#this is a week after hope's birthday/first appearance but unfortunately with exams and moving home i couldn't get it done on time

[sprnklersplashes]

Forever Young

AO3

On May 18th, Storybrooke gathers together to celebrate one of the most important days-Hope Swan-Jones' birthday.

Normally, like every other teenager on the planet, Hope hates mornings. She definitely takes after her mother in that regard, pulling the blanket over her head and groaning after snoozing the alarm once, twice, three times. Gideon had taken the liberty of moving it across her bedroom so that she’d have to actually get out of her bed to turn it off, but he apparently forgot she has magic and can snooze it with a flick of her wrist.

Today though, well, it’s not really an exception. It’s different, meaning she only snoozes it once before getting up. After all, today’s special, as shown on the screen of her phone and the date on her calendar, circled in green marker.

Saturday, May 18th. Her birthday.

She flings the covers off and rolls out of bed. The first thing she does is run over to the full length mirror in the corner of her room. She turns around, examining herself from every angle. Her red waves are wild and seemingly untameable, just like they always are in the mornings, and she’s still small and slightly pale (unfortunately, her hair colour comes with snow white skin-and it suits her grandmother far far more than it does her), same scattering of freckles and green eyes that everyone says are a double of her mother’s. It’s the exact same face and body she had when she was 14.

She’s not sure why she’s disappointed. Logically, she should know that nothing would have changed overnight. She knows for sure what she’d have liked to have happened; for her to grow at least an extra inch and for her hair to be more manageable and for the apple cheeks that made her look 12 to finally disappear. For her to look older, she supposes.

She hears her family getting ready downstairs, the bathroom door opening and closing outside, and shrugs it off. Maybe her magical teenage growth spurt will come later (and in this town, you never know). For now it was time to get on with her day. After all, you only turn 15 once.

After throwing on her uniform, running a brush through her hair and pulling it into a braid, she opens her door to head downstairs, only to find Gideon coming out of his room at the exact same time. And all at once, she feels her body ready to leap into action. Like she’s a lion and he is a limping gazelle.

“Gideon!” she shouts, her voice squeaking, and throws herself at him until he hits the wall with an audible thump. She presses her chin to his chest and looks up at him, laughing as he adjusts his glasses. “Know what day it is?”

“The day I finally see Doctor Whale about the injuries you’re definitely causing to my spine?” he groans, but he’s laughing too.

“Nope,” she replies, shaking her head, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. “It’s my birthday!”

“Oh, is it?” he asks. She lets him go, but the bouncing doesn’t stop, like something is running and fizzing through her veins. Actually something might well be; her magic isn’t always under control, especially if she’s feeling strong emotions. “I forgot. And I have this thing on today.”

“No you do not,” she tells him, poking his chest.

“No, I don’t,” he agrees, slinging an arm around her shoulders. They walk down to the kitchen together, where her parents and Belle are already present. Among the usual sounds of the radio playing old pop songs her mom loves, plates being moved around and the fridge opening and closing, Hope hears the unmistakable around of batter sizzling in a frying pan, and she shares a grin with Gideon.

“Race you!” she says, pushing him and taking the stairs two at a time even though he keeps walking, having never actually agreed to race.

She throws herself into the kitchen with all the grace of an excited puppy whose owners just came home, flinging her hair dramatically over her shoulders for good measure. At the stove, her dad grins, eyes still on the pancakes, but his shoulders shake from laughing. She looks around expectantly, briefly wondering where her mom is, eyeing the two adults in the room hopefully.

“Morning, Hope,” Aunt Belle greets, pulling her into a light hug. “And happy birthday, love.”

“Thanks Aunt Belle,” she replies. She runs over to the cupboard, grabs a plate and heads to the stove. Her dad looks at her out of the corner of his eye as she scans the pancake ingredients around the stove. Jug of batter, blueberries, raspberries, syrup-

“Where’s the chocolate chips?” she asks. “I can’t have pancakes without chocolate chips.”

“Well, theoretically you could,” he says, but a pout from her silences him. “But your mum’s off to get them-” His voice trails off as he hears a car door close outside, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile. “And it seems she’s just in time.”

Her mom comes in, discarding her red leather jacket, holding not one, but two bags of chocolate chips in her hand. Her face lights up when she sees Hope, standing expectantly with her plate next to the stove.

“You, miss, are very lucky the grocery store is open in the mornings,” she tells her, hitting her head gently with the bags. “And that no one was around to ask me why I was buying chocolate chips at this hour.”

“Thank you, Mom,” she replies, smiling at her, batting her eyelashes for the full effect. Her mom laughs and places a kiss on the top of her head.

“Happy birthday, kid,” she says, a smile on her face to match Hope’s. She hands Hope the bag of chocolate chips and her dad steps back to allow her to pour them onto the two waiting pancakes. She drops more than generous handfuls onto them, chuckling as her dad winces slightly.

“I have to turn them over, love,” he reminds her when she begins getting a little adventurous.

“Wow Hope,” Gideon says dryly from the doorway. “Want some pancake with your chocolate chips?” She sticks her tongue out at him, waggling it for good effect.

“Hey,” her mom reminds her. “Manners.” But Gideon’s smile shows he’s in no way offended. Especially since he scrunches up his own face when all three adults have their backs turned.

After finishing off their pancakes-chocolate chip for Hope and blueberry for Gideon-and brushing their teeth, the loud, fast knock at their door can only belong to one person. Right on time, slightly unusual for him. Her uncle usually can’t keep track of time if his life depended on it. But when they open the door, sure enough, Lucas is standing on the doorstep, hands behind his back.

“Hey,” he says breathlessly, looking at Gideon rather than Hope, his cheeks pink and eyes shining. Hope rolls her eyes. They’ve been officially “a couple” for two months, but she still has to deal with this sappy mess every morning.

“Hi,” Gideon replies, smiling softly.

“Hey,” Hope says, breaking the unspoken communication between them. Admittedly, it was kind of weirdly sweet to watch her brother and uncle make doey eyes at each other. She guesses that’s what it feels like at that point. Not that she’d know.

“Hey birthday girl,” Lucas greets. He takes his arm out from behind him, holding out a small pink gift bag. Hope’s mouth falls open and she lets out a laugh. “Consider this a sneak preview of what’s coming tonight.”

“Oh my gosh, Lucas,” she says, taking the bag gently. “You know you didn’t need to do this.”

“Of course I did, you’re my favourite niece,” he says. “Go on, open it. It’s more than a cute bag.” She shares a grin with him and opens it, pulling away the white tissue inside to get to the real present; a small wooden fairy door, painted dark blue and covered in gold glitter, Hope’s name written in silver cursive writing on a white wooden plaque above it.

“Lucas,” she says, unsure of what to say. “It’s gorgeous!”

“Thanks,” he replies, blushing slightly. “I mean it’s nothing really.” Hope knows he’s lying, seeing his ‘tell’-a lack of eye contact and hands in his pockets. This isn’t nothing.

“It’s awesome, Luke,” she says.

“What’s awesome?” her mom asks from behind her. “Being on time for school is awesome, you know.”

“Mom, look what Lucas got me,” she says. When she sees it, her mom’s face lights up, looking from the door to her brother.

“That’s pretty great, Lucas,” she tells him, making him look at the ground, swinging his and Gideon’s intertwined hands. “Why don’t I put this in your room for you. That way you guys can get to school on time.”

They nod and bid Emma goodbye before heading off to school, Lucas and Gideon still holding hands.

“So Hope, how does it feel being 15?” Lucas asks.

“Weirdly, I don’t feel different,” she confesses. “Should I?”

“Nah,” he replies, waving his free hand. “You won’t feel the crushing weight of your own morality until you’re 16.” Gideon digs his boyfriend in the ribs, laughing.

“And then when you’re 17 it’s an existential crisis, according to Alex,” Gideon says. “It’s not too bad, kid.”

Hope nods, thinking about the year she’d had. Being born in May meant she had watched all her friends turning 15 before her. She had viewed turning 15 as a right of passage, moving away from your awkward preteen years and into a fully fledged teenager, the next step towards adulthood. But now, especially in her school uniform with the skirt reaching to her knees (while her grandmother was quite relaxed about it, Mrs Hubbard, their vice principal, was adamant that the skirts be regulation length) and pink hair tie, she still feels like a kid. She touches the edge of her hair tie gently. She hadn’t thought much when she put it on that morning, not even noticing the colour, but now she regrets it painfully.

Letting her arm dangle by her side, she waves her wrist gently and smiles as the hair tie changes from pink to black.

“Morning, people!” a voice calls just before they reach the school. All three turn their heads to see a slightly out of breath Philip jogging towards them. He pushes his too-long black hair out of his eyes and gives them a welcoming smile.

“Hey, Phil,” Lucas greets, bumping his fist against his. Hope wrinkles her nose. She supposes she’ll never get teenage boys.

“Happy birthday, Hope,” he says. “My parents are going to your thing tonight so your pres-” He cuts himself off, wincing.

“You weren’t meant to tell me that, were you?” she asks, giggling.

“No I was not,” he confirms with a grimace. Sometimes they had joked that Philip and Lucas must have been switched as babies, given they were only born two days apart, since Philip can’t keep a secret. The four of them laugh it off, crossing the courtyard under the May sunshine and into the school.

Inside, Hope stands at her locker, putting books in and out, while stopping to thank people who wished her a happy birthday. As the Saviour’s daughter and Snow White’s granddaughter, she was as close to a celebrity as she could be in Storybrooke; and everyone knew when her birthday was. Most of her classmates had either attended her naming ceremony as babies or their mothers had been pregnant with them at the time. There’s a photo in the living room on the day of her naming ceremony of her in her mom’s arms, Gideon in Belle’s, Lucas in Snow’s, Robin in Zelena’s and a lot of other babies with their moms. And with fame came frankly, more attention than she’s comfortable with. Especially since for a lot of those kids barely spoke to her outside of her birthday.

“Heyo,” someone says from behind her, followed by a word not appropriate for school. She knows who it is before she turns around. Robin Mills leans against one of the lockers, presenting her with a huge candy bar and a card in a pale blue envelope.

“Robin!” she squeaks. “Thank you.” She slides the chocolate into her bag and opens up the card, which displays a picture of a bowl of peas with the phrase ‘Ha-pea Birthday’ written in black block lettering. She looks up at Robin. “Did you pick this?”

“Hey, me and Alex spent a long time in that card shop!” she insists. Sure enough, when Hope opens the card, it reads; ‘To Hope, Happy 15th girl. Go crazy. From, Robin and Alex.’ “Unfortunately she had cheer practice this morning. But she wants me to convey the birthday wishes. So you know…” She waves her arms around awkwardly. “Wishes conveyed.”

“Thank you, Robin,” she says sincerely.

“Of course,” she says. She opens her mouth as if to ask something, but suddenly looks over Hope’s shoulder, her tongue darting out to the corner of her mouth. Hope can’t even ask before she hears another, unmistakable voice behind her.

