assistant? Here?”

Bloody Henry, thought Killian, with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. You drop one mention that you’re thinking of expanding and he runs with it. Still, he couldn’t deny that the quickest way to nurture Belle’s love of books would be to surround her with them. The lad was undeniably clever.

“I’m thinking about it,” he said. “Are you interested in the job?”

“Y—” Belle took a deep breath. “Yes. I am.”

“Well, why don’t you sit down and we’ll have a chat about it,” said Killian, gesturing to the sofa at the back of the shop. “Would you like a drink? Coffee? Tea?”

“Tea would be lovely.”

What the hell, thought Killian, as he went to make the tea, why not? When the curse broke she would doubtless be angry and scared of him again—and who could blame her?—but then he knew he’d be dealing with rather a lot of that once Storybrooke regained its memories. He might as well take what steps he could towards demonstrating how he had changed and hope that would be enough to convince people to give him a second chance.

“Perception,” echoed Emma. “Right. Okay. I think that’s all we needed to ask.” She turned to Regina. “Unless you have any other questions?”

“No.” Regina shook her head. “This has been very informative.”

Emma held out her hand for the knife and Oisín, after one last long look and a subtle caress, relinquished it. Carefully, Emma replaced it in the reinforced evidence bag and tucked it back into the satchel. She leaned the satchel against the leg of her chair and turned back to Oisín with an expression both resigned and expectant.

“What?” he asked.

“We’ve learned what I came here to learn,” she replied. “So we’ll be going now. We need to get back to Storybrooke before it gets too late.”

“Indeed. It was lovely seeing you, even for a short time.”

Emma frowned. “Is that it?”

“Were you expecting more?”

“Well, I mean, aren’t you going to give me some cryptically wise parting words?” asked Emma. “You usually do.”

“Not today,” said Oisín, amusement dancing in his eyes again. “I believe you know everything you need, and also that you understand the import of what you know.”

“Well that makes a change.”

He laughed, a light, musical sound that rang out far more loudly than it ought to in the small space of the shop. “You know, Emma, I’m very proud of you,” he said. “You were hardly the easiest pupil I have ever taught, but you are by far the most accomplished. And I don’t just mean your power, that you were born with. I mean your attitude and your approach to your magic. How you have let go of your fear and resentment of it. How you’ve embraced it. I believe that had you not, even Hook’s most determined efforts to restore it to you could not have been successful.”

Emma flushed, still not wholly comfortable with praise, and gave a little shrug. “It’s all down to him anyway,” she said. “He always says that magic is a part of me and that he—” she grew pinker and glanced at Regina out of the corner of her eye “—he loves every part of me.”

Regina did not sneer. Instead she flushed slightly herself and smiled a small smile, as if remembering.

Oisín nodded in satisfaction. “It’s as I hoped then.” He leaned back in his chair again, his expression soft and almost wistful. “I used to weep at the waste of that man,” he said. “You must never tell him that I told you this. I wept in mourning for the loss of what he could have been, for the good man so deeply buried beneath anger and vengeance that I feared he would never be seen in more than glimpses. That he would destroy himself without ever knowing who he truly was, or could be. Until you, Emma, gave him a reason to know it. You saved him.”

“He saved me too,” said Emma, thinking of how closed off she had been before she met Killian. How lonely. How lost. “We saved each other.”

“Yes,” Oisín agreed. “That was the first part of your story. A part I believe is now approaching its end. There are far more parts to come. Enjoy them all, together.”

He stood and waited as Emma and Regina followed suit, then held out his hand. When Emma took it as if to shake, he grasped hers between both of his and held it tightly.

“What will you do now?” Emma asked him. “I—I don’t think Killian and I will be coming back here. Once we break the curse... well, all my family is in Storybrooke and he really loves that bookstore. I’m pretty sure we’ll be staying there. Are you going to stay here?”

“No,” Oisín replied, “I’m no longer needed in this place. I shall return to my home, and my Niamh. But you know how to find me, should you ever have need of me again. Or simply wish to say hello.”

“We might actually do that,” said Emma, smiling. “Thank you.”

Oisín returned the smile, squeezing Emma’s hand. “It’s been an honour, Emma Swan, now Jones,” he said. “Give my regards to your husband and son. And to the rest of your family—” his eyes flitted to her belly, so briefly she nearly missed it. “—when they arrive.”

Belle left the bookstore an hour later with a new job and a bag full of books, most from Killian’s own personal collection.

“I’m working on diversifying the inventory,” he’d explained. “And your input on the best ways to do that would be greatly appreciated. At the moment we don’t stock very much light, entertaining reading material. However I believe I have one or two things of my own you would enjoy.” He piled book after book into one of the cloth bags printed with the Jolly Roger Books logo and handed it to Belle with a grin. “I look forward to hearing what you think of them.”

She felt happier than she could remember feeling, all but dancing along the sidewalk in her eagerness to get home and start reading, absolutely ecstatic at the prospect of quitting her job at the market and going every day to that beautiful shop full of books and light and Killian’s friendly smile and interesting conversation. Even the odd hints of regret that she could see lurking behind his eyes felt relatable, and though she’d only spent an hour in his company she felt almost like he was a friend already.

