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lifeofkaze · 3 years

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When Stars Ignite - Chapter 8

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: Welcome back to Part 2 of the HPHM Rockstar AU! New location, new songs, new drama. Buckle up, we're going for a ride!

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: Language

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Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

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This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell

You keep on saying you'll be mine for a while

You're looking fancy, and I like your style

You drive us wild, we'll drive you crazy

You keep on shouting, you keep on shouting

I wanna rock and roll all night and party every day

~ Kiss - Rock And Roll All Nite ~

Despite it being her third tour with Equinox now, Lizzie would probably never stop being amazed at the incredible machinery that stood behind every single one of their shows.

Now, two weeks after they had started out in London, their route had seen them through Bristol and on to Birmingham. All the familiar routines had established themselves again as if they hadn’t spent a whole month apart at all. Like cogs in a well tuned machine, everyone was working together in well established patterns to make each show unforgettable for those who came to see them play.

It didn’t matter whether one was part of the tech crew, the management, security or the band themselves; they were all like a big, chaotic but loveable family. Of course, Lizzie couldn’t deny that this time around there was considerably more tension to be felt backstage than she was used to, but fights were something happening even in the best of families; at least, that’s what she was telling herself.

Their soundcheck being over, Lizzie had just left the stage with Skye, waiting for the others to catch up. Even though the roof of the arena they were playing in tonight was still closed, Lizzie could feel a bead of sweat running down her spine.

It had been uncharacteristically hot for weeks now, very unusual for a British summer. Not that she was complaining, Lizzie typically loved everything about the hot weather; but the dampness that it brought with it made it almost unbearable to move, setting everyone’s nerves on edge. Hopefully it would just rain soon and be done with it; there was nothing better to clear the air than a good summer storm.

At least for them, however, the heat of the sun would soon be replaced by the spotlights burning down on them. Even after so many years of playing on stages of every size and format, Lizzie had trouble fighting the nervous feeling spreading from her stomach through her body. She was always the first one to enter the stage, the beat of her drums building up the mood until one after the other of her friends would enter and add their own instruments to the sound. As soon as she started playing she was in her element, every flare of nerves forgotten; but until then, she was stuck feeling like in free fall.

Lizzie reached into the pocket of her shorts, her fingers finding the familiar shape of the red plectrum she was always carrying with her. It had belonged to Orion before it had found its way into her possession; it was one of the plectrums he had used on the first tour they had ever played. Without thinking about it, she drew it out and let it wander through her fingers, a fun little trick Orion had taught her to help channel her focus when her stage fright was setting in.

“What’s that you got there, little rockstar?”

Charlie had finished his work on Merula’s keyboard and joined them at the stage entrance. Lizzie hadn’t noticed him approaching and jumped when he spoke, dropping the plectrum to the ground. Before she could pick it up again, Skye had gotten hold of it, turning it around between her fingers with a confused look.

“That looks familiar,” she mused, examining the colourful piece of plastic. “Is that one of our old plectrums?”

Lizzie tried snatching it from her hands but Skye quickly moved it out of her reach.

“No, it’s not, it’s just a lucky charm.”

She could tell Skye didn’t buy her explanation. “Why would you have one of these?”

Lizzie scowled at her friend as she tried in vain to reach Skye’s hand. “None of your business, Parkin. Give it back.”

Skye made an indignant sound as Charlie jumped to Lizzie’s aid; playing out his advantage in height, he unceremoniously plucked the plectrum from Skye’s fingers and handed it back to Lizzie with a wink. Giving him a grateful look, she let it disappear in the depths of her pockets.

“You’re a real spoilsport, Weasley,” Skye snorted.

“And you’re a nuisance,” Lizzie said in Charlie’s stead.

Charlie shook his head. “Hearing you two talk, I might just believe the rumours about your relationship.”

“I do have standards, you know,” Lizzie rolled her eyes, chuckling at Skye’s sound of protest.

Lizzie’s attention was drawn away from their bickering when she saw Orion and Everett were still standing on stage, engaged in a heated discussion. She stifled a sigh; Everett was still at odds with Orion’s decision to perform the new songs himself. There wasn’t one day he would spare them his complaints. Although Everett had always been a person with a temper, Lizzie couldn’t remember him ever being angry at one of them for so long.

Orion, however, wasn’t responding to Everett’s aggressive demeanour. Ever the calm and collected person, it took a lot more for him to lose his centre; Lizzie wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him anything but level-headed at all. And sure enough, even when Everett left him standing with a dismissive gesture, he only looked after him with a tired expression.

In contrast, Everett’s face was clearly showing his annoyance. He tried to hide it behind his usual sneer when he saw them looking, but the way his shoulders were tensed was speaking volumes. His posture only changed when he walked past where Artemis was still working on her explosives. She was bent deeply over the igniter she was wiring, so concentrated on her task she didn’t even notice Everett coming up behind her.

“A little lower, sweetheart. If you have to mess with our pyros, you might as well give us a proper show.”

Artemis straightened up with a face like thunder. “Go fuck yourself.”

Everett shrugged. “I don’t need to, I have plenty of people willing to do that for me. I can bump you up the queue if you like?”

Rolling her eyes, Artemis gathered up her things and moved to the other side of the stage, as far away from all of them as possible.

“Why can’t he just shut up for a second,” Charlie growled as they watched Everett strut off with a self-satisfied smirk. “I’m making no progress with her whatsoever. I’m still trying to convince her that we’re not all dickheads. Ev’s attitude is definitely not helping.

“Is it still so bad with her?” Lizzie wanted to know.

“Yeah,” Charlie admitted, “I don’t know how to get through to her. She’s a tough nut, that one.”

“Tell me about it,” Lizzie said. “I’ve never met anyone so determined to not be nice to anyone.”

“Surprised there’s people out there not wanting to be your friend?” Merula scoffed as she joined them.

“Actually, I am,” Lizzie said. “I even managed to convince you to be my friend, after all.”

“If you want to call us friends,” Merula snorted, but Lizzie knew she was teasing her.

She chuckled and turned to Charlie. “Do you have any idea why she’s so frosty?”

Charlie shrugged, looking as clueless as they came. “If only I knew. She’s giving me no chance to find out either, as soon as the work’s done, she’s off.”

“Sounds like she needs to get a few drinks in to loosen up,” Skye said. “Probably much easier to handle her then.”

Charlie looked at her incredulously. “You do realise how creepy that sounds, right?”

“Don’t be stupid, you know what I mean,” Skye rolled her eyes, “but seriously, who says no to a free drink and some good company?”

Charlie watched Artemis work her way through the remaining igniters. He didn’t seem convinced by Skye’s suggestion but shrugged anyway. “Might as well give it a shot at this point, but if she bites me, I’ll hold you accountable.”

***

Just like the weather forecast had promised, the temperatures hadn’t dropped one bit until it was time to enter the stage. And even if a cooling breeze would be blowing outside, it would stand no chance of reaching the fired up masses filling up the arena.

Lizzie wasn’t sure where it was warmer, down between the thousands of people singing along to their music, or up with them on stage where the heat of the spotlights made her wish for a cold shower.

They were already halfway through the setlist and as always, time seemed to be racing by.

Their fans were fantastic tonight as well; the arena was sold out up to the last seat and the crowd was incredibly enthusiastic. They were reacting to every prompt they were given, whether it was a challenge to cheer louder, sing along or clap to the beat. It was shows like these that reminded Lizzie time and time again that she had the best job in the world.

Everett was giving a stellar performance tonight; he had the whole stadium wrapped around his little finger like only he could, and the fans were cheering him on as he stepped back from the microphone to join the sound of his guitar with the rest of them.

Lizzie turned her head to Orion, who was already waiting for her to give him his cue. She counted down the remaining beats in her head before she gave him a nod. When he turned his attention from her and began playing his solo part, Lizzie couldn’t help but grin. The people were screaming themselves into a frenzy as Orion worked his magic on his guitar.

He never planned what he was going to do beforehand, not one solo the same as the day before. His brow was furrowed in concentration and his lips ever so slightly parted as his fingers flew up and down the neck of the guitar. In moments like these, everything else faded into the background for him; there was nothing left but him and his music.

As Lizzie watched his fingers dance with dizzying speed, her flushed skin burned at the memory of what other magic they were able to do. The thought almost made her miss a beat.

Almost.

She caught herself at the last moment before anyone could notice. She was glad everyone else was too busy to see the blush spreading on her face. But even if they had, they would never have suspected that it didn’t come from the incredibly high temperatures, but something else entirely.