“Hey Hope!” She jumps and turns around to see Melody Fisher, Ariel’s daughter, just behind her. Today she’s tying her hair back with a lilac ribbon, in a low ponytail, and wearing tiny silver dolphin earrings. And smiling. She’s always smiling, and it sends Hope’s heart into overdrive.

“Hi Melody,” she says in an attempt to be casual.

“Hi,” she says again. “Um, happy birthday.”

“Oh, thanks,” she replies, rubbing the back of her neck. “Yeah I’m not trying to make a big deal out of it…”

“Oh,” Melody replies, her face falling slightly. “Well, I hope it’s not too much, but I got you this.” She holds out a box wrapped in blue paper. “Just a little something, it’s really not that great.”

“Thanks,” she says, taking it from her after a brief hesitation. “Thanks so much, you really didn’t have to do that.” She unwraps it, her fingers seemingly forgetting to work. She feels her face get warm and hopes she isn’t blushing. When she gets the paper off, she finds it to be a box of colouring pencils. Hope lifts the lid and runs her finger down them; they’re strong and sturdy, and she can tell just by looking at them they’re vibrant.

“I mean I know you like art,” Melody explains. “And I thought that-”

“They’re awesome!” Hope interrupts. “They’re awesome, Melody. Thank you, thank you so much.” She and Melody laugh, and Hope tries not to focus on her eyes. Her perfect eyes that sparkle when she laughs. Melody scratches the back of her neck, chewing her lip slightly.

“Um, I should get to my homeroom,” she says.

“Yeah, of course, yeah,” Hope says. “And, thanks. Again. These are… these are great.” Melody nods and gives her a small wave before heading down the hall. Hope’s eyes follow her, her heart fluttering as she goes. She bites her lip, the butterflies in her stomach going crazy.

“Wow,” Robin says, looking between her and Melody. “You have it so bad.”

“You have it bad,” she shoots back, which only makes Robin chuckle.

“Gosh, Hope, just ask the poor girl out,” she tells her.

“Seriously?” Hope splutters. “First off, how do you even know I like her?” Robin raises her eyebrows but remains silent. “Second off, even if I did like her, I don’t know if she likes girls. Or you know, likes me.”

“Aw, kid,” she says, patting her cheek. Hope scowls and wriggles away from her. “Trust me, she does.”

“Really?” she asks, her voice much higher than usual.

“Yeah, really.” She taps the box of pencils in Hope’s hand. “No one goes out and buys that for someone they don’t like.” Hope looks down at them, trying not to smile. Her hands shake and she holds the box tighter, like it’s Melody herself. Before she can ask anything else, the bell rings. “And I have to get to class.”

“Me too,” Hope sighs, closing her locker. “See you later.”

“Happy birthday kid,” she says again, wrapping her in a quick, light, one armed hug before heading off to homeroom.

Much later on, after school and homework and the usual “how was your day”, Hope and the rest of her family (often dubbed the Swan-Jones-French clan, which was fine for all parties involved) were making their way to Granny’s diner, Hope dressed in black jeans with a gold thread running up the sides, a crisp white shirt and red boots, a compromise she and her parents agreed on. If she had it her way, she’d be wearing overalls and a hoodie, but sadly, she can’t have everything. The fourth in line for the throne can’t be seen at her own birthday party in paint-splattered jeans.

The inside of Granny’s is spectacularly lit up, tables pushed to the side to accommodate the guests who had joined for her birthday. Hope pulls at her shirt, shrinking back a little into her family. All eyes being on her wasn’t an entirely comfortable experience. Frankly, she was more excited for tomorrow night when it would be her and a few good friends wreaking havoc in her living room. Guests are packed wall to wall, all here to celebrate the Princess’ birthday. A silver banner saying “Happy Birthday Hope” in large, colourful letters hands from the ceiling, rainbow coloured balloons sit in the corners and dotted around the room.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Granny says from the side, standing behind the counter.

“Thank you Granny,” she replies sincerely. She looks to the side, where the buffet of hot food sits on the counter, dishes full of fries, burgers, chicken strips and wings, onion rings (no doubt requested by her mom) and tries not to stare at it, but she is hungry and this is likely going to be the highlight of the night.

“Come on, let’s get some food,” her mom says, apparently reading her mind. At the bar, Hope piles her plate with a bit of everything she can, despite Gideon telling her she can come back for seconds if she wants. This is far from her first rodeo and she knows that the chicken wings especially go quickly. She piles up her plate and slides into a booth with her parents and Aunt Belle, her mom’s plate looking similar to her own.

Philip and his parents pass their table, Aurora with a small box wrapped in blue paper.

“Oh my gosh, Philip!” she says, her voice high and laced with sarcasm. “I didn’t know you were coming here!” Her mom laughs and has to disguise it with a drink.

“You blabbed, didn’t you?” Aurora asks fondly, ruffling his hair, making Philip scrunch up his face. “Anyway, now that we have you, is it okay to give presents now?”

“Don’t see why not,” Emma says. Aurora beams and hands Hope over the box.

“Philip pushed us in the right direction,” she says, rubbing her son’s back fondly. Philip hides his smile beneath his hair as Hope tears off the wrapping paper. Inside is two novels, one with a blue cover depicting a silhouette of a tree, and the other with a dark red cover with a silver sword.

“Oh my god!” Hope exclaims, reading the spines. “Renee Hamilton? I love these books; how did you know I love these books?”

“Because you were reading one last week and you said loudly, to all of us, ‘I love these books’,” Philip replies dryly, but smiling.

“Thank you,” she says, laughing. She looks past him to his relieved parents. “Thank you so much.”

From then, the rest of the room takes the cue to start handing out their own presents. A new jacket from Ella, Thomas and Alexandra (which matches the one of Alex’s that she had been admiring), pyjamas and watercolour paints from her grandparents and Lucas, a snow globe of Oz from Robin and Zelena (assured her, and more importantly her family, that she did not trap the inhabitants of Oz in a snow globe), and a new notebook from Thomas, Ella and Alexandra.

“Okay, here,” Belle says, handing her over a box wrapped in green sparkly paper. “This is from me and Gideon.” Hope catches Gideon’s eye. Despite how much they argue, he always manages to get her exactly what she wanted. Not just her, anyone he buys something for.

When she sees what’s underneath the wrapping paper, it seems he’s done it again; she finds a box containing bright red sneakers, ones she had stared at unsubtly in a catalogue. She knows they came straight from New York. She touches the white edges gently, flicking the toe of them. They’re tough, but somehow soft at the same time, and they have that amazing new shoe smell. They look too perfect to wear, but she can’t wait to get them on, her current sneakers suddenly feeling too tight and uncomfortable.

“Okay, why don’t you put them on?” her mom says fondly. “Since you’re clearly dying to?”

Hope doesn’t need to be told twice. She takes off her boots and slides the sneakers on, tying the laces tightly in a double knot, jumping up, bouncing, testing them out. They fit perfectly, like they were made just for her.

“Thank you,” she says to Belle and Gideon, not stopping her bouncing. “Thank you thank you thank you.” If she wasn’t in public, she’d hug them. Belle however seems to read her mind and hugs her tightly.

“You’re welcome,” she says softly.

“Anything for you, kid,” Gideon says, smiling. She’ll hug the hell out of him later tonight, he can count on that.

“And finally,” her mom says from behind. She turns around to see her dad carrying in a long, flat box covered in pink wrapping paper and setting it on the bar with a flourish. “The one from Mom and Dad.” Hope bites her lip, grinning as she runs over to the bar and pulls herself onto the stool, tearing the paper from the bottom up. She rips it away to reveal a smooth dark wooden box. After laying her hand on it and knocking, trying to guess what’s inside, she flips the two little golden latches and opens it.

What’s inside takes her breath away. Resting on a dark red velvet bed, a black handled sword, its curved blade tucked inside a metal sheath. The light catches on the handle, making it shine in all the colours of the rainbow. She runs her finger along the handle, the rest of the room silent.

“Can I…” she whispers, looking to her dad.

“Of course.”

Her hand curls around the handle and her other hand around the leather sheath, lifting it out of the box. She secures the sheath against her waist, fitting snuggly there like it was made specially for her, tailored to every curve and flaw of her body.

When she lifts the sword out, it comes out in one swift action. The blade is so clean she can see her reflection, the sharp edges gleaming in the overhead light. It looks harmless, beautiful and alluring, almost silver, but she doesn’t even need to touch the edges to know it would cut through her skin like it was paper.

“Woah,” she breathes.

“You bought her a sword?” she hears her grandfather ask, and it’s at that moment she becomes re-aware of the fact she’s not alone. She slides the sword back into its sheath without a word.

“Technically it’s a cutlass,” her dad replies, draining his glass of lemonade.

“It’s still a weapon,” he points out.

“Well, every kid should know how to use one at some point,” her mom explains. “Especially in this family.” Her grandfather opens his mouth, as if to protest, but seems to think the better of it and closes it. She slides the sword into its sheath, the weight against her hip somehow comforting.

“That’s so cool,” Lucas says, sitting at the bar next to where her dad put the box down. “Can I-”

“Absolutely not, Lucas!” her grandmother interrupts. “You still have the scar from your last sword related adventure.”

“Mom, Dad,” Hope says, after laughing just a little at Lucas. “Thank you, thank you so much.” She forgets stupid things like dignity and reputation and hugs them around the waist. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“We knew you’d like it, Cygnet,” her mom says, stroking her hair. “Now we can start real fighting lessons,” she whispers, out of earshot of her grandparents.” Hope grins and buries her face in her mom’s chest, making the group hug as tight as she possibly can. “And there’s one more…”

“Happy birthday to you!” Hope’s face floods red as she turns around to the entire diner serenading her. “Happy birthday, dear Hope!” Granny comes in from the kitchen with one of the waiters, carrying a towering three-layered chocolate cake, covered in different types of candy, with a 15 candle and a sparkler on the top. As it gets closer, she can see the intricate details on it; small marzipan bunnies and edible trees, a pumpkin sitting at the bottom and despite everything, she throws her head back and squeals in delight, her cheeks turning pink.

God damn it, she loves her family. Her crazy, huge family.

“Come on kid, blow out those candles,” Granny tells her. “Don’t want wax dripping onto that cake.”

“Make a wish, kid,” her mom tells her, pressing her lips to her head before letting her go. Hope steps up to it, the glow of the candles lighting up her face as she thinks about a wish, knowing not to waste it on something stupid like good grades or a pony.

A face catches her attention beside her and inspiration strikes.

I wish I could ask Melody out she thinks, blowing out the candle. The diner bursts into applause while Granny starts cutting the cake.

“Do I get to know what you wished for?” her mom asks, hugging her from behind.

“Of course not. I need it to come true,” she replies. She notices a small white card on the bottom of the cake and frowns, taking note of the cursive writing in silver. She steps out of her mom’s embrace and picks it up, wiping chocolate off it.