Books and a friend, thought Belle, with a flash of insight and a sudden clarity that swept away the apathy and confusion that had clouded her mind for as long as she could remember. She stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk as a feeling of revelation washed over her. That’s what had been missing in her life, the cause of the emptiness she constantly felt but never could quite manage to explain. All this time she’d thought something was broken in her, when really she’d just needed books. And a friend.

Henry met Archie outside the animal shelter late that afternoon. Archie smiled his familiar, warm smile but Henry could see he was nervous.

“Henry, I know I agreed to this but I’m not so sure it’s really—” he began.

“Just meet the dog,” Henry interrupted. “It won’t hurt to meet him.”

He pushed open the door and held it, looking back expectantly. “Come on,” he encouraged, and slowly Archie followed.

“Back again, Henry?” David smiled at them. “Yep! Mr Nolan, this is Archie,” said Henry. “He’s the one I told you about, who might adopt the new dog.” “Might,” emphasised Archie with a nervous smile.

“No problem,” said David. “We only allow adoptions when we think it’s a good match, for the animal and the human.” Archie nodded, and the tension in his shoulders relaxed. “Henry, why don’t you take him back to meet the dog?” David asked.

Henry had to force himself not to run. He hurried to Pongo’s cage where the dog seemed to be waiting, wagging his tail. “Here he is,” said Henry eagerly. “Isn’t he great?”

Archie approached the cage slowly, his eyes going wide behind his safety goggles. “He’s—he’s gorgeous,” he whispered.

“At the sound of Archie’s voice Pongo gave a small bark and his tail picked up speed, moving so fast it was a blur. He poked his nose through the bars of the cage and whined at Archie.

“Look!” cried Henry. “He likes you already.”

“Ohhh,” said Archie, moving towards the cage, hand extended. “Hello, boy.”

Pongo licked his hand, and when Archie knelt down, his face, covering it in sloppy, loving kisses. Archie laughed, his face lit up with joy.

“Well he certainly seems to have chosen you,” said David’s voice from behind them.

“He definitely has,” Henry agreed. “You’ve got to adopt him, Archie.”

“I don’t—I’m not—I can’t—” Archie looked helplessly at Pongo’s pleading eyes and sighed. “I will,” he said. He looked up at David. “If it’s okay—”

“Of course,” said David. “There’s some paperwork to do, but after seeing you together I’m more than happy to sign off on the adoption. Congratulations.”

Archie nodded, still looking a bit shell-shocked.

“I’ll go get everything prepared, you come to the front when you’re ready,” said David, He took out a key and unlocked Pongo’s cage. The minute the door opened, the dog leapt on Archie, squirming delightedly.

“What are you going to name him?” asked Henry.

“You know, I have no idea,” said Archie. “I never actually expected this to happen. Have you got any suggestions?”

“How about Pongo?” Henry suggested.

“Pongo,” Archie repeated, and the dog barked happily. Archie smiled. “Is your name Pongo?”

“Woof!” said Pongo.

“Well, that seems definitive.” Archie laughed. “Pongo it is, then.”

He stood, his hand still on Pongo’s head. “Thank you, Henry,” he said. “I had no idea I needed a dog, but I think...” he frowned and shook his head, blinking rapidly. “Somehow, I think he’s just what I was missing.”

“No problem,” said Henry, mentally ticking another name off his list. “I knew you guys would love each other.”

Emma poofed herself and Regina straight from Queens to Killian’s apartment. Transporting the both of them over such a distance and then back again had exhausted a great deal of her magic, and if she went to the station first she doubted she’d have enough left to poof from there to home. And as she and Killian were still cautious about being seen together in public, she didn’t want to walk to his place or drive. It wasn’t worth the risk of anyone observing her going into the bookstore after it was closed, or spotting her bug parked in front of it.

Henry and Killian were already there when the white smoke swirled up from the ground and they appeared. Emma went straight to her husband, knowing he would be worried about her, and allowed him to run his hands over her and look probingly into her eyes, assuring himself that she was okay in both mind and body. Regina gave a hug to Henry and a nod to Killian, then left to get ready for her date.

“Regina and Robin Hood,” said Emma, snuggling into Killian’s side and relaxing against him. “I still can’t quite believe it.”

“It’s so cool,” said Henry.

“Yeah, I guess it is.” Emma smiled, thinking about the new softness she’d witnessed in Regina that afternoon. “So how was your day, kid?”

“Good!” Henry’s face lit up. “I did so much! I found Pongo and got Archie to adopt him, and Dad’s gonna give Belle a job, and I invited my father for dinner.”

“Your fa—Neal? For dinner?” Henry nodded. “What, here?”

“Aye,” said Killian, running his hand soothingly up and down her arm. “It was Henry’s idea but I agreed. We thought it might be nice to include him in a family meal, even if he doesn’t know that’s what it is.”

“He’s really lonely, Mom,” Henry chimed in. “Everyone in town is, but him especially. I think the love he needs might have to come from us.”