The song ended with a bang, Lizzie hitting two cymbals and the bass drum at the same as KC let all the spotlights flare up. Almost blinded by the brightness flooding the stage, Lizzie closed her eyes and dipped her head back, breathing heavily. For a fraction of a second, the fading sound of the music was still hanging in the air, everyone holding their breaths, before it gave way to the cheers erupting from the crowd.

Lizzie smiled to herself, waiting for her racing heart to slow, before setting her mind onto the rhythm of the next song. The crowd was still cheering and she waited a moment longer until everyone was ready and Orion had stepped behind his own microphone. The next song was one of the unpublished ones and even two weeks after striking their deal with the label, Orion hadn’t let Everett sing one single verse of them.

Lizzie took a deep breath and set the rhythm by hitting her drumsticks against each other a few times. Luckily, it was one of the slower songs so they all had the chance to calm down a little. Orion’s melodic voice carried into the vast space of the stadium over the hushed crowd and Lizzie felt a shiver run down her spine; she had loved this song from the first time Orion had let her hear it.

The crowd seemed to share her opinion; many had taken out their phones and lit the screens, waving them through the darkness in what was looking like a sea of stars. It wasn’t quite the same sight as it had been when lighters had still been allowed in the auditoriums, but Lizzie was loving the sight nonetheless.

All of the new songs they had played so far had been very well received. They made sure to switch them every night so no one got too overexposed, but whatever ones Orion chose, they were always met with great enthusiasm.

The only unrecorded song they were playing night after night was, much to everyone’s surprise, not one of Orion’s creations. Even after Orion had given his consent, Everett hadn’t stopped pestering Ethan until he had agreed to give a few of Everett’s songs a shot. Most of them weren’t nearly as well liked as the ones Orion hadn’t even finished yet, but there was one song that had instantly become so popular with their fans that Ethan had decided to make it a permanent addition to the set list for the rest of the tour.

Everett had revelled in his triumph over Orion; at least that’s how he saw it. And Lizzie had to admit that it really was a catchy melody. But much to Everett’s dismay, whenever Orion picked up his guitar and did what he did best, all eyes were on him, and him alone. He was pouring his heart and soul into the music he played, and people could tell. Like the Pied Piper, he commanded everyone’s attention without even trying to.

That was probably what angered Everett most; the fact that Orion wasn’t even trying.

Even now, Everett was scowling darkly at Orion as he was singing the song in Everett’s stead. Lizzie tried to concentrate on keeping a steady beat, but her eyes were drawn back to their frontman’s menacing expression.

She couldn’t help the feeling that a storm was coming.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #orion amari #skye parkin #merula snyde #charlie weasley #artemis hexley #lizzie jameson #rockstar au #when stars ignite #wsi #besties collaborate

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enmy-writes · 3 years

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My Rock Star

Request: Anon: hii can i request a zuko x reader fic where the reader is in a famous girl group (like blackpink for example) & the whole gaang is backstage while the reader is getting ready for a performance & its just super fluffy & cute? Thanks!!

Word Count: 2,646

Fandom: ATLA (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Pairing: Zuko x Fem!Reader

Genre: All fluff. It’s some nice fluff time

Rated: 18+

Content Warnings: swearing, mentions of abuse (not detailed though), suggested themes but nothing bad

****My first request!! Sorry, anon, if I didn’t capture everything you wanted, but I hope it is! I am a sucker for music and bands, and instead of a blackpink approach, I gave the band instruments because I simp for instruments lol I might do a part 2 if this turns out well so lmk! Also, I learned how to make the “keep reading” line show up so that’s exciting yay me. Enjoy :)****

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It was about two hours before the show was supposed to start and Y/N was doing her normal self-routine before she had to go to her ‘Band-Team-Gang’ (or BTG as her and the girls liked to call it) pre-show rituals.

Y/N was a part of a famous girl group who had just recently started making it big in Ba Sing Se and were on their first huge tour. Normally, this would make any performer nervous of the attention and putting on a big show, but this was the environment that she thrived in.

Suki, Mai, Ty Lee, Azula, Yue, and herself all knew each other from an all-girl’s private school that they grew up in together and bonded immediately over their love for creating music. It was inevitable for them to become a group.

They spent most of their high school days writing songs and joking around in Y/N’s backyard bungalow her parents had gotten her for her twelfth birthday. To this day, they still go back there and do hot (dumb) girl shit.

“Why would we stop? That’s our home, of course we’d still go back there!” Ty Lee answered the interviewer with her signature hair flip and giggle.

Azula rolled her eyes at the girl, hiding a fond smile. “At this point, It’d be weird not to go back to that little corner of hell we made.” Yue smacked her arm quickly, “Azula! Don’t act like you haven’t written most of our top hits in the bean bag we definitely didn’t steal from the school lounge.”

The rest of the girls laughed, remembering how they had to hop the gates and sneak past the night guards to be able to get the bean bag. The plan would’ve been a total waste of time and definitely would have gotten them all expelled if anyone had caught them, but thank Mai’s ability to pick locks (which no one knows where she learned to do but they do not question it).

“Plus,” Suki chimed in. “Y/N’s dad makes the best snacks and meals for us. It’d be a federal crime to not take up that offer for as long as we can.”

Needless to say, the six girls were so comfortable with each other that every performance was just like every group practice with, like, thousands of extra guests of honor. They even have a couch lounge area as part of their stage set props. It just makes sense.

Even though those were her best friends ever, sisters even, Y/N had another friend group that she was super close with. Azula had introduced Y/N to her brother, Zuko, back when they were in their sophomore year of high school and the two instantly clicked. It had only taken a year of being friends and hiding crushes for them to get together, and the two were still going strong. Through him, Y/N met a gang of (crazy) people that he had spent his whole public schooling years.

Aang, an enthusiastic and bald, vegan kid who loved life and enjoyed everything around him; Katara, his pre-med and feminist girlfriend; Sokka, her hilarious and amazingly smart brother (though, sometimes his ideas are questionable); and Toph, a blind and tough girl who is on her way to ruin the top 1%. With Zuko, they were the tightest and happiest little family that automatically accepted Y/N when Zuko brought her over one night.

She was there when he went through a pyromaniac phase, his varying hair styles, and when he tried to get his father’s love back.Ozai, their father, was the owner and CEO of a massive weapons corporation. He had burned Zuko’s face on a hot stove and kicked him out of the house for suggesting that he raise the wage of all his employees to a comfortable living wage because many of his employees struggled to provide for their families even though they worked their asses off. Thankfully, his kind Uncle Iroh instantly picked the boy up off of the streets, letting him live with him and run his successful tea shop called the Jasmine Dragon.

Azula had been shoved away by her father mostly for sexist reasons. Ozai would never pass his company down to his daughter, no matter how smart and dedicated she was. He threw her in the private school where she lived year round. She had never told Y/N or any of the other girl’s any of this, Y/N had found out through Zuko.

Y/N’s mother was a successful lawyer and her father was a district attorney who were very very passionate about bringing justice to those of racial discrimination, domestic abuse, abuse in general, and orphan rights. Her mother was an orphan who was plain lucky to get adopted by a loving old couple who used their life savings to get her the education and life she deserved while her father was a victim of domestic abuse.

So, after months of convincing Zuko, Y/N told her parents about the two siblings. Long story short, they got Ozai arrested for his abuse crimes, bribery history, employee mistreatment, and many more crimes. They also adopted Azula herself and gave full custody of Zuko to his uncle.

Since then, the world has been peaceful for the group. Azula has started to recover from her trauma with the help of her friends, therapy, and love from two caring adults; and Zuko was glowing year round in the company of his uncle and friends.

A smile forms on her face, thinking of her large family and all they’ve gone through to get here, when the door to her personal backstage room opened up. The loud voices from Aang and Sokka met her ears next.

“I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOU REMEMBERED THE HAM SANDWICHES WITH NO CRUST.” A kiss to her cheek and Sokka is instantly at her snack table.

“Y/N! How’d you know I was going to bring Appa and Momo?!” Aang walked his huge, white dog and lemur (don’t ask how he has it. It might be illegal, but no one can tell him no) to the pet bed corner she had put in.

Not answering them, Y/N just smiles at her friends who barged in and turns back to her mirror where she’s trying to decide her earring combination for the day. Warm arms snake their way around her waist, a body sliding up against her back soon after.

“What’s your ideas for tonight?” Zuko’s voice speaks quietly into her ear, causing her to hum and lean back against his chest slightly.