To Hope/Cygnet/Birthday Girl

So sorry I couldn’t be with you on your actual birthday. Unfortunately I’m tied up in LA on set. I wish I could be there to see you turning 15. Still, I hope the cake I ordered to be made from LA’s best chefs and sent to Storybrooke will satisfy until I get there.

Your big (always big) brother, Henry.

Hope turns to face her mom, raising an eyebrow.

“Did you know about this?” she asks, showing her the card.

“Not until this morning when he told me,” she replies, shrugging. “I’m sorry he couldn’t be here.”

“It’s fine,” Hope says. “Not his fault. And anyway… this is a pretty great present.”

“Yeah it is,” she chuckles. “Speaking of, why don’t you get in there before Lucas and Philip demolish it?” Hope turns around and nods. She knows from experience what they’re like with food. Plus it’s her cake and she’s determined to try every layer. She makes to run over to it but pauses in her tracks. She turns back to her mom, who is smiling at the little card Henry made her. Her mom, her funny, comforting mom who always knows what to say to her. Her mom, who got her the most amazing sword for her birthday and went out to get her chocolate chips specially and bought rainbow laces just last week like she knew Hope would be getting new sneakers.

“Hey mom?” she says, making her look up. She balls her hands into fists and sticks them in the pockets of her jacket. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Cygnet,” she says.

Smiling, and her heart pounding, Hope takes a more than generous slice of cake and slides into a booth with her friends, eating and laughing until her stomach hurts and then eating some more because she can, and no one is going to tell her no, setting up an impromptu tic tac toe tournament and doing stupid, food related dares.

She’s still a kid, after all.

[yatorihell]

In The Darkness Chapter 11 - The Astronomy Tower

Words: 3,512

Summary: Yato, Yukine and Hiyori spend the night stargazing instead of doing their homework. 

Previous chapter | First chapter

Happy birthday @wolfisyatotrash!!!

Read on AO3

Yato spent most of his free time loitering and tailing Takemikazuchi and Kuguha whenever he thought they were up to something. The opportunity to raid their personal quarters, however, didn’t present itself, much to Yato’s dismay.

Hiyori and Yukine seemed to have dropped the subject, only enquiring about it when they were in private as to not draw attention to themselves. Yato was thankful that they were in separate houses as it meant that they wouldn’t be lingering around to make things more difficult for him, or to ask unwanted questions.

The remainder of winter dragged out, eventually giving away to longer hours of bleak sunshine and lashings of Great British weather, particularly rain and overcast days, as spring crept in.

When daffodils began to bloom unexpectedly overnight and the new leaves on the trees began to rustle, Hiyori’s thoughts turned to thoughts of Easter break which was a few weeks away. Until then, like the rest of the school, she was sat in class. Though this class was unlike her others.

Every Wednesday at midnight, she had a class. Quite an odd time, you would think, but not when you knew the subject was astronomy. The most impressive aspect of this class was its location; the Astronomy Tower. The highest tower in the whole castle overlooking the Great Lake which mirrored the night sky, only interrupted by gentle ripples breaking the illusion of perfect reflection. But the class’ interest did not lie below them, but spread above them.

Starlight slashed through the navy sky, intruded by smatterings of dark clouds here and there within the clusters of stars. Their task for tonight was to observe the Lyrid meteor shower, though no asteroids had appeared yet.

Sat on her decorative pillow with her brass telescope, Hiyori pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders and stifled a yawn. The professor’s voice was making it very hard to keep her eyes open, the soft droning about astral and celestial bodies was enough to make anyone fall asleep, even if it weren’t midnight.

Propping her head up with her arm resting on her drawn up knees, Hiyori stared at the sky listlessly, counting the stars as if they were sheep. In the semicircle they were sat in, Hiyori could see Yama with her head leaning heavily against Aimi’s shoulder, her mouth wide open as she snored. Aimi herself had removed her glasses, eyes too tired and strained to cope with paying attention through the eyepiece of her telescope.

A few metres away from Hiyori was Yukine, his own yellow blanket pulled over his head until he resembled a hooded figure Hiyori had seen in a film when she was younger.

E.T.? Hiyori thought mildly, a smile tugging at her lips as she watched the occasional bob of Yukine’s head, his chin hitting his chest and startling him back to attention.

He let the blanket fall from his head to his shoulders, showing his mussed up blonde hair, which was now sticking up in unruly tufts. Not bothering to cover his mouth, Yukine shamelessly yawned as often as he could in the hopes that the lesson would finish sooner. Or he would get released early.

Neither happened until the professor’s miniature cuckoo clock sprang to life, the ornate hands pointing the time to be 1 o’clock exactly.

Yama startled awake at the sound and Aimi’s head snapped up, feigning attentiveness as the class roused back to life, grateful for the class to be over and to be allowed to go to bed. The class dispersed slowly, others moving more slowly than others and a few people having to be woken by their friends before the teacher deducted points for lack of attention.

Hiyori stretched and yawned widely, folding her telescope down and bundling her things up into her arms and making her way to the tower door. With any luck, she would manage to get some sleep and manage her classes the next day.

~ 

Unfortunately, Hiyori didn’t get much sleep as dawn broke a few hours later, marking the start of a new day, and the beginning of Easter break. Late that afternoon after classes had finished, a few students had packed up ready to go home to rest before the exam season begun. Hiyori opted to stay and enjoy her free time; she wouldn’t get to see or use magic for a few months once the summer holidays started.

Although exhausted, Yukine still didn’t seem to want to go home, just like he hadn’t for Christmas. Part of Hiyori wanted to ask about his life – it must’ve been more interesting than hers – but some sort of barrier seemed to guard the topic.

Instead, they sat together in the near-empty Great Hall. Hiyori was trying to read the assignment that had been given to them as homework. Though it was near impossible as they hadn’t seen any asteroids or managed to identify the constellations, it was made harder by the fact that her sleep deprivation had begun to take its toll.

Yukine had completely given up his struggle to stay awake and planted his forehead firmly on the desk, ready to take a nap. Behind him, a familiar face appeared and seemed to get an evil idea to scare him until Hiyori cleared her throat. Yato looked up, his face falling a bit at Hiyori’s warning glare. Sitting down glumly, they both watched Yukine for a moment.

“What’s up with him?” Yato asked, debating if it was worth pulling some kind of prank on Yukine whilst he slept. A set of cat ears might suit him.

“We had a late class. Astronomy,” Hiyori stifled a yawn after answering, but Yato seemed interested.

“Astronomy?”

“Yeah, watching the Lyrids meteor shower.”

“See anything?”

“No, we’ll miss it,” Hiyori said, propping her chin up. “It doesn’t peak ‘til Saturday, and class is on Wednesday.”

Yato hummed quietly.

“Well why don’t we go watch it?” he asked, directing the question at the dozing lump of blond hair and Hiyori’s surprised face. Yukine rolled his head to the side, snippets of the conversation catching his attention enough for him to slur a response.

“It’s at four in the morning,” he reminded him, as that small detailed seemed to be lost to Yato.

“Good thing it’s Easter break then.”

“The best place to watch it is the Astronomy Tower.” Hiyori added, hoping that he would get the point.

He didn’t.

“I know.”

“It’s out of bounds.”

“So?” Yato had a mischievous look in his eyes. His newest scheme already threatening to get them kicked out of the school.

“And how,” Hiyori said with an exasperated sigh, “would we get up there?”

“I’ll get you two up there!” Yato exclaimed.

“I doubt your magic cloak can help us get through a locked door,” Hiyori said doubtfully.

Yato cracked a grin, eyes alight with a dreadful idea. Hiyori hadn’t exactly protested the idea, so maybe she would consider it.

“We don’t need to use a door.”

~

At 3:36AM both Hiyori and Yukine were sat on one of the boulders overlooking the lake, the inky-black water reflecting shafts of moonlight on its tides that lapped near their feet. As agreed – or rather, compelled – they had arrived at their vague meeting spot to go along with Yato’s completely ludicrous plan. Considering he had pointed out the blank star chart Hiyori had in front of her, his claims that this ‘private tutoring’ would ‘excel their studies’ was too good to pass up.

By the time Yato had arrived – fashionably late as usual –, Yukine was just about ready to leave as it was a few minutes until the meteor shower would peak. Yato’s feet crunched on the shingle as he approached, a broom taller than himself clutched in his hand. His standard black robe – which had been shoved at the bottom of his trunk until then – enshrouded his appearance and blended him into the night. Likewise, Hiyori and Yukine had followed his instructions to wear their own robes to keep some sense of anonymity. They were breaking and entering, after all.

“Evening!” he called out cheerfully.

Yukine and Hiyori turned to look over their shoulders and shuffled down off of their perch, lugging their bags over their shoulders. Yukine muttered some kind of profanity under his breath as they approached Yato who had stopped and leant on his broom as if it were a staff.

“You’re late,” Hiyori said before Yukine could rip into Yato.

Yato smirked. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Hiyori looked at the broom, recognising it as the Nimbus Two Thousand that Yato had flown in the November Quidditch match.

“I take it that this is what you meant when you said: ‘We don’t need to use a door’?”

“Correctamundo!” Yato said, standing up straight and holding the broom out in front of him. He let it fall, but it suspended itself in the air, patiently waiting for its owner.

“Not much space,” Yukine grumbled. He was getting antsy from his lack of sleep, and it was threatening to sour the mood. Yato breezed past the observation with a simple solution.

“I’ll fly you up first, then I’ll come back for Hiyori.”

Hiyori nodded duly, but Yukine gave Yato an untrusting glance. “How do I know you won’t drop me in the lake?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Yato declared as Yukine awkwardly sat in front of him, bag nearly hitting Yato in the face. A grin split across Yato’s face as he readied himself to lift off.

“I don’t believe badgers can swim!”

As soon as the gibe left his lips, and before Yukine could turn around to bash his head in, Yato had kicked his feet onto the stirrups and straightened his back, grin turning to one of lunacy as they rocketed across the lake. Yukine yelled in surprise, fighting to reclaim his balance whilst Yato cackled and steered them to the lake at alarming speed.

Hiyori let out a shriek of worry as her hands clapped over her mouth, watching them hurtle towards the face of the cliff before abruptly turning upwards and away, speed slowing considerably as they drifted to the top of the tower and disappeared from sight. No doubt Yukine was clinging to the broom for dear life and would try to beat the shit out of Yato once they landed – if he could see straight.

After a few moments Hiyori could make out the faint figure of Yato swooping back down to her, more elegantly than he did on his way up. Once he was low enough, Yato skidded the broom in mid-air so he came to a stop right by Hiyori’s side with a self-satisfied grin.

“Don’t even think of doing that to me.” Hiyori said icily, her trust in Yato’s ability to not splat her against the cliff fading fast.

“I couldn’t resist.” Yato’s grin didn’t waiver. Instead he drummed his fingers on the shaft of the broom. They stood apart quietly, Hiyori watching Yato and him looking back up at the tower. Eventually he looked back at her.