“But… then why did we give him the pawn shop?”

“To get the pawn shop open again, mostly,” said Killian. “And to give us an excuse to meet him. But we didn’t really expect him to discover any love there. Remember, Swan, that Bae was abandoned by his mother and ran away from his father. He found a home briefly with the Darling children but that was taken from him, and I’m sad to say that during his time in Neverland he didn’t really become close to any of the Lost Boys. Henry thinks and I agree, that what Neal really needs, what perhaps he’s always needed, is a family.”

Emma nodded. “I can see that, I guess. But how are you going to explain me being here with you guys? Won’t he think that’s weird?”

“So we just don’t explain it,” said Henry. “The curse has kept him really isolated. I don’t think he knows you’re supposed to be married to Walsh. He doesn’t seem to know very much about what’s been going on in town, and almost nothing about his father.”

“Huh,” said Emma. “I guess that makes sense. It was the same with Regina. She was really isolated working for my parents.”

“Aye. Allow people to interact and you risk them forming attachments,” Killian agreed. “I imagine that any kind of genuine connection between people would have threatened the integrity of the curse.”

“Well, okay,” said Emma. “That sounds like a solid plan, and I’m on board. But I need a serious nap before I deal with Neal or anyone else. I’ve used so much magic today. When’s he supposed to get here?”

“Not for a few hours yet,” said Killian, kissing her hair. “Go have your nap, love. We’ll be sure to wake you in time.”

Henry watched as his parents cuddled for a moment then shared a soft kiss, watched his mom head off to their bedroom and watched his dad watching her go. He thought about his grandparents making doey eyes at each other that afternoon at Granny’s, and about Archie and Pongo’s joyful reunion. He thought about his mom so excited about her date with Robin, and about Belle discovering books and his father coming to have dinner with them. He smiled to himself. A day like this one was just about worth getting up early for.

@katie-dub @kmomof4 @teamhook @stahlop @mariakov81 @snowbellewells @thejollyroger-writer @jennjenn615@tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda @winterbaby89 @ultraluckycatnd @resident-of-storybrooke

#cs ff #cs ff au #cs fic #magic au #canon divergence #3b canon divergence #alternative 3b #captain swan #captain cobra swan #captain book #snowing #background outlaw queen #Storybrooke #cursed life #their way by moonlight #profdanglaisstuff

43 notes · View notes

alwaysrunningoutoftime · 5 years ago

Photo

(Pictures: 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 9)

Your Friendly Neighbourhood, Wizard. (Alex Russo/Justin Russo Fanfiction)

Prologue

Pairing: Superhero! Alex Russo x Justin Russo, Slowburn.

Genre: Action, Humour, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Romance

Warnings: mild/explicit language, Injuries, sisterxbrother.

Set: After Season 4x10 "Wizards Vs. Angels" (Which is somewhat heavily involved in both Alex and Justin’s separate storylines.) + “Back to Max”.

Est. Length: 8 Chapters.

Summary: After defeating the dark angels, Justin continues to teach his delinquent class unconsciously suppressing his guilt over the ramifications of the moral compass. Simultaneously, Alex unconventionally stumbles into a superhero gig. Inept and unprepared, great power and an even greater burden is placed on her shoulders. Bothered by his sisters reoccurring absence, Justin determinedly investigates her distant behaviour. Meanwhile, Alex is forced to face a truth she’d always buried, discovering it unwillingly from a formidable powerful being she will have to defeat.

Disclaimer/Author's Note: I’ve been brainstorming this fic probably since quarantine started. It’s mostly inspired by Spiderman! Into the Spiderverse, Holland! Spiderman and Garfield! Spiderman. As well as the looks and feel of DC Comic’s Raven and Marvel’s Scarlet Witch. Other inspirations include music from Birds of Prey, On My Block, Euphoria. All of which I do not own. In addition, I sadly do not own Wizards of Waverly Place.

However, Alex’s origin story is wholly my own that I personally thought up myself (so let’s hope it’s believable) and if it correlates with any other superhero storyline it’s purely coincidental. The OC’s are also obviously my own creation.

“Do you know why you’re here, Alex Russo?”

“Ummm…” Alex backed up at the man's intense stare. She was pretty sure he was going for intimidation, but it fell short landing right on uncomfortable. “Not really…”

“Well, young lady,” His words were layered thick with haughtiness. Alex had just met the man today and she already knew she disliked him. “It seems you were part of a riot in central park.”

“No…” She narrowed her eyes at him, shook her head, even elongated the word in an attempt to get it through his thick skull. “I was trying to get home.”

She was actually trying to find her wand, but he didn’t need to know that. The wand that Rosie and Gorog decided to fling off the dark realm tower. The detailed image of it glowing magic in the night sky as it twirled to its doom stayed seared to the front of her mind. She could even hear her own cry for it as everyone watched it go. My wand.

“So what were you doing in Central Park?” Right after returning the moral compass she searched Central Park assuming it had landed there. Key word: assuming. It was hard to calculate where objects falling off towers landed. For her, it was hard to calculate in general.