“I’m not sure. We’re going for the edgy look tonight, but we all know Ty Lee is still going to wear pink. Man, our manager is going to kill her...again.” They both laugh. “Ugh, why did you let me pierce my ears, like, ten times. There’s too many combinations to choose from!”

“Me?! I did-- never mind. Just grab a handful, no one can see them from the stage anyways.” Despite his attempt to seem like he doesn’t care, one of his ring-clad fingers starts moving his favorite pieces over into a little pile by themselves. Y/N rolls her eyes and starts putting his choices in random holes in her ear, pushing him back lightly so she can bend over closer to the mirror to see better.

“It’s the fit Zu… if the fit is a vibe, the confidence is there. If the confidence is there, nothing can stop my hot girl shit.” Her words cause him to let a huff of jealousy, flicking her arm playfully.

Their eyes meet in the mirror, and he can clearly see the mischief in them. Calming down, he jokes back. “Yeah, well, you may do your ‘hot girl shit,’ but no one can steal you from me. We’ve been here too long.”

Toph cuts in from across the room with a loud laugh. “Please, fire brains, I could steal Y/N if I tried.”

He whips around to face the short girl, “No you could not!!”

“Actually, she makes a point.” Katara says, nodding along in hopes to pick fun at the boy.

Sokka adds his two cents. “Honestly. Toph would just have to pick Y/N up and slam her against the wall or something and she’d tell her manager to send you a letter of resignation.”

The whole group laughs, save for the angsty boy, and Y/N wraps her hand around his wrist. She pulls him towards her and reaches for a peck on the cheek. “While that may be true,” she gets a glare. “I’m too big of a simp for you… and Uncle Iroh’s dinner and game nights.”

While the rest of them laugh, Zuko’s eyes soften and he presses his lips to hers in a short, soft kiss. Uncle Iroh adores his girlfriend and everything she has done for Zuko and Azula where he had no power to do anything. The man calls her more than he does Zuko himself, and he’s pretty sure Y/N convinced him to download Words With Friends on his phone to play with her for when she can’t make it to the weekly game night dates.

Y/N smiles up at him and pats his cheeks lovingly before moving to the wardrobe area of her room. She pulls out ‘Cards Against Humanity’ from a duffle bag on the floor before joining the rest of her friends around the lounge area, patting the seat beside her for Zuko to join them.

Everyone cheers at the sight of the black and white box with the many expansion packs that they have collected over the years. While Katara deals, everyone else makes bets on who is going to win this time. Y/N slides back into Zuko’s side as his arm comes to rest around her shoulders, playing with the ends of her H/L hair.

It’s about fifty minutes before the show is starting, and Y/N knows she has to start getting dressed and ready for the concert. Sighing, she slips from her boyfriend’s grasp (a small whine coming from him) and moves to her dressing corner. Suki, Ty Lee, Mai, Azula, and Yue had made their way to the room shortly after they started due to Sokka texting his girlfriend (Suki) to come over and join.

The rest of the girls notice you get up and leave as well, much to everyone else’s dismay. You reassure them to keep playing a few more rounds, not wanting to ruin their fun with you putting clothes on. Y/N quickly shoves her outfit choice on which is very hot, black, and riddled with chains. To top it off, she had thick-heeled combat boots on with numerous buckles on them. Her hair, makeup, and accessories have already been done so she heads back to the group.

‘Cards Against Humanity’ has been packed up neatly and her friends are lounging around, getting last minute snacks and quality time before they go to their special seats right in front of the stage. Nothing but the best for her friends. Sokka and Katara are the first people to see her, and the former lets out his own wolf whistle in his own way to hype Y/N up.

“DAMN, my best friend is HOT AS HELL. Zuko, you lucky ass man.” Katara hits him, but shoots her a wink as the rest of the gang look over. Y/N laughs giddily through their praises and hyped words (Toph in good spirit rather than actually seeing her outfit), as she makes her way back to her spot on the couch.

Zuko, who hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her yet, quickly grabs her bare waist and tugs her onto his lap to hold her tight. “So… this is what you meant by ‘hot girl shit.’” Letting out a loud laugh, Y/N turns her head and gives him a quick kiss. “I’m a rock star, baby, what can I say.”

Aang cheers out of nowhere. “Yes! I’ve always wanted to be a groupie!” More laughter and jokes ring throughout the room, keeping the atmosphere as light as always,

A knock at the door interrupts them. A man is standing there in all black with a headset on and a sleek, red (with little sparkles that only gleam in the light), electric guitar carefully caressed in his hands. While they are a girl group, their success has mainly come from being a girl group who also plays all their instruments. With Mai on the drums, Ty Lee on the keyboard, Azula and Y/N on electric guitars, Yue on the acoustic guitar, Suki on the bass; the band is truly a sight with all of them sharing the vocals and their enthusiastic (near crackhead) energy that give their crowd a good show.

“Miss L/N? This is your five minute warning.” He tells them, not bothered by the usual group of people who are constantly in these rooms with her.

“Thanks Lee!” Y/N hops up to get her pride and joy (her child as Suki and Mai like to joke about). “I’ll be right out.”

Knowing these are the last pre-game minutes, everyone starts getting up to leave the room as well. Zuko lingers by Y/N who’s busy making sure her instrument is tuned perfectly for the numbers she’s about to perform.

“I can feel you staring, Zu,” She smiles, still looking down at her strings. He huffs out a laugh, reaching out to push a piece of hair back to see her face.

“Good luck out there, my rock star. Don’t do too much hot girl shit.”

“Oh, I’m doing all the hot girl shit.” A glare. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding… unless…?” She laughs at his fed up face. Reaching up, she presses one last, lingering kiss to his lips, enjoying the feeling of his fingers clutching her sides firmly and the feeling of his heart beat under her palm that’s resting on his chest.

“Bye, love. I’ll see you after the show.” She whispers, sealing the promise with a kiss before moving back. “Alright kids! Get the hell out of my dressing room.” Y/N shouts at her friends and they all leave together, laughing away.

The rest of them wish her luck before moving away, Sokka sprinting to find Suki one last time. Zuko holds onto her free hand, watching her laugh at ‘Simp Sokka’ with his small smile on his face. He kisses her hand, pulling her attention back to him.

“Bye, rock star. I’ll see you after the show. Break a leg, yeah?” His cliche words make her laugh more, pulling away from him and towards the rest of her band who are chanting “BTG! BTG!”.

“Zu… I don’t break legs. I break hearts.” And with one last mischievous look, she mouths ‘hot girl shit’ and struts away in that way that makes Zuko want to make her cancel the show completely.

His phone buzzes a few minutes after he caught up with his friends in their special closed off section on the floor. He opens the notification and it sends him to Instagram where Y/N had tagged him in a post. The smile grows on his face with every second he takes in the post.

Katara must’ve taken the picture. The angle, lighting, and quality could only be done by her. Y/N was on his lap, dressed to go on stage. Zuko’s mouth was almost touching her ear, definitely when he was whispering to her, and her face was wide in a smirk. They looked good, perfect even. The caption is what made him laugh, warmth and pride that she is his spreading through his chest.

“Y/N_L/N: for him? I’m always on my hot girl shit”

#zuko #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #avatar zuko #atla x reader #atla #fanfic #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla fanfic #alta x reader #atla x you #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #x reader #enmy-writes atla

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clearsky · 3 years

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My Top Comfort Characters/Kins and My Main HCs For Them

(Note, not all my kins/comfort characters are on here, just the ones I have more than 5 hcs for)

CW: Korekiyo Shinguji (DRV3), Himiko Yumeno (DRV3), Shinsou Hitoshi (BNHA), Kyoko Kirigiri (THH), Tsuyu Asui (BNHA), Entrapta (Spop), Ibuki Mioda (SDR2), Celestia Ludenberg (THH), Funtime Foxy (FNAF), Peril (WOF)

Korekiyo Shinguji (DRV3)

Nonbinary

He/They pronouns

Autistic

Chains and loose accessories are for stimming

Likes the feeling of silk and cotton

Can't stand the feeling of anything rough or bumpy

He likes collecting small trinkets and the bones of small mammals

Can't stand anything salty. He'll eat it but he certainly won't enjoy it

Dating Rantaro

Can flirt, but only if he doesn't try

Petnames are a hell yea

Gets sunburnt really easily

Group dates with Celesnaegiri and Ikuzono

Can't cook for s h i t

Had a scene kid phase in middle school

Went to the same middle school as Celeste and Maki

Knew them when Celeste went through her "I'm not like other girls" phase and Maki was a Band Kid™