“Are you going to get on or what?” he asked in an impatient tone. Hiyori’s eyes flicked to his face, and back to the broom. She hadn’t flown – successfully – since her first lesson. So, never. First years couldn’t have their own brooms, so she didn’t have the opportunity to practice. Unless…

“Could I…?” Hiyori began to ask somewhat shyly, admiring the polished mahogany and brush bristles that hadn’t a straw out of place. Yato looked at her, confused, before clicking what she was getting at.

“You're a broom fanatic, I knew it!” he groaned dramatically, as if the very thought was enough to make his nauseous.

“What’s wrong with that?!” Hiyori shot back defiantly, “Brooms are cool!”

“So cool that you can't control yourself and crash them into the first person you can find?” Yato replied gibingly, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Hiyori opened her mouth to protest back, but shut it again. She couldn’t exactly refute her skills on a broom. She folded her arms over her chest in a pout, remembering obliterated broomstick from her first flying lesson.

“No way I'm letting you fly this thing after last time, I have a quidditch match next month,” Yato paused for a moment before adding “and I’d like to live.”

Hiyori shot him a deathly glare which Yato ignored, patting the space on the broom in front of him. “Come on.”

Hiyori sat – rather uncomfortably – in front of him. Trying not to slip back onto him would prove a difficult task as she had already seen the reckless way he flies. She leant forward and gripped the broom for dear life, expecting the worst, albeit Yato’s flying was much better than hers.

Yato tightened his grip on the broom behind Hiyori, entertaining the idea for moment if she were to fall into the Great Lake as soon they left the ground. Yato kicked his feet hard into the earth with enough force to lift them both of the ground. The broom wobbled slightly as Hiyori leant lower onto the broom like a cat on a wire, her eyes squeezed shut.

Yato nestled his feet in the curved grooves of the golden stirrups, steadily gaining height until they were high enough to skim over the surface of the lake and slowly glide up towards the Astronomy Tower, moonlight framing its silhouette against the black sky.

Yato looked at the dimly lit windows of the surrounding towers, wary if someone was watching them, before looking ahead. The lump of billowing robes in front of him told him Hiyori was not going to budge until she was back on solid ground.

“How’s the view up there?” he asked cheerfully, the smile evident in his voice.

“Dunno.” Hiyori’s voice was barely audible, muffled by the robes blowing up against her face.

“Open your eyes.”

Hiyori stayed silent. She didn’t move, or scream, so it was safe to assume that she hadn’t seen the view. Though it would’ve made the flight worse if she saw the drop to the rocks below and freaked out.

Within a few minutes they’d touched down on the cobbled stones of the Astronomy Tower. Yukine was lying flat on his back, the cushion from his bag propped his head up slightly. His arm was flung over his eyes as if he had given up on the whole plan, or was feeling extremely sick from his flight. Reason compelled Hiyori to believe it was the latter.

“You ok, Yukine?” Hiyori asked. Yukine grunted a yes, moving his arm and blearily looking at the two.

“You’re alive,” he remarked, slightly bitter that Hiyori looked unscathed from her flight, “good.”

“We wouldn’t be if she had flown,” Yato interjected, pacing over to Yukine, “she just about ripped the broom from my hands wanting to fly.”

“I did not!” Hiyori exclaimed loudly.

“You’re the reason first years can’t have brooms, Hiyori.” Yukine said, pushing himself up as Yato sat down beside him. He watched Hiyori who had walked to the edge of the tower, peering over the edge at the courtyard below, then up to the stars.

“Sit down,” he called, “it’ll start soon.”

Hiyori leant back and pushed herself firmly away from the wall, trotting over to sit on the other side of Yato. Shrugging off her bag, she pulled out a cushion which she wedged underneath her, and drew her arms out of her robes to make a cosy shroud. Another dive into her bag produced the star chart they had to complete, an astronomy book, and writing equipment.

“The Lyrids come from the constellation of Lyra,” Hiyori murmured. She scanned the sky for the familiar constellation amongst the smattering of stars. The chart was partly filled in, and the textbook gave her some guidance of what to look for given their position.

“We’re facing South so the meteors should come from…” Yato pointed at some abstract part of the sky, which Yukine and Hiyori squinted at, “there.”

“We know, we did this in class.” Yukine said tiredly. He had yet to take out his own homework. Hiyori had a sneaking suspicion that he would just copy his Hufflepuff friend.

Yato shrugged, face turned skywards in a temporary silence. After a moment, he pointed at the sky.

“That’s Draco, you can see the curve of its tail.” Yato swished his finger in the air to and fro at the invisible creature.

Hiyori searched for the semi-familiar shape of the constellation before Yato pointed out another before looking back at the textbook.

“On the right is Hercules,” he dragged his finger through the air, outlining the misshapen form of what was meant to be the Greek hero. Hiyori hummed distractedly, noting down star names and connecting them to make constellations that looked nothing like they should.

Yato fell quiet and tilted his face to the sky, looping his arms around his knees. Yukine had splayed out on the ground, fighting to keep his eyes open with his arms crossed behind his head. After a while Hiyori finished writing and pushed her bag away, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. The shower should be about to start.

Unsure of how much time had passed, or if he had fallen asleep and been left behind, Yukine cracked open an eye just in time to see the first meteor fly into his line of sight, and hear the wondrous ‘oh’ that Hiyori breathed.

A handful of white-hot fireballs grazed the night with blazing trails of stardust, snapping the trio’s attention here and there as they briefly streaked across the sky before fizzling out. For the first half hour they watched the kaleidoscope of comets whizzing through the air in a comfortable silence. Hiyori turned her head to the side. Yukine now had his eyes closed and his chest was moving rhythmically, whilst Yato was staring – quite literally – into space.

“Hey, Yato?”

Yato blinked once and moved his head slightly, humming slightly to show his attention.

“Thank you.”

Yato’s face still turned skyward but was slightly rosy. A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. “You’re welcome.”

The shower ended as quickly as it had started. One hour after they had fell into a comfortable silence, with Yukine’s faint snores, the sky had lightened slightly and left no evidence of the spectacle they had witnessed. The mass of constellations that had been so easy to pick out were now obscured by dawn breaking through the valley, dipping the lake into light golden colours.

“Ready to go?” Yato asked quietly. There had been no meteors for 10 minutes, meaning the peak had passed. Hiyori hummed a yes, unfolding her body and stretching her legs out.

Yato tapped Yukine’s nose twice and watched it scrunch up as he cracked open his eyes.

“Time to go, Sleeping Beauty.” Yato gibbed. Yukine’s inability to process words, given that he had just woken up, may have saved Yato from a poorly-aimed punch.

Yukine rolled over onto his side and pushed himself up groggily. Hiyori and Yato had already stood up, Yato readying his broom to take them back down - a dreadful thought as he remembered his first-hand experience flying with Yato.

Yato caught the anguished look Yukine had and grinned. “I'll be good this time.”

Yukine grunted, getting to his feet and shoving his pillow and uncompleted homework into his bag. He sat in front of Yato again, hands clutching it tightly in case Yato had another surprise in store. He didn't.

The flight down took much longer than it did on the way up, probably because Yato had decided not to plummet downwards, and was more careful of being spotted as they flew low out of sight of the turret windows.

Yato didn't bother touching down, instead waiting for Yukine to hop off before gliding back towards the Astronomy Tower.

Hiyori quietly hopped on the broom once Yato had come back. She didn't lean down on the brooms this time, but still clutched it like a life and kept her eyes screwed shut as the descending feeling and the wind in her hair told her she was at the mercy of Yato’s flying. Not that he had been that bad the first time.

Yato let Hiyori jump off where he had left Yukine, who was dragging a hand across his eyes and looking sullen that his sleep had been interrupted. Dismounting, Yato pulled the hood of his cloak up. Yukine and Hiyori followed suit and began following Yato who had begun treading across the shingle. Their footsteps crunched and the unevenness made them stumble slightly until they reached the path.

With muted thanks and goodbyes, they kept their heads down as they quickly manoeuvred through the castle doors and split to their respective dorms, cloaks trailing stardust in their wake as a new day dawned on the castle.

[batbros-before-hoes]

Loving him was Red. Burning Red.

Prompt: Soulmate AU. Both you and your soulmate are born color blind until you meet each other.

Pairing: Reader x Jason Todd/Red Hood

Warning: Angst, tragedy, death, blood.

Author’s note: I’m secretly the biggest Taylor Swift fan ever so I casually slipped in some lyrics. But not enough to consider this a songfic. Sorry, not sorry that this fic is so long. I thought about making this a two-part series but changed my mind at the last minute. Needless to say, I may have gotten carried away. On a totally unrelated note, I’m from Canada so writing this fic felt extremely weird since we spell the words “color” and “gray” differently. That being said, get your tissue box ready and prepare to have your heart torn out of your chest in the most gruesome way imaginable.

The idea of having a soulmate has always been very abstract to you. Though the notion of soulmates has been explained to you time and time again, you never seemed to be able to grasp the concept.

Perhaps it’s because it’s merely impossible to describe color to a color-blind person. Since it’s literally impossible to imagine a color; when your parents and teachers told you about such an obscure concept you were unable to truly understand. Sure, the theory behind it all made sense. In your physics class, you had learned all about the different wavelengths. Heck, you had even gotten a perfect score on your exam!

Maybe your lack of comprehension regarding the matter derived from the fact that soulmates were extremely rare. Only select few were lucky enough to marry their soulmates. The odds were stacked against you. Even your physics teacher couldn’t see colors. The very person to teach you about the principles behind this spectacular phenomenon had never experienced it. Ergo, how could you possibly be expected to fully understand?

Despite your dearest efforts, having never known a life that wasn’t black, white and a million shades of gray, picturing the world in color simply couldn’t be done. You’d stay up late at night trying to visualize what it would be like to acquire this magnificent gift. Whenever you came across a lucky star or a birthday candle your wish would be to one day meet your soul mate. You dearly wanted to have that fairytale ending. All you ever dreamed about was to be the exception to the rule.

However, you never envisioned what the cruel universe had planned for you.

After graduating high school, you decided to move to Gotham city. Your parents weren’t in favor of their only child moving across the country to the crime capital of the world. However, you had been offered a full scholarship from the Gotham University in the program of your choosing. Your parents understood that this wasn’t an offer you could refuse. It was the opportunity of a lifetime.

You moved over to the big city during summer break. You had found yourself a small apartment a few blocks away from campus and walking distance from the grocery store. It wasn’t anything fancy but it was all you needed.

That summer you began to experience something rather strange.

It all begun at the farmer’s market, one Sunday afternoon. You were out buying some fresh vegetables when you accidently bumped into a stranger in the crowd. Suddenly, you could’ve sworn that the tomato in your hand shifted from a dark gray color to a dull red for a split second. But in the blink of an eye, the tint had faded.