“A girl can’t go to one of New York City's finest parks just for the fuc- fun of it.” She replied with a smile, catching herself before she swore. It was just her luck to get the arrogant, novice, goody-two-shoes, by-the-book cop. They didn’t enjoy it when she did that.

“And you just happened to be hanging out with an enraged mob?” He asked mockingly. Okay so...she did get mixed up in a riot. Which wasn’t her fault. She was too focused at the task at hand to pay any attention to the crowd of screaming people she had walked through. What was more concerning was that one of those fuckers was stepping all over her wand, or worse one of them had already snapped its cherry redness in two.

“I wasn’t hanging out with them-”

“Yeah, instead you were disturbing the peace and provoking assaults.” Alex had to stay low to the ground for any sign of her wand which perhaps caused a few people to accidentally trip over her. There was also a minor possibility that her assertive bumping into others unintentionally started some fights. This all lead to Richard here (according to his desk tag), cuffing her and bringing her to the NYPD Central Park precinct. Meaning her wand had been left behind, defenceless against the grimy boots of crabby New Yorkers...if it was even there to begin with.

“How do you disturb the peace in a riot?” Alex fired back.

“Ms. Russo, you’ve had a record since you were twelve.” He said, abruptly switching topics and ignoring her. Rude much. To prove his point he made a show of flailing her folder around. It was a decent size for her age, Alex inwardly complimented herself. The first crime listed there was in summer 2004, when she sold those fake broadway tickets to unsuspecting tourists. That summer was a blast: hundreds of ice cream sandwiches and magazines.

“This behaviour is to be expected.” He finished. Alex suppressed an eye roll, this dude was getting on her nerves. Yes, she had a few run ins with the cops, but that didn’t mean she was always guilty of doing something vaguely illegal. Ever since she became a wizard, she'd barely caused any trouble with the mortals, Alex commended herself. Her last record was a good year ago, with a little vandalism and conning going under the radar but that was it. In their eyes, she could have set herself straight since then. Which she did.

What happened to the benefit of the doubt, what happened to believing people could change. Screw him and his patterns. And screw her wand for not being in Central Park. Now she’d have to buy a new one she sulked, slouching lower in the hard chair.

“I don’t like your attitude, Missy.” He said, noting her behaviour. ”Kids these days, not respecting the police.”

Oh my gosh, I just wanna go home. Richard Owens (what a lame name) continued typing at his computer, probably adding ‘riot starter’ to her record. He’d been holding her here for an hour now, still trying to gather evidence and witness accounts to file in her record. So far he had zero, zip, nada, not a single thing. Since everyone's memory seemed to be fuzzy, which she guessed was due to the moral compass.

Alex was annoyed at him and his cockiness. Annoyed at this hard chair that was making her butt fall asleep. Annoyed at the amount of people in this room, and how overly hot it. Would it kill them to crack open a window or turn up the air conditioning.

“Is that you, Alex Russo?” A woman said, approaching the desk. Oh finally her saviour.

“Wassup, June!” Alex grinned up at Song Namjoo, or June, as Alex called her. Much to Namjoo's displeasure. Not so much the name as it was Alex being an annoying little shit.

“What’d you do now?” She asked, placing a hand behind Alex’s chair, leaning forward to scan over the computer. The woman had her hair pulled down into its signature low bun, not a hair out of place. Her pristine police sergeant uniform was pressed to perfection with not a single crease, something Justin would greatly admire.

“No way, June you passed your Police Sergeant Exam!” Alex exclaimed. “You look dope.” She nodded in approval.

“Yeah.” June modeled for a second, before straightening her posture. “Passed about six months ago.”

“Well congratulations.” Alex smiled, genuinely proud. June was her life saver, and lowkey pain in her ass. Wherever she caused a ruckus (exclusively non magical) June would shortly be there. June had stopped a lot of unwanted things from going on her record, and also had a way of calming down Jerry and Theresa when they threatened to send her to the military. On the other hand, it's like she had some sort of Alex specific third eyes always managing to catch her in the act. Plus, her lectures were lengthy and boring and she didn't even allow Alex the option to sleep through them. In a way, she was Justin, if he were in the police force and was, you know, a Korean woman.

She shivered at the thought. Sure, Justin saved her a few too many times but that was because he was her brother. June was altruistic, she held herself with poise and grace. Like a cool aunt who'd let you off the hook halfway then let you decide for yourself the rest of the way. Besides, June was high-key a badass and Justin still cried over 'Mantooth'.

She felt a light pinch on her arm, automatically ready to shout 'POLICE BRUTALITY!' catching herself as she connected eyes with June.

June subtly raised an eyebrow in question towards Alex as if to say ‘What did you do now?’ Alex shrugged in response, her face saying ‘I’m innocent I swear’. June in turn gave her a half believing/ half disbelieving expression, before rolling her eyes. Which was always code for ‘Fine, I believe you’. After knowing June for a good 5 years they'd learned to read each others facial expressions pretty well. It helped with her record, it definitely helped with the parents.