Himiko Yumeno (DRV3)

Female

She/Her pronouns

Lesbian

Can force herself to fall asleep within seconds regardless of where she is

100% forces herself to fall asleep when she doesn't wanna listen/talk to someone

Himiko/Angie/Tenko relationship. I'm calling them the Traffic Light Trio

She likes taking naps in the forest

She prefers enclosed/tight spaces more than open ones

Has several hundred stress balls and squishies laying around

She overheats easy

Shinsou Hitoshi (BNHA)

Questioning his gender, but goes by any pronouns

Knows he's Asexual, at least

Has no clue what his romantic orientation is though

The kind of person to carry treats in his pocket just in case he runs into a cat

Will stop to pet literally every cat he comes across

Great at reading people

Doesn't talk unless it's 100% needed

Hangs with Tokoyami, Jirou, and Denki most often

Aizawa has 100% unofficially adopted him

Fosters kittens

Not a big fan of physical touch

He is 100% in the bakusquad. Anyone who says he's in the Dekusquad is a c o w a r d

He and Tsuyu vibe

Knows a bunch of random facts

Dark humour? Dark humour

*skates backwards into his therapist's room slowly sipping from an absurdly huge cup of coffee* Candice you're not gonna BELIEVE the shit I just went through

In case I forgot to mention it, he skates

Kyoko Kirigiri (THH)

Mtf

She/Her

Bi with female preference

Burns go up to her shoulders/collarbone/chest

Prefers to just listen as opposed to saying anything

Knows a ton of random trivia about everyone else in her class

She keeps a notebook she fills with all the trivia

Doesn't celebrate her birthday. She just doesn't see the point of it

Doesn't hate sugar/sweets, but if given the choice she would choose literally everything else

Cuts her own hair

A cat person

Permanent dark circles

T-Tall 😳

Like,,, 6'1 at LEAST

Only person taller than her is Yasuhiro (6'3)

Canon no longer exist

Ahahaha healthy life habits? What are those?

Can't handle horror games

She's the kind of person you'd go to if you needed to rant but didn't want any advice

Polyamourous yo

Celeste/Kyoko/Makoto

She's a dom yall are just scared to admit it

Tsuyu Asui (BNHA)

They go by They/Them

Lesbian

They and Ochaco are dating

They like to hang with Shinsou

Which mainly just means the two sitting in one of their dorms in near total silence doing whatever

Can speak English and French as well as Japanese

Learned English from cartoons

Picked up French bc they thought it'd be fun

Prefers to stay neutral in the whole Bakusquad / Dekusquad thing

They're invited to all outings/events by/for both squads

They like puns

They're a dumbass but willingly, and for fun

Like "someone says they like dark humour and they'll turn off the lights before telling a joke" kind dumbass for fun

Great at poker

Likes Disney Movies

Very touchy once you get close enough

Not in a sexual way, just likes physical contact

Especially fond of piggyback rides and cuddles

Extreme fear of needles

Entrapta (She-Ra)

She/Her or It/Its

Doesn't bother trying to figure out whether she's cis, trans, nonbinary, or what

Was AMAB though

Short as fuck (4'7)

Strong as fuck though

Cuddle game strong

Physical touch is a fuck yes

Cuddles

Piggyback rides

Hugs

Anything where she's touching someone is wonderful in her book

As long as she's the one that initiates it

Anyone else touching her without her permission makes her freak

Prefers being high up

Makes it harder for anyone to sneak up on her

An ace at video games

When it comes to sexuality she just says she's Questioning

Ibuki Mioda (SDR2)

Any pronouns + Pup/Pupself + It/Its

No idea what their gender is otherwise

Biromantic Asexual

Just likes sexual jokes

Gets distracted easily

Has severe hearing problems

She's plays her instruments as loud as possible, with the amp right next to her, without ANY ear protection

It's caused some damage

She talks so loud bc she has no idea how loud is considered acceptable

Wears hearings aids most of the time

Several piercings and tattoos

Likes hearing things jingle

She has a bracelet with a few bells hanging from it

She'll shake it whenever she's bored

LOVES hair accessories

Ribbons are a particular favourite

Occasionally she'll hang little charms from her hair "horns"

The kind of person who never takes any pills/medicine bc she keeps forgetting she has to

Frequently uses emojis

Skates everywhere but she isn't very good at it

She keeps crashing into everything

Has broken every bone in her body at least 3 times

Most of which was bc she keeps trying to kick in doors and skating down the stairs

Celestia Ludenberg (THH)

Nonbinary

Any pronouns, mainly goes by She/They

Bi, 70:30

Collects mini hand sanitizers and can tabs

Has single handedly gotten Mario Kart, Mario Party, Monopoly, Uno, and Clue banned a grand total of 17 times (and counting)

The kind of person to purposefully target someone regardless of what game was being played

Favourite victim is Byakuya (bc he gets so upset about it and she finds that hilarious)

Mains Waluigi

Celeste/Kyoko/Makoto

Has several banned Twitter accounts bc whenever she's bored she'll start discourse on purpose

Hangs with Korekiyo, Ibuki, Byakuya, Yasuhiro, and Leon most often

It's a weird friend group but everyone's sorta gotten used to it

She and Byakuya gamble together occasionally

She tries to avoid it bc he'll willingly blow his entire fortune in an attempt to beat her

Autustic

Can't stand the feeling of water

Mainly bc she can't swim for shit

Horror movies? Hates them

Gets flustered super easily

Taka is her twin brother

Kotoko, Kokichi, and Gundham are their half siblings (Same father)

Peko and Toko are their cousins

She sucks ass at go fish

Fuck canon she's 4'11 now

C h u b b y

Freckles

Once she gets comfortable enough with herself she dyes her hair in the peekaboo style

Either black and red or black and blonde

Haven't decided yet

I'll be doing Celesnaegiri hcs as a seperate post but I just feel it's important for you to know that she expresses her affection verbally and is a very touchy person

Went to middle school with Maki and Korekiyo

Has horrible eyesight

She wears contacts most of the time but she always puts off buying more

After the 5th or so time she ended up blindly stumbling around a week after her contacts ran out Kyoko convinced her to buy glasses as well

Religious accessories yo

Like chokers and dangly earrings with crosses and pentagrams and shit

Likes wearing wacky earrings

Can run and do all sorts of tricks in heels

She and Mukuro are exes yo

Keeps her hair short so it's easier to manage

Hair never gets longer than her shoulders if she can help it

She seems like the kind of person who'd keep her bangs grown past her eyes regardless of how frustrating or inconvenient it is

She's a sub yall just don't wanna admit it

Funtime Foxy (FNAF)

I'm going on the record to say this

Funtime Foxy is genderfluid and that is that

Goes by Funtime

Any pronouns, They/Them most commonly

Plays music (keyboard and guitar mainly)

They and Funtime Freddy (Freds) mainly play with the kids

Freds mainly tells stories with Bonbon while Funtime more so plays one-on-one

Has nicknames for everyone

Circus Baby - Ringleader

Ballora - Bells

Funtime Freddy - Partner

Bon Bon - Bun

Peril (WOF)

I like both Nonbinary She/They Peril and Mtf She/Her Peril

They're both such good concepts

She's a lesbian, Harold

She only had a crush on Clay bc he was pretty much everything she was supposed to like in a guy

Gimme a moment while I force all my mental disorders onto this poor child

Autistic, Anxiety (Social anxiety, mainly, but she has most types), Adhd, PTSD

I'd like to reiterate yet again that She's a lesbian

Sunny and Glory were her gay awakening

Peril in Book 1: Damn, Sunny and Glory sure are pretty. Anyone would be lucky to date them. Clay would probably go for them over me. He would be stupid if he didn't. I myself would willingly date them over someone like me. They're just so pretty :(

Peril waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of arc 2: WAIT-

Rarepair alert but Peril/Sora

Peril meeting Sora: "Hmmm She's attractive. I would love to date her. Too bad I'm straight and in love with her brother lmao :P"

Peril, a mere month later, waiting for Ruby to leave Jade Mountain, pacing in her cave, running face first into a wall: WAIT-

I remember reading this one amazing story where Sora taught Peril to read/write and Peril found out she set off the bomb and comforted her/convinced her her run so that's canon now

Btw if anyone can remember what that story was called/what platform it was on and could tell me I'd appreciate it very much

I'd even be willing to draw a character of your's or make you an icon or something

I usually don't accept requests bc I get burnt out easy but this is a special case

She runs into Sora again sometime between the beginning of TOP and the end

I like to imagine she just goes wandering around

Anyway she confesses like a mere few minutes after running into her again bc Peril is just subtle like that

The actual confession takes 15 minutes and the entire time Sora is just sitting here like "👁👄👁 sure"

Bam Peril/Sora

Peril plans to keep it a secret for a little while longer but she spends 3 seconds around Clay and pretty much blurts it out

Clay, who wasn't even aware that Peril was a lesbian, is just "👁👄👁"

I wanna say Clay doesn't know what a lesbian is but in my canon Sunny is a lesbian so Starflight has already told him

Anyway he's super supportive

From that point Peril is sorta open about her sexuality?