You weren’t sure what had just happened, you didn’t even realize that the somber blackish red pigment was a color. Since this was your very first time ever encountering it. You probably would’ve even known what to call the color had you been aware of its brief appearance.  

The next time you came upon this strange sensation was a few weeks later at the library. You were reading your favorite book in the back corner of the old establishment, to avoid getting disturbed. Coincidently, that very same day Jason found himself at the library reading the same book in the adjacent aisle. Neither one of you noticed the presence of the other, since the large book shelved divided you. But it was close enough for your senses to grow faintly stronger.

You didn’t notice the effects that Jason’s mere presence had on you until a few hours later. You were at a coffee shop when you abruptly saw something odd in the corner of your eye. You swiftly turned around and immediately noticed that the restaurant’s logo had unfamiliar tone. The logo that you were staring at was the same color as the tomato that you had held in your hands a few weeks prior. A red so dark it could’ve easily been mistaken for black. The only difference was that this time it lasted a few minutes which gave you time to inspect it closely.

There was no mistaken, you knew exactly what you had seen this time. Naturally, you began to ask yourself a million questions. “Is it really happening? Who is he? Where is he? When will our paths cross again? Will they ever cross again? Where will they cross? Is he also freaking out?” Your brain was racing at the speed of light. All this excitement and intrigue made it impossible for you to fall asleep. Your mind kept playing out various scenarios of your enchanting encounter with this mystery man. You couldn’t help but wonder how it would all unravel. The only thing that you knew with absolute certainty was that your knight in shining armor was in Gotham.

The following day, you went out with a few colleagues for some drinks after a long hard week.

Since it was Friday, yourself and your coworkers stayed at the bar until last call, having a few too many drinks. The bar was located a few blocks away from your apartment ergo, you decided to walk home to avoid having to pay for a cab.

On your way home, you opted for the shortcut. To avoid lurking around the small dark alley, you picked up your pace. But it was no use. Waiting for you in the shadows was a group of lowlifes ready to ambush their prey.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” said the first shadow, eyeing you like a predator about to pounce. “Scream and I’ll cut your throat, bitch.” He threatened.

You felt shivers running down your spine leaving you paralyzed. “P-p-p-please.” You whimpered in absolute terror.

“Relax baby doll, we won’t hurt you. I promise, it’s just a game. Don’t you want to play?” Added the second creep.

By the time you realized that you had made a terrible mistake, the thugs had you surrounded. It was too late to escape and you knew it.

“I would love to play.” Echoed a voice from a nearby rooftop. “But I’m warning you, you’re going to lose.”

In a matter of seconds, the men were disarmed and knocked out by the fabled Red Hood. “Are you alright?” The red hood questioned slowly approaching you. “I can escort you back home if you’d like.”

“I-I’m just shaken up.” You replied. “I’m [Y/N], thank you for saving me.”

“It’s what I do best.” Said the masked vigilante arrogantly. “Now how about we get you home safely?” he then proceeded to wrap his arm around your shoulder for comfort.

As soon as your bodies made contact, the pair of you were hit with a jolt of pure raw energy. It was exhilarating, like fireworks! You felt your soul being kissed by a hint of magic. Colors bursting left and right. Like a euphoric symphony. It was undeniably love at first sight. It felt like finally coming up for a breath of fresh air after being dragged underwater. Neither one of you could say a word. Yet, somehow you both knew exactly what the other was feeling. While the rest of the world was black and white, you were in screaming color.

The walk home was enchanting. The raging colors were overwhelming. Not to mention that against all odds you had met your soulmate. You were in a trance. It all felt like a dream, the most exquisite dream you would ever have. You never wanted to wake up. For a moment, everything was perfect.

When you finally reached your doorstep, the silence broke. “Would you like to come in?” You offered hopefully.

“Of course. I would be delighted. Please, lead the way”

You fumbled for your keys still a little bit drunk, “Got them!” unlocked the door and waltz in, “Welcome to my humble abode!” you exclaimed.

“Unfortunately, I won’t be able to stay very long, duty calls. But I promise that I will make it up to you darling. How about tomorrow at 8 O’clock? I’ll pick you up?” Before you could answer, your masked vigilante had disappeared into the shadows.

If it weren’t for the alcohol in your system you wouldn't've been able to fall asleep. The events that had just occurred were allot to process. You were awakened by the sound of the doorbell. You rushed down in hopes of being reunited with the mystery man but instead found a large bouquet of red roses, a beautifully golden wrapped box topped with a red bow and a note on your doorstep.

You frantically ran out in your pajamas in hopes of seeing whoever sent you these gifts but didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary outside aside from a wave of lyrical colors. After giving up the hopeless chase, you walked back into your apartment with the gifts.

You set the box on the counter and put roses on the dining room table to be properly displayed. Afterward, you sat down and carefully opened the delicate envelope. Inside, read a note that said:

Remember, 8 pm sharp. –XOXO

A smile grew wide upon your face as you gently set the note down and delicately unwrapped the beautiful golden box with the red bow. Inside, laid a gorgeous red silk dress along with a second note that said:

Thought I’d help you pick out something nice to wear on our first date. –XOXO

“Who is this guy?” You thought to yourself.

The rest of your day was spent attempting to find the perfect shoes and getting your: nails, hair, and makeup done. You were about to go on the most important date of your life. Naturally, you desperately wanted everything to be perfect. The butterflies accumulated in your stomach caused by a fusion of anxiousness and nervousness made you feel sick.

But all those feeling vanished, the moment the doorbell rang and you opened the door revealing a handsome blue-eyed gentleman. “Good evening Miss. [Y/L/N], you look stunning.”

“Good evening …”

“Todd, Jason Todd. But all my friends call me Jay.”

“Good evening Jay,” you say while blushing, “It’s so nice to finally meet the man behind the mask.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Jason then kindly escorts you to the limousine awaiting you at the end of your driveway. About 15 minutes later you arrived at your destination. An elegant restaurant located just outside the city lines.

Having recently moved to Gotham and not being familiar with Bruce Wayne’s long list of adopted kids you can’t help but ask Jason the most ridiculous question. “Did the Red Hood rob a bank in order to afford all these luxurious surprises?”

Jason chuckled and replied, “No, I’m Bruce Wayne’s adopted son. My father owns this restaurant along with numerous other small companies all operating under Wayne Enterprises.”

As the night progressed you feel more and more in love with this perfect stranger as you grew to know him better. He told you everything about himself. He told you about his family growing up followed by his adventures while living in the streets of Gotham. Then he told the stories about later being adopted by Bruce Wayne, taking over the robin mantle only to be brutally murdered by the Joker and resurrected by a madman. Jason even opened up about his rough time settling after being revived and his new-found alias. Despite having numerous questions, you simply listened to every word. You wanted to capture this moment. You wanted to remember all these wonderful yet tragic stories for years to come. You wanted to assure Jason that you would be there for him from now on. You wanted Jason to know that nothing bad would ever happen again because you’d be there this time by his side. You wanted to ensure him that he would never be alone again.

After dinner, he proposed yet another activity. “I know the perfect place but we have to hurry if we don’t want to miss it.”

Roughly five minutes later, you hoped out of the limousine and thanked Alfred once more. When you turned around your jaw dropped leaving you speechless. Jason had brought you to the most beautiful spot in the world. Just outside of the city was this lovely isolated piece of land. it was perfect. You could smell the fresh air, feel the gentle blades of grass brushing up against your legs, hear the birds singing a poetic melody and see mother nature’s majestic reflection in the still water.

That evening you witnessed your very first sunset. It was captivating. The way the colors danced together in the sky was mesmerizing. You were undeniably in love. Watching the sunset with Jason spontaneously became your favorite thing in the world. It felt like all your problems were lifted. Time stood still and all was quiet. No matter how terribly life in the big city treated Jason and yourself, when you would escape to this paradise you felt nothing but peace.

Jason and yourself would take a trip here every single day to watch the seemingly infinite horizon take away pain and replace it with pure ecstasy. Together, you would admire the flares of reds, oranges, pinks and yellows harmoniously waltz in the heavens.

Alas, Tragedy struck.

Without a warning, fate intervened and robbed you of you most prized procession. It mercilessly stole your one and only source of happiness. Fate was like a ruthless wind. A cruel cold blooded murderer. A violent storm, a force of nature not to be reckoned with. It barged in uninvited and left behind nothing but soul crushing agony.

One stormy night, while you were at home sleeping you heard your bedroom window crack open. However, this didn’t startle you, Jason routinely entered your apartment through the window after patrol. Thus, you didn’t open your eyes and stayed in bed to avoid being up for the remainder of the night. But this time was different. Jason’s body fumbled through the small crack and collapsed on your bedroom’s floor.

A loud thump woke you up from your semi-conscious state. “JASON!” you cried out.  “What in God’s name happened?” you inquired running over to his lifeless body. As soon as you reached him you immediately check his vital signs. Jason’s pulse was weak and his breath was shallow. “D-Don’t worry, everything will be okay. I-I’ll make everything better. J-just stay with me, Jay. Keep your eyes on me.” You frantically said.

“[Y/N], I love you.” Comforted Jason while gently whipping the tears streaming down your face simultaneously leaving an auburn streak on your cheek.

“No, no, no. Stay with me, baby. Don’t you dare leave me like this. I’m not ready to lose you, Jay. I love you.” You cried out while struggling to acquire help. Instinctively you began applying pressure to Jason’s gunshot wounds. But it was no use. A pool of blood had already formed itself. And Jason’s limp arm abruptly hit the ground splashing your face with blood.

Just like that, you knew. You knew he was gone. The love of your life had abandoned you. The thick crimson liquid stained the cold hardwood floor. The vermilion warm fluid ran down your arms. Jason’s blood left a scarlet trace all over both of your clothes. Red. Red was the very last color you would ever see. It burned itself into your mind. From that moment to the end of eternity you would be scared by the devil’s color.

It was ironic how red had once been your favorite color. Not only was it the first color you had ever scene. But it was Jason’s color. That entrancing ruby red used to remind you of the tomato from the farmer’s market, the logo from the coffee shop, the dress you wore on your first date and the roses that Jason had surprised you with. Cherry red, the color that once symbolized love had now become the color of demise.

A few hours later, when the sun rose you came to the terrible realization that you would never be able to go back to your special spot with Jason. The place where you could see the fire burning in the atmosphere. This broke your already shattered heart. Knowing that the sun would keep on rising and setting day in and day out but you would not be capable of admiring it was devastating.

Becoming color blind made you realize just how real everything was. That this wasn’t just some sort of nightmare. That Jason was gone forever. That you would never see your soulmate ever again. That Jason’s comforting voice was nothing more than a memory that would fade away with time. That his comforting touch wouldn’t be felt when you craved his warm embrace. That the smell of old books, leather, gunpowder, cigarettes and aged scotch would slowly vanish from the apartment you shared.

After Jason’s death, the world not only became black, white and a million shades of gray but it became somber. Your world became darker than ever. It was as if someone had turned the lights off.