“Okay really Richard a riot starter.” June stared at the man with clear judgement on her face. “Leave the girl alone. We have bigger things to worry about then a riot starter.”

“Oh, like what, June?” Richard goaded. First he disrespects Alex, and now June. Alex doesn’t know a lot of things she will admit, but she picked up on workplace professionalism. To begin with June was a higher ranking officer meaning she was above him. And Richard said her name without its formal title, displaying a lack of respect. Alex watched as June’s expression turned perplexed, or more accurately her ‘bitch, what did you just say?’ look. Alex wished she had popcorn now and a comfy chair.

“First of all, that is Sergeant Song to you Richard. Secondly, maybe you’ve been on desk duty for too long but we’re dealing with a lot more than riots.” June started. This was gonna be good. “There have been innumerable cases of aggravated assaults, burglaries, thefts, property crimes, arsons, and attempted murders. The crime rate has exponentially increased on this day alone. It’s worst than the 80s, Richard.” As the venom dripped from June’s mouth, Alex was quickly realizing what truly happened this night. “Every precinct in New York is packed to the brim and every hospital too. There are more citizens than staff members. And to top it off, a lot of these people had no previous record before this night. No explanation why they would do this and barely any remembrance of what they did. Not even a full moon could explain this utter fuckery!” She exclaimed, motioning around the precinct.

Alex cringed, knowing exactly what had caused this, or more accurately who. She didn’t realize how serious turning that moral compass was. It had only felt like a game of tug a war with her brother like what they did as kids. She even played around with him, tricking him into thinking he had broken the thing so she’d gain the upper hand. When they were flying above the dark realm tower, pulling and pushing they felt so far removed from the world. It was literal child’s play, no throwing punches, no broken bones just like a high school grip test.

But, she could see the damage they caused now. The place was overfilled with people. At each desk, in the cells, standing around. Some bleeding out, others with lost expressions on their faces, the ones she couldn’t even look at were the people crying. All these people had done something bad or suffered because of it. All because that moral compass pointed in the wrong direction a little too long.

“And out of everyone in that riot you chose the person farthest from the action, a clear bystander.” Alex wanted to laugh bitterly at that, if only these people knew just how involved she really was in this. If only they knew their desire to do good relied on a floppy arrow on a disk. But, she’d never tell them this, she’d let people continue to believe they had a bigger choice in their lives. That’s what she had to do as a wizard. As long as it saved her ass. As long as it didn’t affect her.

“So yes Richard there are bigger things than a 17 year old girl.” June finished. The room was completely silent, all eyes staring at Richard. It was so quiet Alex could hear the sound of Richard’s ego deflating like a balloon, saw his face turning as red as a tomato until he resembled a sheepish boy who had just been scolded by his mom in front of all his friends. She couldn’t even take pleasure in his pain, now faced with her own mistakes.

Ha, take that dick. She tried to lighten her spirits. Cause like dick is the nickname for Richard. It didn’t work that well.

And…

Richard let her go, with no new record of ‘inciting a riot’, all thanks to June and how she completely dragged him through the mud.

June walked her to the front door of the precinct, stopping at the door.

“Okay bye Alex. I wish I didn’t have to say this…” June said, taking a deep breathe and closing her eyes to ground herself. “See you soon.” She gave a fake smile.

“You know me so well June. I’ll be sure to bring my best stuff next time, though.” Alex replied back keeping her humour up. She was still a little unsettled at the amount of people she saw on her way out.

“Aha.” June laughed drily, clearly not amused. “Stay in school, kid." And then she was pushed out of the building.

Just as Alex took her first steps away from the precinct, "Hey! The streets are worse tonight, stay safe Alex.” June shouted before shutting the door.

Alex looked back, a sigh heavy on her lips. She composed herself, her mood quickly lightening at the prospect of going home. Which meant her bed, which meant lying down, which meant sleep.

She wouldn’t walk of course. Use magic, definitely. If someone thought she was gonna walk home, they were sadly mistaken.

Looking around to see if anyone was watching she backed into the nearest alley.

“Woah, watch out kid!-”

She was pushed with brute force into the alley wall. Are you kidding me? She smacked right into the bricks, her elbows preventing her face from getting smashed. Hadn’t she been jostled enough today. She stiffened as she felt a bolt of magic graze past her, causing the hairs on her arms to stand up.

Wait a minute… Magic? There was a wizard.

She turned around to see a woman in a Kevlar black suit push a man further into the alleyway. The woman threw a punch to the man’s face, a crackle of blue magic extended through her fist causing the man to crash into the wall.

“What the fuck.” Alex whispered. She must have actually hit her head because this couldn’t be real.

The woman turned to Alex, her dark blue boxer braids swinging with the movement. A mask covered half her face, but all Alex could see were her eyes glowing blue in the dark, as if rimmed with the magic. “Leave, now-“

“Watch out!” Alex screamed back, seeing the man getting up already. A bright pulse of white magic extended through his fingertips towards the masked woman, who quickly ducked dodging it, giving a swift kick to the man's stomach.

He was thrown off balance, long enough for the woman to turn to Alex shooting a burst of blue magic into her direction.