Like, she gives Clay permission to tell the rest of the D.O.D bc she isn't about to risk being in front of them when they hear the news

(When Sunny starts actively seeking her out as a hang out buddy and Tsunami, Glory, and Starflight appear to tolerate her presence just a bit more afterwards she pretends she isn't confused by the change)

She's pink, white, and blue bc I said so

If you look at a certain angle in the right lighting her eyes, mouth, fire, and under her scales all look purple

But her fire is normally white and blue bc I said so

Also she pale as fuck bc in my canon their fire just sorta burns their colour away

You know how you leave something outside for too long and it gets sunbleached? Where it gets all washed out?

Like that but more extreme

By the age of 10-12 firescale dragons are just white with pale eyes

That's right not even the eyes are safe

Ram horns :P

I'm also fond of Peril/Sunny

Or maybe Peril/Sora/Sunny

But Peril/Sora is the main thing

On the topic of that bringing in my hc that if one sib in a sib group is fire resistant all of them are

She,,, She can change her scale colour

But only slightly and only if her emotions are strong enough

Bc I don't give a fuck about Darkstalker's scroll we were robbed of hybrid Peril

Unfortunately all of Peril's emotions are strong

Rainwing ruff along her head and neck

It's like a hood

It's mainly smoothed to her sides but when she's startled it flares out

RAINWING PUPILS

Y'all will know what those look like as soon as I get off my ass :P

She,,, She can mimic bird cries

Hates the summer

She has more than enough body heat already and the outside is just hot enough to add on and make her feel sick

She can somewhat control her heat but most of the time it's based on her emotions

It can go from standing-in-the-middle-of-a-burning-building-cant-see-your-nose-smoke-is-so-thick heat (Strong emotion) to Hey-thats-a-nice-cozy-campfire heat (Calm/"weak" emotion/Sleeping)

I'm just gonna make a different post with all my Peril hcs cuz there isnt enough room for all of them here

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tarithenurse · 3 years

Text

Nightingale - 45

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Hatake Kakashi &/x Fem!OC Contents: Fluff, fun, feels, drinking, angst, Might Gai (that’s a warning in it’s own but not a lot of him, sorry). A/N: I’m not back on full power yet, so please be patient for a while longer. However! Things ARE going better (not quite enough to proof read, though). ASK or REBLOG for tag! HUUUGE thanks to all who are reblogging already <3

Ch. 45

Things were simpler a year ago, Kakashi decides. He has already picked up on the movement of the near-undetectable approaching man and the white-haired ninja’s first instinct is to want to slip away before he’s discovered. It’s been a long time, though, since he’s indulged in the odd friendship.

Ignoring time needed to sleep, 50% of Kakashi's time is spent either training or doing missions with Team 7, 20% or so are his own missions and another 20% an attempt at spending quality time with Uguïsu or working on the house – he’s gotten to the point of furnishing the place now and is quite pleased with the results so far. Right now, he’d stolen a rare moment leaded against his favourite tree in quiet contemplation of his favourite novel.

“HaHA!” Gai lands in a perfect combat pose, the tactical vest unable to cover the taught, green fabric beneath. “Finally our paths have crossed, eternal rival!”

Unfazed, Kakashi nods. “It seems so.”

For a while, none of the men speak as each pretend to be fully engrossed in reading or stretching. Well, the physical exercises are performed to perfection but much like before the interruption not a leaf is turned in the book and eventually it catches Gai’s attention.

“What troubles you? Are you afraid my wondrous team will defeat yours?”

Hyuga Neji will be a problem. “I admit that your team has its strengths but thankfully that’s not my problem just now.”

Getting to his feet, the captain of Team 7 turns towards the village while tugging the book away in a pocket – it’s the same pocket where a thin, circular instrument rests at the moment. He’s torn between heading back to the house to get some gardening done (not a task he’s used to doing in his free time) or stopping by a certain woman’s apartment again in the hopes that she’s returned.

“No! Not a word, dear friend.” Gai’s hand is warm and strong as it misses Kakashi’s shoulder by a few centimetres. “I recognize your agony. Oh, true love! The noblest of torments during the springtime of our youth!”

Kakashi bites back a groan. “I’m not agonizing and -”

“Don’t be shy, Hatake,” the friend insists. “We all know she turned down your proposal, but don’t worry because I will help you win the fair maiden’s heart!”

“Pro-? I didn’t propose!”

“Ah-ah! Here’s what you do...”

...

At some point during Gai’s lessons about gifts, walks during sunsets and the magic of starry nights, Asuma and Iruka had joined them and moved the conversation from the street to a gloomy bar. A variety of sake had been had until the Academy teacher had dozed off in the corner of the booth, snoring lightly in unison with Gai.

“I’m juss saying,” Asuma tries to explain stubbornly, “that however daunting it might sheem now...it’sh gonna be worth it.”

I know. The problem isn’t to convince me. But rather than point that out (again), Kakashi slips an arm around his team’s former teacher. “It’s getting late, Asu...let’s get these guys home.”

Gai stirs as he too is being manhandled outside like a sack of rice slung over the back. “Weeee...” the mumble fades out for a moment, “we-we-we’ll...tell her!”

“Please don’t.” Just the thought makes Kakashi’s cheeks burn hotter than the alcohol had achieved. “You just get home now and forget about all of this.”

By the time those too drunk for their own good are safely home and Kakashi unlocks the door to his little apartment, the stars are starting to fade in the horizon. It’s been a much longer night than anticipated...not to mention that it’s been spent in different company too.

Because of that, he’s happy to feel the breeze rush past his toes as he enters and closes the door. It tugs softly in his hair with invisible fingers of cotton that are capable of brushing away any worries.

“Hey there,” he whispers, knowing that Uguïsu will hear him, “missed me so much you had to come find me?”

Corporeal hands reach around to pull him close – chest to back, and her nose nudging the offending layers of black cloth away from his neck until there’s room to place a kiss.

“Mmmmaybe.” The smile is a teasing brush against the little while hairs. “Smells like you weren’t suffering alone.”

Managing to turn, he gets distracted for a moment and has to kiss the blue hair. “Not alone...but still suffering.”

“Liar.”

“I really did miss you.”

Big eyes find his before the woman shifts her attention to his gear. Kakashi has been wearing it all day, so he doesn’t object but helps as she unzips the vest. Layer by layer falls away until he’s wearing just underwear and all of his scars are clearly visible like red or white ridges and lines that barely react when Uguïsu’s fingertips trace them and set off waves of goosebumps.

“Why does it only feel okay, when you’re around, ‘Kashi?”

Not sure that he has heard the whispered question correctly, the jonin catches her chin with a finger and tilts her face up. “What do you mean?”

She snakes free of his loose hold. “It’s...” she bites her lip while searching for the words, “I like my place. And I like this place. But...only when you’re there too. It’s a bit better here because it smells of you, though.” Catching a strand of blue, she begins to wrap it around one of her fingers and Kakashi recognizes it as a sign of nervousness. “Prob-probably me being weird, I guess, and that why -” now, even her toes are digging into the floor as if she’s trying to dig a way out that way -”I’ve been..kinda...just sometimes...when you’re not here...”

The voice that normally holds the confidence of a songbird has dwindled and is barely audible anymore. Whatever it is...this is big. Gently, Kakashi guides the wreck of a girl over to the bed and sits with her. Waiting. Waiting for whatever it is she’s trying to understand.

Outside, the horizon basks in colours of red and orange as the morning tries to chase the night away but the world itself is still greys and the birds haven’t woken up yet.

But my Nightingale is going to pass out unless she breathes calmly, soon. “Sweetheart,” he catches Uguïsu's attention, “breathe. Whatever it is, I’m there for you.”