[pilotingthestars]

Feel free to ignore this post. I just need to vent and then maybe I can focus on studying. Rest of post will be below for all you curious people like me. But really it’s boring emotional, relationship stuff (or lack thereof). I also have bad story telling skills. I was advised to write down my thoughts and I feel silly writing it on paper so here they are. Prepare yourself for word vomit.

So, just about 3 months ago, things and I ended terribly with my ex (that’s now the first time I’ve called him that jeez). Let’s call him Rufus from now on since that’s what my grandpa calls him to be mean sorry to anybody actually named Rufus. We had been dating for a little over 3 years when I found on his work phone that he had downloaded tinder and had been using it for a few months. I can never say for sure if he cheated or not; when I found it there was one message from him to a girl and some matches. But, mind you, he had activated it months prior and lied to me about every detail that I did know when I found out. So really, while he says nothing went beyond what I saw, I couldn’t and still don’t believe him (always had a bad habit of not answering his phone and messages too when I wasn’t with him…makes you think). I will sadly forever remember the date this happened because I had just come home from my grandfather’s birthday party in the next city. It was already late that night so I would stay in the guest bedroom upstairs (we had our own house). The next day, I would head to my mom’s in the same city mentioned above which is about an hour away. Told him I needed some space to think on things and of course I wanted to be with my family as emotionally hurt as I was.

Now that I’m away I began thinking of what’s been going on with everything in those months before. The first and biggest thing that comes to mind is the former 3 of those 4 months he had the account before I found it, my grandfather had been critically hospitalized due to a serious fire accident. He is old so the hope that he would pull through was hard to see so I would end up being at the hospital everyday. This would end up being for the next three months because fortunately my grandfather pulled through despite the chances even though it was and still is a long healing process. When I visited him on his birthday, he had just been dismissed from the hospital a couple days prior to live with my mom. Now the idea that Rufus was doing this during that time and never really was there to support me and my family during it, completely pissed me off. Unfortunately, as mad and hurt as I was, I still cared for him. They were feelings I couldn’t just shake; I had thought this was the person I would be with until the end. We had a whole life together…even bought a house together. His family was my family and whatnot.

I never stayed in that house again after that first night of finding out. A few days later, and as chance would have it, I ended up talking to him about everything on valentines day. That night, I told him I would like to take some time apart (very clearly not break up) to help me emotionally handle it on top of staying up with my school and work responsibilities. He appeared to be very sorry and realized the mistake he made and promised he would take the time to self reflect and work on himself to be a better person (ha!). I would then commute from my moms house to town everyday for school and work which was a minimum 1 hour drive one way (1hr 45min if going to work). This was also the time the workload and intensity of my classes was picking up in the semester. Between the now loss of time I had to a commute + the increased school work (double STEM major here) + my lack of sleep + my emotional instability + helping take care of grandpa who at the time still had no use of both hands and was 100% dependent…things went down hill real fast. I began missing my early morning classes, missing quizzes, homework assignments, and even exams. It was the absolute shit show of all shit shows. Somehow I have managed to keep my work out of this mess but barely. On top of all this, my mom didn’t believe him about being sorry and working on things so she created a fake tinder account to see if she would find him on there still despite him having “deleted” it. I will forever be grateful for my mom’s insight and realizing I was being naive before I did. As you can guess, just after a couple weeks, she found him on there. I called him that day and asked how was doing and blah blah, basically getting a story from him that he still wanted things to work out. As I am on the phone with him, I just send him screenshots of his own damn profile just to hear him slowly shut up and realize he’s been caught. I ended it right then.

Fortunately, at the end of the day, the mortgage was solely under his name so I did not have to worry about any legal things there. The car I used was also under his name so I had to quickly find time to purchase my own vehicle since there is no other way of getting out to my work otherwise (it’s a requirement for the job that you have your own mode of transportation – it is too far out in the middle of nowhere for anyone to bike too). Unfortunately, still had to talk to him on and off to get the other bills situated. With everything mentioned above, I told him I wasn’t quite sure at the time when I would be able to move everything out and would probably have to be a few weeks until spring break (the least he could do was ignore my stuff in the house). Well, he took it upon himself to just pack everything up for me. I guess that made the labor part on me easy but, given I still stupidly had feelings, it hurt that he seemed to want all of me gone already. So, then I was officially moved out of there with the exception of a large desk I still have to pick up. It just so happened that that my mom was getting ready to move at this time (into the big city where my grandpa’s doctors are and also where my school and work is) so I didn’t have anywhere to put the desk at the time. We just moved in a couple days ago…that’s also why I didn’t rent myself a place from the beginning because my family and I would end staying together (also I’m broke af with a car payment now).

So spring break goes by and I had a small moment to breathe to finally fully asses the situation as is all i wanted to do from the beginning before finding him on the site again. Now me being the apparent sap that I am, I asked to meet with him so that we could just talk things over once and for all and close on a decent note. Now the one thing I had valued about the relationship, is that I made sure communication was key and I was always upfront with whatever was going on (which I thought he was too but turned to obviously not be the case). So I just let him know every thought and emotion I had whether good, bad, sad, whatever. One thing I noticed and found weird was that he unfriended me on facebook (social media…sigh) even though he never did his prior ex. He said it “hurt too much” with all the reminders and I, again, naively, believed him. I thought it was a good ending convo and we parted ways on okay terms. From this point I’m still trying to handle my stupid emotions and things go back and forth but overall get better little by little. Then I find out that the reason he really unfriended me is because he was in a relationship with somebody else (!!!!) like a week (according to fb) after we ended it. Now that one hurt.

I still had somehow convinced myself that he was sorry and actually cared for me (we were together for years!) so the last thing I expected was for him to move on so quickly. I realize now how dumb I was and I felt so stupid for believing him. I can’t help but think about how long they may have actually been together before it was officially announced on fb but I know those thoughts are useless and I’m trying to ignore them…getting better each day. Far better now actually. As far as I’m aware, he doesn’t know that I know. I plan on picking up that desk next week and I’m not sure what I’m going to say to him. I am at the point now where I just don’t give a shit about him and what he does. Part of me wants to just lay it all down and perhaps tell him off and give him some semblance of this shit he’s put me through. The other half says to just be the better person, get my desk and move on. Last time we talked he said not to be a stranger but I will let him know that he will not hear from me ever again. That much is clear.

Through all of this, my self esteem had been shot. I of course had the usual questions like where did I go wrong or is there something wrong with me. I know these are stupid questions and I believe I’m at the point beyond them now. I know I’ll never really find why he did what he did (never did tell me why other than just say over and over that he made a “mistake”) and that’s okay. At one point I signed up for some of the dating sites. Realized quickly I did not have the emotional capacity to actually meet people and attempt any semblance of a romantic connection with. It was nice for a minute to just talk to people though and see that a perhaps I’m not a total waste of space romantically.

I’ve come around to recognize my worth and realize that a romantic future outside of him is possible. Looking back at what we were, I feel glad that it is over. As my mother had saw (I really should listen to her more often), I also see now that I changed a lot about who I was to fit into his world (his life, his house, his family). One thing that always bothered me (on top of many others I also swept under the rug), was that he never cared to show interest in anything I cared about. It if it wasn’t something he initially found himself interested in, then it didn’t matter despite me always trying to be the good girlfriend and find myself looking into things he liked.

At first I thought it would be hard to get to know people (I was pretty socially reclusive during the relationship) because I was now a different person than I was three years ago (21 to 24). But I realize that’s only because I stowed away my true self for so long. Of course I will say I’ve matured but I’ve been doing a lot of self reflection lately and am re-encountering all the things that I enjoyed prior to all this. One of those is music! I went to a concert the other night for a band I’ve listened to for years (even before him) and it was one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time. Though I have been continuously going to shows, this last one really stuck out and made me realize the the things I want to focus on now. My top priorities are of course my family, my school (future grad student), and my work. But also I want to spend more time going out and exploring more (especially nature), get back into learning music, and just getting to meet new and amazing people! I don’t think I’ve felt this urge to just explore and be happy as I do now; especially as someone whose dealt with depression in the past. I feel now like I have the whole word ahead of me and I think I like the idea of being free.

[kiriami]

OC Sheet - Argent

All of the collective need-to-know info below the cut.

Some of this was already included in other posts, but nearly all of it is new information. Credit for the blank sheet goes to Character-Resource.

Full Name: Argent Esme Nikephoros

Meaning:

Argent – silver

Esme – beloved

Nikephoros – carrier of victory

Gender: Cisgender male

Orientation: Pansexual

Real Age: 16-17

Age Appearance: Around his actual age, but can sometimes appear a bit younger when swamped in oversized clothing because of his baby face.

Birthday: September 17th

Birthplace: Texas

Astrological Sign: Virgo

Species: human

Ethnicity: Cuban American

Blood Type: A+

Preferred Hand: right for reading/fiddling with things, but left for fighting

Signature: Inconsistent as heck and often running over the lines, Argent does not like having to write/sign anything because he knows it is generally unintelligible.

Facial Type: oval

Eye Color: silver (after manifestation and damage), brown (previous to manifestation)

Hair Color: white and black/grey (in places where there are excessive amounts of pigmentation)

Hairstyle: pulled back and up in a braid bun, usually. Otherwise long and sticking up when not tamed enough to just sit in soft waves.

Complexion: even in places that are still unaffected by his quirk

Makeup: none

Build: long limbed, shoulder and hip width about equal, some defined muscle

Height: 6′5″

Weight: 174 LBS

Shoe Size: 285 mm

Birthmarks/scars: none

Distinguishing Features: bi colored hair and skin, perpetually closed eyes

Immediate Family: Mother (Rosaleen William) and father (Stephanos Walt Nikephoros)

Parenting: Argent was brought up in a very forgiving household that stressed following the rules and being kind. Unfortunately, after he lost his sight, they became much stricter in hopes of keeping him safe.

Upbringing: Argent was incredibly perceptive to other people’s emotions by watching them until he lost his sight. His mother constantly reminded him to be mindful of his words and how other people reacted. As of the current era, he worries about offending people and not being able to tell when he should or should not apologize.

Infancy: Argent was nurtured to become a hero as a child and encouraged to learn just about anything he wanted by his parents going into his childhood.

Childhood: At around five, his quirk manifested and he was blinded. Fortunately, the visit to the emergency room was over and he was not required to undergo an excess of rehabilitation aside from basic therapy to help him adjust.

Adolescence: Argent home schooled after he lost his sight until applying to UA’s support department in hopes he could put his special interests to work, taking the written exam in a separate facility and presenting some skill when it came to developing and testing equipment.

Adulthood: Route One - Graduates from UA and signs on with a support company. Everything is rather bland. Route Two - Becomes a hero.

Coming of Age: Second year of schooling at UA. He finally began getting past the blocks he had set up for himself since the accident.

Evolution: Argent was quieter when he was younger, getting progressively louder over the years along with worrying about his appearance and demeanor a lot more.