Alex brought her hand in front of her as if to stop it. Was this woman trying to kill her? She closed her eyes, ready for impact.

Then opened them to silence and a vast space of whiteness. She was in the wizard portal. The masked lady had teleported her here.

So, the blue magic lady was a wizard and a superhero…and people were still being bad even after the moral compass was returned.

Alex thought about it for a moment. Then with a shrug of her shoulders she brushed it off, beginning to walk to the lair.

Frankly, Alex was exhausted: her back hurt from flapping those wings, her knees were sore from all of the heavy landings she endured with the wings, her arms ached from that tug-a-war contest she had with Justin, her butt was sore from that hard chair, her feet ached from all the walking she did and she nearly got zapped in the face with magic. On top of all of that, she still didn’t know where her wand went.

Alex sighed in relief when she finally got to the lair. All that walking was making her even more tired. She pushed the door open, determined to get to bed and collapse. But her steps faltered when she was greeted by the sight of her brother looking down at a white feather.

It didn’t take a genius to realize the feather was Rosie’s. Alex was worried at the sight of him, grasping a feather from another lost love wasn’t a good sign. And more than that he hadn’t been himself for the past week. She’d barely talked to him for the past week, so she was nervous to see how he was after everything.

“Justin…” She began, confusion laced in her tone. He turned at her voice.“What are you doing still up? It’s late.” And also past his appointed bedtime.

“I stayed up because I owe you something.” He began. Her cherry red wand in his hand. Her glorious cherry red wand she’d been looking everywhere for. Finally, reunited with what had been plaguing her mind all night her eyes immediately brightened at the sight of it. She grasped at it with both hand, smiling down at her wand.

“I found it in Washington Square Park.” Oh, Washington Square Park. Damn she really did suck at calculating. Nevermind, the fact that it was in the complete opposite direction. “A two-headed dog had it. Pretty sure he didn’t start out that way.”

So her wand was chilling in lower Manhattan with a two headed dog as she searched the grounds of upper Manhattan, tripping people over and starting fights, and getting caught by the police. She giggled at that, amused with what her night turned into.

“Thank you.” She genuinely meant it. “What about your wand?”

“I, uh…” He held his wand up, inspecting it for a moment just to show her the sad state it was in; snapped in half with duct tape barely holding it together. She laughed at her brother’s antics. Secretly, relieved to have her brother back. Him and even his humour. Yup, he was still Justin. “I’ll find a spell to fix it.”

He set his wand down and turned to face her, an earnest expression on his face. Alex was taken aback by the swift change in atmosphere, the room suddenly feeling more serious. “And I owe you something else.”

He came forward. Her eyes flickering at his movement. Oh, And we’re hugging.

His arms wrapped around her, bending down to rest his chin on her shoulder. He quietly uttered, “Thank you for saving me.” while comfortingly rubbing her back as he always did. Ever since they were children, it was a soothing motion he always did when he hugged her. A distinct movement they could focus on together to calm down. She nodded slightly, silently appreciating the moment.

“It’s for all the times that you saved me when I wasn’t so good.”

Countless images were brought to mind, most prominent of all: a campfire in the rainforest. She began to feel nostalgic and a bit anxious. Not fond of the emotions, she quickly lightened the atmosphere. “And for a couple more times in the future, so we’re even.” She finished with a smile, satisfied with her little joke.

“No, we’re not.” Justin replied, coming to sit down on the desk beside her. “You saved the world today.”

She studied him for a moment, silently disagreeing with his words. She was only trying to get him back, everything else, saving the world was secondary to that.

She’d never admit how anxious she felt seeing Justin so unlike himself: stealing flowers, using magic in public, and stomping on people's groceries. Overall being a jerk. The worst of it was when she revealed Rosie's true nature, he still chose her, a girl he’d known for less than a month than his own sister. A dark angel, whose values would never align with his own. And when she tried one last desperate time to get him back he still chose darkness. Only turning good because of that girl. It hurt more than she thought it would.

But Alex had to remind herself of something very important: that Justin was the one influenced by dark angels. That he wasn’t himself at the time and that scarily some powers are greater than her connection to her brother. So she’d keep it to herself, shove it in the back of her mind like she usually did with all of her emotions, and ignore it, until she’d be forced to confront it.

Instead, she focused on the reassurance she’d gotten when Justin finally came back. How happy she was when he immediately told her to put the moral compass back, in that commanding voice he used when he would clean her messes. The ease she felt now that he was once again right beside her. Like a puzzle piece clicking back into place (and screw him for making her think of boring puzzles). This is where he was meant to be.

She would never say that out loud so she said, “You gave up a girl to protect it” instead.

She watched a faraway expression take on his face, familiar to the one he wore in Transylvania when he lost Juliet. He’d lost Rosie now, and a few weeks ago she'd learned she wasn't meant to be with Mason. It’s like they were both cursed to never have a happy ending. Only ending up with the comfort of each other.

She didn’t think about how established this felt. Or the strange notion that perhaps this was how her happy ending was supposed to be.