She does as he asks, releasing a shaky breath at the feeling of her lungs filling. Or maybe the situation. “But when you’re not...I’d like to live somewhere that reminds me of you. All of you.” Fumbling a bit, she manages to free the finger from the tangle to grab his hands. “I’ve been sneaking into your house. Sleeping there for a few hours.”

Stunned into silence, Kakashi listens to her confession of how it makes her feel safe because it’s like some of him is part of the building – whether it be his past that haunts the place or the knowledge of the work he’s putting into restoring it.

“What I’m trying to say is...it...” she gestures at nothing, “it feels like...”

“Home,” he gasps.

The smile is enough to prove him right...but not quite: “You feel like home.”

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gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 4 years

Link

I keep forgetting to post my fics here. have some ladynoir angst, desperada + gamer 2.0 flavor. inspired by @marinetteplztakeabreak

Rating: T

Summary: Chat Noir refuses to let anyone else play as Desperada. Ladybug doesn't know why. But she /does/ know that if he sacrifices himself one more time, her heart won't be able to take it. He doesn't know how it feels to watch her vanish in front of him... right? (Ladynoir, Set during/after Gamer 2.0)

Word Count: 5771

XXX

“No!”

Marinette’s hand paused, leaving her red cursor highlighting the triangular icon for Desperada.

“Chat?” Her eyes darted around the cramped pyramid, wishing she could see him, but her field of vision was eclipsed with the akuma selection screen until she chose a fighter. And even then, she’d enter the body of the akumatized victim; she still wouldn’t be able to reach her Kitty.

Had Gamer 2.0 broken the rules? Chat had seemed to be enjoying this game, but his voice just then—

“Don’t pick Desperada,” his voice crackled through her earpiece. Something was off for sure.

“Why not?” She asked. “She’s got an easy power to win with. I know you’re having fun, but we do still need to win.”

“I know, I know, but… please. You can win with anyone, my Lady. I’ll take Desperada.”

It was a strange request, but Marinette wasn’t picky. He was right; her strategy didn’t require any overpowered finishing moves.

“Are we going to play or not?” Gamer 2.0’s voice whined.

Marinette scrolled her cursor up and over to Gigantitan. Chat was always willing to listen to her plans. Of course she would respect the one thing he asked of her.

Though she easily won the match, she couldn’t shake the echo of Chat Noir’s panicked voice.

XXX

Stupid, stupid. Adrien’s hands still shook where they were trapped inside of the control console.

He should’ve just let Ladybug play as Desperada. What safer place could there be for her than inside the villain—no, victim, he could usually remember that—who haunted his nightmares? She couldn’t go up in golden smoke if she was the one wielding Desperada’s shapeshifting instrument.

But still, he wasn’t sure he could watch Desperada in action without clawing at his wrist, even if he knew his Lady was the one beneath her skin. And he knew he couldn’t let Ladybug face her—and he couldn’t face her—so there was only one solution his suddenly-whirling mind provided him.

He selected Desperada and slammed the button.

His body flickered, leaving him weightless for a brief second before he was thrust into the akuma victim’s body. He kept his eyes shut for as long as he could afford—not long, since Gamer 2.0 had chosen Pixelator. Another villain with a one-hit k.o.

Just don’t think about it. It’s just a game. It’s not her, you’re not Aspik, you’re not going to be trapped here again, you’re Chat Noir and you LOVE video games it’s just a game it’s just a game it’s just—

Pixelator’s blast nearly hit his feet. Only a quick skid across the slick arena floor saved him. Not that he’d be gone gone if he lost this match—but it would mean that Gamer 2.0 ended up with Desperada’s weapon.

Adrien grit his teeth. He couldn’t risk that. Her would win.

“Chat? Are you okay?” Ladybug’s voice came through his earpiece, but he couldn’t afford to be distracted by her. Not like he had been 25,913 times before.

“Fine!” He managed to choke out before gripping the trombone in his hands.

Pixelator fired off a few more shots, but apparently Gamer 2.0’s practice hadn’t improved his hand-eye coordination. The glitchy-looking projectiles flew wide enough for Adrien to scramble away, roll, take aim.

One shot. He just needed one shot. It would be easy.

But squeezing the modified trombone’s trigger? Not so much.

Panic gripped him, months upon months of memories slamming back into him as his gaze skirted the brass weapon. Five thousand separate instances where his Lady had disintegrated at its hand.

“Chat! Get your head in the game!”

Ladybug’s voice startled him enough that his hands clenched—squeezing the trigger and blasting that horrible, horrible noise.

Pixelator vanished in a spray of golden smoke.

Pixelator. Not his Lady.

His hand squeezed the blood from his left wrist anyway.

“Desperada wins!”

The announcer’s voice hit like a punch to the gut, and his body reacted by leaking bile into his throat.

But he won.

He won.

His body rematerialized in the control pyramid, and Ladybug wasted no time in picking her next fighter. She was laughing, using Prime Queen to hurl Princess Fragrance against the ground. She was having fun.

She was here, with him, even if he couldn’t squeeze her hand to physically reassure himself. She was here.

...And, he realized when it was his turn at the selection screen again, she still needed him.

If his time fighting Desperada had taught him anything, it was that he would never let down his Lady.

XXX

“The times when I have the most fun—my favorite moments— are when I'm with you, my Lady. And I would give up everything for just that.”

Chat Noir’s words echoed in Marinette’s mind hours after the fight with Gamer 2.0. Hours after Max had left her house, cheered by the time spent with her and her parents. Hours after she lady in bed, trying to convince herself to sleep.

He did give up everything for her. All the time. Including today.

Did he know how much it hurt to watch him fall out of the arena? And he’d had the nerve to wink at her while he did it! While she couldn’t doubt his logic—and while warmth pooled in her at his trust—what if she’d failed? She’d been pushed to the brink today; she’d snapped and directed her frustrations from her civilian life at him. And the whole time, he’d taken it, talked her down, taken the hit.

Just like he always did.

He always did.

She buried her face in her pillow, wishing she’d at least taken the time to thank him today. He knew she couldn’t do this without him, didn’t he? So much of their partnership went without saying…

But then again, she hadn’t realized how much she meant to him until he’d said it, either.

“Marinette?” Tikki whispered from her spot next to her pillow. “I thought you’d be asleep by now. You were exhausted today.”

“I am exhausted,” she groaned, squeezing the pillow against the sides of her head. “But I can’t stop thinking about…”

“About who?”

Marinette peeked out enough to glare at her kwami. She knew, of course—she’d said who, not what—but she was going to make Marinette say it.

“Chat Noir,” she huffed into the pillowcase. “He sacrificed himself again today.”

Tikki nodded, even though she probably already knew that too. Her kwami had a good sense of what happened while Marinette was in the suit, though she was unable to explain how it worked in a way that a human mind could understand.

“But you saved him,” Tikki said. “Just like he knew you would.”

“I know I can, but… it still hurts, you know?” Her voice came out as little more than a whimper. “I know I’m Ladybug, and I have to purify the akuma, but still… I couldn’t do it without him. And it’s like he didn’t even think before jumping today!”

“Because he trusts you, Marinette.”

“I know! But—”

But what? There really wasn’t anything else to it. She’d tried talking Chat out of taking hits before. She could never get him to promise to stop, not when Paris needed the Miraculous Cure more than it needed his Cataclysm.

But.

She just wanted him to be okay. He’d said he was fine—that his favorite moments were with her.

How could they be, when he was always in so much danger?

How would he feel if he knew how much she worried about him? Not all the time, of course—just times like this, when she remembered him falling like a ragdoll, disappearing, fading from existence. It hadn’t been as bad as Timebreaker for sure, or even the Puppeteer when he’d been briefly turned against her—but those had been so long ago. Maybe it was just the recentness of it, reminding her again just how much she cherished her partner.

Not that she could tell him that so directly. He’d never stop riding the high of it.

Tikki smiled knowingly. “If you’re worried about Chat Noir, you should tell him. He’s your partner. And I… don’t think he gets to hear how much he means to people very often.”

Of course, Tikki had managed to follow her train of thought. Being literally merged as Ladybug tended to make that easier for her.

“You really think his ego isn’t big enough?” Marinette grumbled.

Tikki’s eyes turned sad. “This isn’t Chloe we’re talking about. He’s your friend.”

Marinette’s brows drew together. He was her friend, and her partner, and… and he couldn’t be more than that. Today had reminded her why.