Energy: Argent is horrible in the mornings, but can generally stay awake and active for around eight hours without feeling strain.

Memory: Not super good, remembers sounds more than anything else. Bad with names, but really good with smells

Senses: No sight, good sense of smell and hearing

Allergies: Lactose

Handicaps: Blindness

Phobias: Being forgotten, hated, or suffocating because of his own power

Addictions: chocolate and pineapple juice

Mental Disorders: Anxiety, autism

Mode of Dress: Doesn’t like tucking in his shirts, but is fine with wearing a bottom that sits higher up. Doesn’t like wearing jeans, or pants with thick seams, so he usually wears leggings, or a layer under the UA uniform to avoid the unpleasant sensation

Grooming: Decently kept, but not super put together

Posture: Argent tends to slouch quite a bit unless someone points it out and will draw into himself when scared/uncomfortable

Gait: Argent likes to walk pretty fast (and will in places he is familiar with), but slows down quite a bit when out and about even when accompanied to avoid accidents whenever possible

Coordination: good when focused. Argent can’t deal with things that move fast, but can keep up decently with some basic combat and daily activities with minimal difficulty

Habits and Mannerisms: He starts messing with the collar of whatever shirt he is wearing, combing through his hair with his hands, or shaking his legs quite a bit when nervous, or tired

Scent: generic dollar store soap and citrus tea

Attitude: depending on how he is approached, Argent will either take immediately to someone, or give them hell (and has no problem with holding a grudge for quite a while)

Stability: Argent isn’t very emotionally consistent, trying his best to not bother people any further after the accident aside from when he really needs something, or is really excited

Expressiveness: Argent expresses emotions loudly and with vigor, but only the less complicated ones. He tends to hide away after the day is over and beat himself up over small mistakes.

When Happy: smiles a lot to himself, gets louder and moves around a lot more

When Depressed: gets snappish, avoids people, looks and acts tired

When Angry: yells with enough provocation, but is really bad at keeping his anger in check (which usually leads to depressive episodes afterward)

Current Residence: UA dorms

Community: Most keep to themselves, especially the kids from other departments

Friends: Yuni (roomate), Hatsume Mei, Power Loader, Shinsou Hitoshi

Enemies: Monoma Neito, Bakugou Katsuki (both are loud/annoying to him)

Heroes: All Might

Rivals: all of the hero classes no matter the year (although it’s generally more of a friendly sort)

Relates to: Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku, Shinsou Hitoshi

Wardrobe:

Formal – a suit (usually made of a smooth fabric), or dress shirt and skirt on days where he isn’t up to pants

Casual – sweaters and soft solid color tees for tops and leggings and shorts for bottoms

Sleep – sweater/old tee and boxer briefs

Equipment: face mask, sensory augmenting gloves and shoes

Accessories: sunglasses on days where he leaves campus, bracelets and necklaces when he wants to have something to fiddle with

Trinkets: a small, tumbled piece of uncut sapphire kept on a keychain along with his utility knife given to him by his father before he left for UA

Funds: The Nikephoros family is financially stable and comfortable, affording Argent his dorm room and any necessities he needed (all set on a monthly budget)

Home: The dorm room Argent shares with Yuni is a little larger than the single person ones, their respective rooms joined by a door in the middle with their own respective bathrooms and such. Argent’s room is the same color most other rooms are, any and all corners of his furniture covered with buffers for safety. 

Neighborhood: The dorm is situated on the UA campus and is near one of multiple gyms, cafeterias, and multiple other facilities

Transportation: walks most places, will use a wheelchair when out for long periods of time, or in crowded places to help avoid getting lost, or bumped into a lot 

Collections: rocks, crystals, and fabrics (of all different textures, weights, and temperatures

Prized Possession: face mask

Occupation: support department student

Work Ethnic: Argent has problems focusing on things he isn’t innately good at, or will hyper focus and burn himself out over something (no matter how big or small). He is good at getting things done on time, but will put off things that stress him out until the last minute.

Experience: After his quirk manifested, Argent was simultaneously determined to be a ‘hero’ and also give up on that dream. Unfortunately, as a child he had little control over the potency and amount of the compound produced and ended up accidentally injuring multiple people on accident over the years. He became determined to gain better control over his quirk and also to create things for himself that could act as stopgap safeguards in the event of an emergency. He became absorbed in mechanical and chemical research and development and applied to UA academy’s support department in hopes that he could use his interests to help others.

Education: high school second year 

Grade: A-C most classes. B-D physical education and literature

Degrees: Projected future degrees - PHD in Chemistry/Doctorate in education and aerospace engineering

Intelligence: musical

Religion: Agnostic

Crime Record: none

Motivation: stopping himself from hurting people and helping others

Priorities: home, family, safety

Philosophy: scarily optimistic

Etiquette: lacking in many ways

Culture: Argent is the second generation from a mixed-race immigrant family and cannot speak Spanish (was raised in a predominantly English speaking home). 

Influences: After quite literally blinding himself with an uncontrollable power, Argent is set on changing himself. In the years following, he meets other people (including heroes and teachers who encourage him to do his best, or try and discourage him from doing things because of his blindness). He meets Yuni in first year at UA and they become nearly inseparable shortly afterward, egging each other on to their respective goals.

Traditions: sleeping in late on Sundays, making tacos on Tuesday every other week, and celebrating holidays late. Birthdays are christened by cake and an overabundance of new sweaters/trinkets

Superstitions: never looking behind himself more than three times in a row, keeping charms and sigils places he frequents for peace of mind

Main Goal: Getting good enough that he can help kids not get hurt by their quirks the way he did.

Minor Goals/Ambitions: becoming a hero, making enough money to support his family after their retirement, becoming useful to himself

Career: Dream job – a hero, Actual job – support engineer

Desires: To prove that he can save people too

Wishlist: less bulky sensory augmenting support items, a snake/other non-service animal, more sweaters, pineapple juice

Accomplishments: gained control over his quirk, has become able to create his own equipment without help from other people, created a headset that grants him temporary ‘sight’ for a forty five seconds 

Secrets: terrified of failure, wishes he was born quirkless, likes pineapple on his pizza

Regrets: his failure to get first place in the sports festival, his lack of control over his quirk leading to extra bodily damage

Worries: that he will accidentally hurt someone with his quirk, will be abandoned because he is ‘lacking something’ (according to himself), will not be able to save people when it matters most

Best Dream: Becoming a ‘Super Hero’

Worst Nightmare: That he kills someone with his power

Best Memories: building his first invention, getting into UA, getting first place in his second-year sports festival, seeing his parents the summer of first year

Worst Memories: when his quirk manifested, getting labeled a villain-to-be by other kids when he began attending public school for a little before switching back to home school, accidentally flooding the house the first time he had a panic attack and nearly suffocating himself in the process

Hobbies/Interests: sleep, listen to music/make unusual instruments, craft things out of scrap, drink juice/eat sweet things

Skills/Talents: Decently good at solving riddles/word puzzles, really good at solving mechanical/spatial based puzzles, innate talent for solving mechanical malfunctions

Likes: pineapple juice, soft fabrics, sweet things, mint/citrus smells, making tools

Dislikes: super spicy food, denim, buttoned clothing, too much noise/loud sounds, shoes

Pet Peeves: when someone moves his things without permission, incorrect usage of his inventions, being babied because of his disability

Dreams/Nightmares: Graduating, becoming a hero, his cat, drowning, failing (at anything), killing someone/himself because of his power

Quirks: will flap and/or rock when excited or nervous, has a habit of humming/making sounds when focusing on things, will stare in the direction of a sound/person talking without blinking when he is really focused (not to be purposefully creepy, he just does), never wears jeans/things with rough fabric and/or thick seams

Special Interests: Mechanical and chemical physics, hydro/aerodynamics

Can't understand: sports, literature, social expectations

Closet Hobby: collecting rocks/crystals with different textures

Guilty Pleasure: upgrading his current equipment

Strengths: inquisitive, inventive, strong (physically)

Flaws: lack of sight, fear of failure, inability to use his quirk without physical repercussions/safety measures in place

Perception: Argent is good at following emotion and movement through sound, but bad at telling if someone is lying/an area is safe if not assisted in some way..

Conflicts: Trying to become a hero vs. settling for support

Instincts/habits: remove himself from stressful situations, stay up late and sleep in no matter how many alarms are set, copy speech patterns

Soft Spot: Family (Yuni included), his cat, the first years in Support

Cruel Streak: low odds of survival/chance to win, Argent has a tendency to go for a ‘no holds barred’ approach and will quite literally try and destroy anything in his way

Powers/Abilities: Drakon – Ability to secrete an irritant via bodily fluids (Ex. Blood/spit/sweat)

Origin: manifestation of an augmented inherited quirk

Source: Can be activated at will, but once it is activated, it will manifest fully in his mouth (via spit) and branch out to other parts of his body over time along with the slow spread of excess pigment in his skin left over from the compound’s production. (the usual order is saliva, tears, sweat, blood)

Ability: Was nearly uncontrollable in childhood, manifestation being the quirk activating fully everywhere and nearly disintegrating the whole lens area or Argent’s eyes and dealing him permanent bodily damage in the form of blindness and minor asthma when his quirk is not active.

Weaknesses: quirk overuse (leads to asthma attack if the air around him gets too saturated to filter out biologically, eventual skin irritation, lack of sight (cannot respond to visual stimulus)

Immunities: temporary immunity to his own quirk

Restrictions: Cannot use his quirk for over two hours per day, no matter how moderate the use is. Will lead to irritation and breathing issues.

Extra Anatomy: unhinge-able jaw/hyper-flexible facial muscle and skin to account for that range of movement

Favorite Colors: gold

Favorite Animals: cats

Favorite Mythological Creatures: Cerberus

Favorite Places: UA, the dorm gym, his room/work bench 

Favorite Landmarks: Niagara Falls, Mount Everest

Favorite Flavors: strawberry, pineapple, chocolate, mozzarella cheese

Favorite Foods: waffles and pancakes, tacos, string cheese

Favorite Drinks: pineapple juice, water, apple juice, fruit punch 

Favorite Genre: Fantasy

Favorite Movies: Any Ghibli film 

Favorite Games: monopoly, puzzles

Favorite Shows: none

Favorite Songs: Howl’s Moving Castle Main Theme, Spectrum (Florence + The Machine), Santeria (Sublime)

Favorite Sports: Swimming, weight lifting, jogging

Favorite Stores: goodwill/thrift shops

Favorite Subjects: chemistry, mechanical engineering, music

Favorite Numbers: 3, 7,42, 12, 18

Favorite Words: aegis, hedonism, ostensible, parapraxis, interstitial, seven, silver

Least Favorite Colors: red, white

Least Favorite Animals: spiders 

Least Favorite Mythological Creatures: Eris

Least Favorite Places: loud places (ex. Busy malls, restaurants, concerts)

Least Favorite Landmarks: None

Least Favorite Flavors: bitterness, really spicy food

Least Favorite Foods: cucumbers, pudding, cooked spinach, blue cheese

Least Favorite Drinks: coke/Pepsi, tomato juice, dairy milk

Least Favorite Genre: horror

Least Favorite Books: anything just written to be scary

Least Favorite Movies: zombie flicks

Least Favorite Games: Uno, most videogames  

Least Favorite Shows: Supernatural, Say Yes to the Dress, Wheel of Fortune

Least Favorite Songs: Bad Blood, (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction

Least Favorite Sports: American Football, basketball

Least Favorite Subjects: Literature, History

Least Favorite Numbers: 12, 92, 36, 4

Least Favorite Words: useless, incomplete, paroxysm 

Languages: English (birth language and mother tongue), Japanese (learned as a secondary tongue; lacking some fluidity and prowess even after over a year and a half of living in Japan to go to UA)

Voice: mid-range (with a tendency to get shriller the more excited he becomes)

Greetings and Farewells: Hello/Howdy and Bye/Good bye 

Expletive: Damn, gosh darn it (around adults/religious peers)

Laughter: starts with a wheeze, uncontrollable and often scarily loud

Signature Quote: “There’s a difference between being sightless and being blind, you know. Blindness is learned and it seems you are quite adept at being an asshole.”