In an attempt to stop herself from wandering too far back in her mind, she asked him. “Why do we have to keep dealing with stuff like this?” He was Justin and he always had the answer. She could always count on him.

“We’re wizards.” And it was like that was the be all, end all. “I don’t think we have a choice.” The plain and simple answer.

It was horrible how that answer alone made complete sense to her. How she’d just thought about it in that overpacked precinct. All of her mistakes and losses were always tied into being a wizard.

So, maybe she was past the point of caring, past sadness and moving into delirium with a little sprinkle dead tiredness because she smiled instead. She smiled up at him and he caught her before she turned away. He bumped her with his shoulder, bouncing her away and back to him.

They were settling back into their pattern. Just the two of them: Justin and Alex. She sighed contentedly and a little tiredly resting her head on her big brother's shoulder, feeling his head rest on hers.

For all her mistakes and all her losses at least she always had her Justin.

And she hoped he knew for all his mistakes and all his losses he’d always have his Alex.

She closed her eyes, fully ready to sleep.

“We’ll be okay, right?” Justin quietly asked.

Alex yawned, furrowing her brows slightly at the unexpected question. Maybe they should have been more aware in this moment, appreciated it more. Maybe she could have helped him better if she’d paid more attention. Maybe, he could have protected her better from darker things than angels.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine.”

For Alex would soon face a burden so great it would compromise her relationship with those around her. After all, with great power comes great responsibility.

#Wizards of Waverly Place #wowp #Alex Russo #Justin Russo #Jalex #Fanfiction #Alex Russo x Justin Russo #Justin Russo x Alex Russo #Alex x Justin #Justin x Alex #mystories #wizards of waverly place fanfiction #wowp fanfiction #myfanfiction

13 notes · View notes

nothinggold13 · 5 years ago

Text

Beautiful vs Beloved: An Essay on Lucy Pevensie

Okay, folks, today I'm going to talk about Lucy in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, because this is another one of those topics that keeps coming up in posts that have evidently missed the point.

Whether you’re more involved with the book or the movie, one of Lucy’s most prominent struggles in this story is wishing she was more beautiful. In the movie this point is pushed harder, as from the very beginning we see her mimicking another girl & studying her own reflection in the mirror. In the book, this is more subtle until the actual scene with the Magician’s book, but we do read in the first chapter that Susan is considered “the pretty one of the family,” and we can consider that as part of the lead up to that later scene.

Because of this struggle, I sometimes see posts like, “Why would Lucy wonder if she’s going to be pretty when she grows up, when she already saw herself grown up in the Golden Age?” or “Why does she care so much about being pretty when she’s already so awesome?” Well, I’m here to answer those questions.

The fact of the matter is that this struggle is actually not as simple as it appears, but the really cool thing is that we actually get to witness Lucy’s growth in two different ways because of this. Let’s start with the root of Lucy’s struggle:

First of all, haven’t most of us struggled with our self-esteem? I’ll be the first to admit that I have been there, and I have definitely thought I wasn’t pretty enough. And the weird thing is I’ve been working hard at maintaining my self-esteem, and most days it’s pretty good. There are times I love the way I look - and yet, I can still hit those days where I think, “Why do I look like this?” and “I wish I looked like her,” and “If I was prettier, maybe he would’ve liked me back.” Self-esteem is not that simple to conquer. I can love myself one day, and hate myself the next, and it is not at all unrealistic for our Valiant, beloved Queen Lucy to feel like she’s not good enough in one way or another. Especially when her sister is considered “the pretty one,” which is something that would weigh on a young girl heavily.

However, as much as I think that bothers Lucy, the root of her problem is something else entirely. Like I said a moment ago; Lucy was the “valiant, beloved queen.” Why isn’t it good enough for a 10-year-old Lucy (or 15, if we’re going by the movie,) to know exactly what she’ll look like when she’s older? Because her appearance isn’t what was important in Narnia, and England doesn’t see her the same way. In Narnia she was a queen. They called her The Valiant, and they loved her, and they saw her. Princes were vying for her affections, because as a Queen her virtues and beauty were easily noticed. Life was different, and she was different, and the world was different, and what made her so special in Narnia was no longer clear in England.

This is one of the few ways we actually see Lucy struggle with adapting to life in England. Her desire to be beautiful doesn’t stem from simply not thinking herself pretty, but rather, wanting to be more liked; more admired; more desired; more wanted; more beloved. In the movie this is shown in a more romantic sense, as we see her practicing flirting, while in the book it’s more general, (although there is still mention of being romantically pursued, though I’ll talk about that more later.) People don’t flock to her in England like they did in Narnia. Though I could be wrong, I think many of us share that image of the golden Queen Lucy; bright and friendly and loved by all her people. And don’t get me wrong, I think Lucy made friends easily enough in England, too. But she didn’t attract people as easily or immediately as she did in Narnia. In England, she was very much an ordinary little girl.

As such, I believe Lucy’s actual struggle in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader is not that she wants to be pretty, but that she wants to be beloved once again, and in her eyes the most obvious way to do that would be to be beautiful enough to be noticed.