If it already hurt so much to watch Chat throw his life away, how could she handle it if she were in love with him?

“Right,” she mumbled, hating the way her exhaustion twisted her thoughts. She couldn’t be in love with Chat anyway—because she was in love with Adrien. She’d taken down some of his pictures since becoming better friends with him, but a few still peeked out from the top of her cork board.

She’d never displayed a picture of Chat Noir, even if she could easily pass herself off as a casual fan. She wasn’t sure her heart would be able to take both blond-haired boys staring down at her.

This was useless. She’d been worried about Chat’s safety, not whether or not she was in love with him!

“Tikki? You think I could get out for a bit to clear my head?” Lying here in the dark certainly wasn’t cutting it.

“Of course. Just don’t stay out too long; you still need your rest.”

That much was obvious, especially if she was entertaining romantic thoughts of Chat Noir.

After a whispered “spots on,” she swung out into the night.

XXX

Adrien wound the red string around his left wrist. Breathed in.

Unwound. Breathed out.

Wound. Breathed in.

Unwound.

The rooftop’s shingles still dug into Adrien’s back, but some of the tension uncoiled from his shoulders as he methodically twisted Marinette’s lucky charm. Maybe it was silly, but more than anything else he’d tried, it worked. Having something to replace the weight of the miraculous bracelet he’d worn for so long… maybe it should’ve been a reminder of all the times he’d failed, but instead it gave him hope.

How could anything bad happen to him while he held his friend’s lucky charm?

A gentle breeze kissed his masked face as he held his wrist up to the moon. The green and pink beads glinted brightly against the inky black of his gloves.

He was glad the moon was the only one who could see him from his hiding spot on the abandoned roof. What would Ladybug think if she knew he had such a weird way of clearing his head? Maybe she’d joke that she was being replaced, that he didn’t need her luck anymore if he had Marinette’s. But no, that thought wouldn’t even occur to her. Unlike Adrien, she knew she couldn’t be replaced.

“Chat Noir! You know you’re irreplaceable.”

He tried to remember her reassuring words every time those doubts crept in. She had needed him today. Something had been off with her, a vulnerability he rarely got to see.

“Aren't you scared you'll eventually have to sacrifice everything you love for all of this?”

It would be hard to sacrifice everything he loved when everything he loved was her. He’d toned down that sentiment out loud, but he still wished he could pull her into his arms, promise her that everything was going to be okay, that they’d beat Hawkmoth and steal his miraculous and reveal their identities to each other and fall and love and move to a private island with a hamster—

He chuckled at his own fantasy. He could dream, right? He had to have something to get through the days when all he could remember was her vanishing over and over, golden smoke and shocked blue eyes—

The charm bracelet was too tight on his wrist. He quickly unwound it before the red string could snap.

Breathed out. Wound. Breathed in—

And nearly choked when his staff started ringing.

He rolled over and whipped it out from behind his back, too shocked to even pretend he was busy before picking up. “LB? You okay?”

“Oh, um… I didn’t think you’d be up, honestly.” Her awkward laugh echoed over the pounding of his heart. “Are you okay?”

“I’m absolutely purrrrfect now, my Lady.” He grinned. Marinette’s lucky charm has paid off again. “How about yourself? Just wanted to have a chat on this feline evening?”

“Nope, nope, that’s it, I’m hanging up.”

“No no no don’t go,” he said in one breath, both hands tightening around his staff-phone. “I mean. You didn’t even tell me why you called yet.”

“I can’t just want to chat with my kitty?”

Oh, that put fluttery feelings in his stomach. It was probably for the best that she wasn’t there in person to see his absolutely smitten look. “You made a pun.”

“Completely accidental!”

“Suuuure it was, bugaboo.” He was pushing it, he knew, but she’d called her his kitty. Either something was finally going right for him… or something was very, very wrong. “Seriously, though. You never make house calls. What’s up?”

“I… nevermind, this was stupid,” she muttered.

“No excuse to talk to you is stupid.”

She paused, and for a moment he was sure she’d hung up. But then she said, “Meet me at the Eiffel Tower in ten minutes.”

“As you wish, my Lady.”

He tucked Marinette’s lucky charm away in his pocket, making sure to zip it shut. Then he vaulted off into the night, leaving memories of other bracelets and vanishing Ladybugs behind.

XXX

“We need to talk.” Marinette crossed her arms to keep them from shaking.

Chat Noir dropped onto the crossbeam in front of her, a grin wide on his face. “What, you’re not even going to take me out to dinner first?”

She found herself wishing she’d brought some croissants, if only to have one to throw at him. “Can you—can you be serious for once?”

Her voice cracked pitifully. She was doing it again—taking out her fear and anger on him, and he didn’t deserve it, and she just…

She covered her eyes and crouched down on the cold crossbar. “I’m sorry, Chat. I—I shouldn’t have asked you to come out this late.”

“Hey.”

She felt more than saw Chat sit down beside her. His arms came gently around her, slow enough that she could’ve chosen to pull away.

“You know I’ll always come when you call, little Bug.”

She tried to snort at the nickname, but it felt all too accurate. She felt so, so small.

“I know you will,” she murmured, twisting to better return his undeserved embrace. “I’m still sorry. I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciated you today. I’ve been… having a rough time in my civilian life. It wasn’t fair to take it out on you.”

“We all have off days, LB. Don’t worry about it.”

Of course, it hadn’t even fazed him. How many times had she taken that for granted?

“I know you don’t want to reveal too much about our identities, but if you want to talk about anything that’s bothering you, I’m all ears.” He pulled back just a little, enough for her to see him twitch his leather cat ears.

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide a smile. “I just took on too many obligations at the same time, that’s all. It’s a problem I have.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.” He smiled sadly. “You’re always sacrificing so much for others. I can’t imagine your civilian self is any different.”

Her face warmed at his praise. She did do a lot, but she doubted he’d find her exploits as Marinette half as impressive as Ladybug. Besides—

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you, the most self-sacrificing person I know.”

Her gaze peeled away from him as his most recent sacrifice again flashed through her mind. Would it be worth bringing up again? He’d never stop choosing her safety over his own. And she really didn’t want to argue after just apologizing to him.

“Sorry.”

His soft, sad voice surprised her. Of course it hadn’t been hard for him to guess what she was thinking—he did that all the time when they fought side by side—but he’d never sounded so much like… like he understood.

“I should’ve thought a little harder before jumping today. That was probably hard to watch.”

“Probably?” She couldn’t help gaping. “Chat, it hurts every time I see you throw yourself into danger. We could’ve found a way to trick Gamer 2.0, or at least come up with a plan. But you just…”

Left me.

That was it, wasn’t it? It was supposed to be her and him against the world. Even if the fight could technically be handled alone sometimes, she needed him.

Her partner’s claws scratched at his wrist, just below the leather brace. His gaze wouldn’t focus on her.

“I’m sorry, Ladybug, I really am. I wasn’t... having the best day either, I guess.”

“Hey,” she said, taking his hand—had his claws been digging into his suit?—and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry. I know we’ve talked about this, and I don’t want to fight about it again.” There had been too many tears last time, from both of them. (Mostly her.) “I’m sorry today was hard for you too.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He shook his head, but his grip tightened on her hand, like she was anchoring him. “It was nothing, really. Just not at the top of my game.”

The pun was forced, and she knew it. She frowned up at him.

“I’m not going to stop worrying about you just because you tell me to, Chat. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Can’t. Civilian stuff,” he said quickly.

“Really? I guess I just thought… nevermind.”

“What?”

Maybe she’d misread the situation earlier—after all, she hadn’t been able to see his face while they were in the Gamer’s domain. Could the strange panic she’d thought she heard in his voice just been her imagination?

“You didn’t want me to play as Desperada. And you seemed a little off afterwards…”

He shuddered at the akuma’s name. “You noticed?”

“Of course I did. You sounded scared, but I didn’t want to ask and give Gamer 2.0 anything he could use against you.”

“Smart,” he said under his breath. “I should know I can’t hide anything from you.”

“I don’t know about that. It’s not like I know your identity.”

He gave a shallow laugh at that. “Right…”

There was an awkward silence, where nothing passed between them but Chat’s rapid pulse against her palm. She still hadn’t let go of his hand. He hadn’t teased her about it—which was more of a sign that something was wrong than anything.

“You know,” she said under her breath, tracing her thumb along the back of his hand, “keeping you safe is my number one priority, right?”