Reputation: A strange and mechanically prolific support student with a tendency of speaking far too loud for the indoors.

Self-Impression: Argent believes that he is not good enough for what he has, both in material goods and emotional bonds, and is stuck on the idea that he must constantly get better at everything until he is ‘worthy’ of something. He worries that he is a burden.

MBTI Personality Type: INTP-T

Temperament: Melancholic

Enneagram: The Loyalist

Ego/Superego/Id: most driven by his Id, Argent is motivated by his deepest fears and dreams, those of becoming a hero and simultaneously staying for from it in fear of hurting someone with his quirk

Alignment: Chaotic good

Vice: Greed and Envy

Virtue: Diligence 

Intro | Facts | More Art | Aesthetic Board | Quirk

[noahromeroarchives]

But even if we won't admit it to ourselves, We'll walk upon these streets and think of little else. [x]

Noah realized he hadn’t actually had a destination in mind when he and Lia had parted ways. His classes were over, and he was here with his knapsack, still in uniform. The chances of him visiting the common room in the next few hours were extremely slim-- Lia had been headed in that general direction, and he was hardly about to take the chance of appearing in the midst of whatever she was going through. His nerves were too shot to even consider starting on his class work, so he adjusted course from the library, which was across the castle from the Gryffindor Tower and made for the outdoors. Stuffing his robes into the bag, Noah found an empty courtyard and settled onto the stone steps there. He gave himself a moment to listen to the burbling of the fountain as he packed his cigarettes absently against his palm. This wasn’t sitting right with him. He hadn’t expected it to, but today’s wordless farewell had left him with a sense of apprehension he was unfamiliar with. The cigarette hung unlit from his lips for almost a full minute of mute reflection before he could be bothered to light it.

By the time Noah made his way into his dormitory after a few hours in solitude at the library, nearly all of Gryffindor was silent. Whatever was looming at the bottom of his bed gave him a moment’s pause, and he drew close to find a neat stack of sweaters. His sweaters. The quiet seemed to ring in Noah’s ears. Too-quiet. There was no note, no indication that she had even returned the clothing herself, but the finality of it seemed to hit Noah like a bludger to the chest. That was that, accounts were settled, there wasn’t a reason for him to contact her. He placed the sweaters into his trunk, unusually finicky about keeping them as pristine as he’d found them. Figuring it was too late now to put any real thought into it, he tried to get some sleep. Noah stared awake for hours instead, mind unhelpfully flashing through scenario after scenario. Himself apologizing as they stood outside Politics, time turning back in order to do so. Apologizing when he saw her next, or pointedly waiting for her in the common room tomorrow morning so they would have a chance to talk. Even have a blowout fight if they had to, just to clarify precisely what the return of his sweaters meant. He’d known even when he had pretended even to himself that this was just another squabble that would blow over. He knew what it meant when every breath seemed to ache.

Noah would have had to be blind in order to not notice the way his classmates had taken to watching his every move. The abrupt end of Noah and Lia was apparently far more interesting than anything else a fully-restored magical castle and surrounding grounds could possibly offer. There were one or two brave souls who attempted to coerce information out of Noah, though even he couldn’t see why. He had never been a conversationalist, and the fact that he stonewalled each and every question or wayward comment about Lia-- however indirect-- meant that people were quick to keep their inquiries and their opinions to themselves. Even after his own staunch refusal before, Noah found himself disturbing the unspoken seating chart of Politics. Lewis had moved to sit beside him next class, and Noah silently packed up his things and relocated. That sense of guilt last class had become some grim sense of deja vu, and Noah would be damned if he felt it ever again. Lewis seemed to pick up on his intentions, and although she still worked with him in class, didn’t attempt to sit with him again. No one had to ask why Noah felt the need to be left alone. He wasn’t entirely sure that he had an opinion on the matter to voice in the first place, only really identifying a restless sort of curiosity that had him taking note of everyone who was in a room when he entered it. It was partially hopeful, but another part really seemed to want to be miserable. The biggest change he noticed was how much quieter things were. He had time to study and even get in some extra play with the chess club. He tried to pretend it didn’t make him feel lonely. Grace had reached out once, businesslike. The brief conversation left Noah feeling simultaneously better and worse, which he figured sounded about right. His birthday was uneventful, but Noah wouldn’t have had it any other way. Rowan Goode had rather tartly informed him over breakfast one day that Lia was having a party for her birthday, and he could come if he so chose-- Lia certainly didn’t care. Noah had no choice but to accept that as a gracious invitation, but found himself staying in that night. His roommates stumbled home from the party, drunker than skunks. He told himself he’d made a good decision because of how much studying he was able to get done, but the reality that seeing Lia and being drunk seemed like such a lethal combination he was not yet ready to face. He was apparently not yet ready to face her at all, right up until their Defense exam. Halfway through his essay about the Patronus charm, he’d been letting his gaze wander throughout the hall as his mind groped desperately for some word when he settled on Lia. Her shoulders were hunched and she was scribbling furiously away at her own exam. They were seated a few desks apart, with Lia staggered forward. Her hair was up and it caught the sunshine that fell from the high windows. It was an unfortunate time to be reminded that he missed the way she smelled. She was angled just right, so that Noah’s eyes could follow the slope of her nose, the way her lips twisted thoughtfully to the side. The proctor cleared his throat and gave Noah a mistrustful look. Small favor that it wasn’t her who’d seen him just staring like an idiot. Feeling his neck generate enough heat to warm a muggle home all winter, Noah’s chin ducked and he returned to his own essay. He tried very hard not to make any sort of eye contact right up until he arrived at Kings Cross, although being home wasn’t exactly a reprieve.

He had been dreading coming home. Taking a chance on something that had been so uncertain really wasn’t his style and even mentioning a girlfriend to his parents didn’t seem like something Noah would ever do. Now there wasn’t a girlfriend in the picture, Noah still suspected that would be a conversation, too. He shouldn’t have worried. Noah had a new sister to meet, after all. There was a literal precious infant to draw attention from the fact that he was more reserved than usual. He had to suppose Piper was even cute in her own terrifying way. It took Noah nearly a full week to even attempt to hold her. The experience was one he considered on par with defusing a bomb-- you seemed to get used to it.He was convinced he’d given his parents the slip, until, of course, his father cornered him days before Noah was due at his mother’s. “You shouldn’t keep everything all tucked away inside you,” his father advised, guessing rather than being told just what had gone wrong. “Having someone around to open up to can’t be all bad, can it?” Noah, unsurprisingly, didn’t offer any sort of answer to that. By the time he got to his mother’s house, Noah sorely wished for something to do. Half the summer was over, and it really looked like no one was looking to hire seasonal workers mid-season. His was convinced the remainder of the holiday would be spent being largely bored out of his mind, until he was rather forcibly recruited by a cherubic librarian to shelve books at the library. The quiet suited him, and the Dewey Decimal System was straightforward, but didn’t leave him a lot of time to let his mind wander. No Head Boy badge arrived, just his supply list for seventh year, and the fact of it didn’t bother Noah as much as it would have a few months ago. His drive in that line of his life had tapered off significantly. It really wasn’t worth how much he would have had to give in order to show up Cheshire, and even now Noah wasn’t sure they were even still friends.

Noah couldn’t remember a time where he wasn’t excited to go back to school. This year packing his trunk did feel more like a chore than anything else. He told himself there were a multitude of factors involved. He had almost no new materials for his classes. Being halfway through his NEWTs, his classes had been finalized last year and most of the work was just continuing from where they’d stopped. He was already dreading both the courseload and the work that would be waiting for him as a prefect. The student body had quadrupled over the summer, meaning he’d be responsible for that many more patrols. There was nostalgia, too, since it would be his final year. It was hard to get excited about something drawing to an end, wasn’t it? His mother took him to Kings Cross, but only after a breakfast in town in lieu of walking him all the way to the train platform. Neither one of them was big on dramatic goodbyes, so this arrangement suited them both admirably. “Noah! Hi!” His head turned reflexively to the redhead who seemed to appear at his elbow. Dangerously close to it, Noah reflected absently as he thanked himself for not elbowing Lewis full in the face. That’d be a scene he didn’t need, no matter how many passersby were capable of a quick episkey. “Hey, Lewis. What’s up?” Noah asked, taking a step to the side to put the preferred amount of space between himself and the Ravenclaw. He scanned the teeming crowd as she answered, knowing exactly who he was looking for though he was hard-pressed to say why. “...Did you have a nice holiday? I wouldn’t know, since you didn’t call me.” Noah’s brows knit for a moment, focusing on Lewis only to find she had inched a bit closer again. Lia hadn’t been so far off the mark after all. That really sucked. He took another step back, starting the appropriate mental gymnastics to explain why he’d never bothered to call someone he had no interest in. And then his gaze hooked on that familiar face. A deep breath in didn’t do much to remedy the fact that the entire train station felt airless. Noah’s hand lifted to rub absently against his solar plexus. Not a physical ache, he knew, but he could try. Lia drew closer and he felt rather than saw his unwanted companion’s head tilt to assess Lia, and then him, and Lia again. Lewis began to address Lia with the confidence of someone who clearly didn’t care if they lived or died, only to be interrupted mid-greeting. “Piss off.” Noah stared impassively back as Lia strode past. Not surprising in the slightest, but still more subdued than he’d been expecting. He took the opportunity to offer a weak ‘what can you do?’ shrug as a farewell and put some distance between himself and Lewis. He was on the train for want of something to do, managing to direct a few startled looking first years before stowing his belongings in the Prefects’ car. It was fairly deserted-- everyone had people to see before being stowed away for a whole ride’s worth of meetings. Noah didn’t mind the quiet, having discovered he wasn’t in a sociable mood.