There are some differences between the movie adaptation and the original book version of the scene “The Magician’s Book.” Specifically, in the movie Lucy wishes to be beautiful “like Susan,” and as such, the spell grants her that desire by making her literally Susan. However in the book the spell Lucy comes across is not one to make her “the beauty [she’s] always wanted to be,” but rather, “to make [her] beautiful [...] beyond the lot of mortals.” The images, in turn, don’t make her look like Susan, but rather make her more beautiful than Susan - so beautiful that the “beauty of the family” looks plain in comparison.

It is also in this scene where the romantic angle of book!Lucy is shown. While Lucy is 10 at the time, I think it may be possible that the image she sees inside the book is of herself but older, at least in the scenes set in Narnia, as she is “throned on high at a great tournament” as “all the Kings of the world [...] fought for her favour.” I’m not certain why 10-year-old Lucy would be so interested in Kings fighting for her hand, but if what she sees in those moments is herself grown up again, then perhaps it’s because she is remembering how it felt to be an adult who was pursued, but never as strongly as her sister. (This may seem foolish of her, and indeed it would be. And to be fair, I’m only guessing at this bit. But despite everything, I know I have also had low-self-esteem days where negative attention sounded better than no attention whatsoever. A Lucy who is feeling down on herself and unwanted might very well be attracted to a scenario where she is fought for so desperately.) However, it is also in this scene where we see that it is not only romantic affection Lucy craves. Upon moving on from that spell, she comes to one which will let her know what her friends really think of her. And unlike the first spell, she actually says this one.

Lucy wants, or even craves positive attention & affection. All she wants is to be as loved as she was in Narnia, but she is so odd in England and even her own friends seemingly turn against her. But she thinks if only she could be more, she might be noticed again. If she were more beautiful, maybe they’d all want to be her friend. If she were more beautiful, maybe boys would notice her again. If she were more beautiful, maybe the adults would respect her more. If she were more beautiful...

It’s interesting to note that the very next thing that happens in this scene is that she reads the spell “for the refreshment of the spirit.” After that, Lucy finds the spell to make hidden things visible, and Aslan appears. In this moment the narrator says, “then her face lit up till, for a moment [...] she looked almost as beautiful as the other Lucy in the picture.” While he never speaks to her about being tempted by the beauty spell, he does mention the eavesdropping, and informs her that she has misjudged her friend, and that she truly loves Lucy. These three things begin the cure. First she is given refreshment from her anger and bitterness. Second she meets Aslan, and in that moment, though she doesn’t know it, she is as beautiful as she wanted to be. And third she is given assurance that she is not unwanted or unloved in England, even though she often feels it.

Now I’ll move on to the evidence of this growth.

The first piece of evidence is in regards to the beauty side of Lucy’s struggle. Remember that the spell Lucy wants to say, the one she’s so tempted by, would have made her beautiful “beyond the lot of mortals.” Then later in the same book, the characters meet a lady which may very well fit that description already. When they first see Ramandu’s Daughter (or Lilliandil, if we go by the film,) she is described as being so beautiful that “when they looked at her they thought they had never before known what beauty meant.” But Lucy - who has been in Susan’s shadow the entire story, even while Susan was not there - and who has been clinging to some ideal of beauty she can never be - and who just wants to be beautiful, and wanted, and loved again - does not meet this girl with envy. Lilliandil is everything Lucy has wanted to be; beautiful and respected and desired. But Lucy is not bothered. She doesn’t envy this girl. After everything, Lucy is no longer thinking about that at all. And that’s beautiful.

The second piece of evidence of her growth goes back to the root of the problem. My interpretation of Lucy’s struggle stated that the reason she wanted to be beautiful is because she wanted to be as loved as she was in Narnia. This shows that she holds on quite tightly to her identity in Narnia. She loves Narnia, and she loves being Queen Lucy, and for a long time we believe that that’s what she wants most. Indeed, she has made that her identity. But finally, at the end of the book, we see her place her identity back where it truly belongs: in Aslan. “It isn’t Narnia, you know. It’s you,” she sobs. In the final chapter, Lucy is no longer clinging to the life she once had and the person she once was. She’s clinging to Aslan. And now, for the first time, she is ready and able to take the lessons she learned in Narnia and apply them to her life in England. The Valiant Queen will always be a part of her, but she is no longer fighting to be her; she’s building Lucy Pevensie, now. And what Lucy Pevensie needs most - in fact, the only thing she truly needs - is Aslan.

I’m not very good at summaries, but if you’re hoping for a tl;dr, I’ll say this: Lucy’s problem isn’t rooted in beauty, its rooted in her desire to be beloved once again. And the good news is she learns from it, and grows because of it, and is able to find who she is truly meant to be. Also I love Lucy and I’m so proud of her. And finally, I never put this much thought into this before today, but it has sparked a deeper love for The Voyage of the Dawn Treader within me, and I think Lucy’s journey is deeply underrated.

#lucy pevensie #the voyage of the dawn treader #narnia #the chronicles of narnia

119 notes · View notes