“No it’s not.” He shook his head, but he didn’t sound bitter about it. “Keeping Paris safe is your priority. Keeping you safe is mine.”

She bit her lip. Unfortunately, no matter how her heart felt, he was right.

“I just mean… the rules we have, about identities and everything—it’s to protect us.” She swallowed, wondering if she’d regret what she was about to say, if she was only considering it because she’d been worn down by the emotionally exhausting day. “But if you need to talk about something related to your civilian identity that’s affecting you in battle, well… I can’t protect you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

His eyes snapped up to hers. “Don’t say that.”

“W-what?” His intensity caught her off guard. She was always one to shut down conversations that danced too close to their civilian life, not him.

“If you give me permission to talk about this… I don’t know that I’ll be able to stop.”

His shoulders hunched; his knees pulled up to his chest. For all that he’d called her Little Bug earlier, she’d never seen him look so small. Not when she’d told him she was in love with someone else. Not when they’d fought a horde of akumas turned by Scarlett Moth.

But she’d rather face a hundred akumas then see her partner look so defeated.

“Chat Noir.” She squeezed his hand tighter, afraid he would slip away. “I trust you. I know you wouldn’t reveal yourself to me on purpose. I’m not trying to tempt you or anything, I just… I hate seeing you like this.”

Maybe it was selfish of her, but could he really blame her for wanting to help him?

“Let me protect you for once,” she whispered.

“You already have.” He looked up, and to her surprise, tears welled in the corners of his green eyes. “So many times.”

“Then let me do it again. Maybe I can’t keep you from getting hurt, but at least let me be here for you. You don’t have to pretend to be okay all the time, you know that, right?”

“I do, actually.” He snorted, wiping at one eye with his free hand. “Can’t get akumatized.”

Marinette could’ve punched Hawkmoth in the face right then. Well, she wanted to punch Hawkmoth all the time, but especially now.

“Forget about that. I’ll watch out for any butterflies, if you just want to… you know.”

Sometimes you just needed a good cry. Marinette hadn’t had that luxury since becoming Ladybug two years ago—except for a few rare times where Tikki had kept watch for her—but she had no idea how much Chat might have been bottling up.

From the sound of his shaking sobs, it was a lot.

“It’s okay, kitty, I’ve got you.”

She released his hand, but only so she could better wrap her arms around him, curling into his side. He collapsed into her embrace.

“It’s okay. I promise, I’m not going anywhere.” She ran her hands through his hair, scratched gently behind his cat ears, until a low rumble sounded in his chest. She didn’t let that fool her though; she’d read that cats sometimes purred when they were in pain.

And her kitty was in more pain than she’d ever realized.

“I can’t lose you again,” he finally said against her collarbone. “I can’t. I know you won’t leave me on purpose, but—even just remembering it—”

“I’ll never leave you, Chaton. It’s you and me against the world.” She kept up her soothing touches, steadfastly ignoring just how nice it felt to her too. She was here to comfort her partner, not get lost in the scent of his strawberry shampoo and leather suit.

“But what if I can’t save you?” He finally burst, looking up at her with tearstained eyes. “I… we don’t always get second chances…”

It wasn’t the first time she’d had that fear—though usually hers was the fear of failing as a whole, of watching Chat disappear forever, of watching Paris crumble around her.

“I know,” she murmured. She wouldn’t lie and pretend there was nothing to be afraid of. “But I also know that no matter what we’ve faced, you’ve always been here to save me. You saved me today.”

As much as it pained her to admit, his self-sacrificing stunt had allowed her to win. While she understood his fear, why was it catching up to him now, of all times? Maybe it was just remembering all the akumas they’d faced, all their close calls…

“Don’t pick Desperada.”

That one… hadn’t been worse than usual, had it?

“We don’t always get second chances…”

“I don’t always save you,” he said. “I don’t, and—and I can’t tell you, and that’s what hurts more than anything.” He squeezed his eyes shut before dropping his head back onto her shoulder.

“I don’t understand. I’m still here. Safe,” she reassured him while rubbing his back. “That should be proof enough that you didn’t fail.”

“Only because you don’t remember.”

Didn’t… remember? Had there been an akuma attack like Oblivio that she had no memory of? But surely she would’ve remembered casting the Cure at least, and noticed that there was a gap in time that she’d missed…

And she still didn’t understand how any of this could relate to worries about Chat’s civilian identity, unless that had just been a bluff to keep her from asking. But she doubted that—Chat Noir didn’t lie to her.

“25,913 times…”

She wasn’t supposed to hear that. She knew that from the way it was mumbled despondently into the crook of her neck. She knew it from the way his whole body froze at the admission.

She knew it from the way she had that number memorized. If it had been anything else, any other number, she would’ve thought he was exaggerating, but—

“It was the 25,913th time. I don’t know what to do anymore!”

“No,” she gasped. He was—and he had— “Adrien?”

Slowly, as if every degree he lifted his head caused him pain, he met her eyes. His lips tried to twitch into a hopeful smile, but they wavered before letting out another sob.

“I told you I wouldn’t be able to stop.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said quickly, even though it did matter, because the boy she loved was the other boy she loved, and—now was not the time to be coming out of denial! “I mean, it does matter, of course I care who you are, but I’m not—we’ll get through it, okay?”

“You’re mad, aren’t you?” He sniffed.

She squeezed him before he could pull out of her hug—even though he had every right to pull away. She had been the one to give him the snake miraculous.

Everything snapped into place. Why Desperada had freaked him out. His fear of failing her. Why he would jump into danger so rashly.

And she’d thought it was bad to watch Chat sacrifice himself. He he’d been in love with her all along, and she’d made him watch her vanish 25,913 times.

She’d tried to check on Adrien as Ladybug shortly after the Desperada fight. She’d known there was a chance that he’d be struggling, he said he’d been in the time loop for months, but every time she tried to visit he was gone or asleep (she knew she should’ve kept his schedule!) and then he’d come to school and he’d seemed fine, but all along…

“Talk to me, Bug, please,” he choked out.

“Sorry!” She released him from her hug, but only so she could grab his hands instead.

(She was holding Adrien’s hands, the useless part of her brain screamed.)

(She told it to shut up.)

“I’m not mad, I promise. I’m just so—so stupid,” she finally said, traitorous tears already welling in her own eyes, spilling over, clinging to the edge of her mask. Blurring her view of the one person who meant more to her than anyone. “I’m so sorry, chaton— if anyone should be mad it’s you. I was the one who chose you to use the snake miraculous; I was so selfish—”

“Ladybug, no.” He shook his head, blond hair flaring out around his human ears. “You couldn’t know I was Chat Noir. I was… I was thrilled that you picked my civilian self.”

“But I shouldn’t have. I should have used my head instead of my heart.” She bit her lip. How could he still look at her with such warmth when he’d been trapped trying to protect her for so long?

“You always use your head. I’m the one who was stupid enough to keep trying.”

“Because you trusted me—”

“Because I love you.”

Her head snapped up, wet blue eyes locking on shimmering green ones. Those were the words she’d wanted to hear ever since he’d caught her in the rain two years ago. She’d never expected to hear them here, now, when she felt she least deserved them.

“You—still?” Her breath caught.

He chuckled. “I thought it was obvious, Bugaboo.”

“How do you stand it?” She blurted. Wrong time, wrong words, but she couldn’t stop. “I mean… if you don’t want to talk about it, I get it, I really do, but—how did you watch me… get hit all those times, when you love me, and not—”

She wasn’t going to cry again. She wasn’t.

“Go crazy?” He smiled sadly. “I think it’s too late for that.”

“Adrien…”

“But it means I know how you feel now. I’m sorry I made you watch me disappear again today. That wasn’t cool of me.”

“Stop it—stop apologizing, Chat, I mean—you—agh!” She threw her arms around his neck, and from the brief look of panic on his face, he must have thought she was going to strangle him. But she just pulled him into another crushing hug. “You’re so much braver than I am.”

“Pawsitively untrue.”

“True! I always knew I wouldn’t be able to stand it if I watched you take the hits you do, and I was… and I was… in love with you,” she mumbled.

This time his chuckle was hollow, echoing in the pit of her stomach.

“I guess it’s a good thing you’re not in love with me, then.”

“I am.”

Cold clarity washed over her. Did—did she really just say that? No! She wasn’t supposed to say it like that, when they’d both been crying and…

And it didn’t matter.

Because he was looking at her like she’d just cast the Miracle Cure over his whole world.

“You… you’re…”

“In love with you,” she said, because she could, oh she could and it felt like someone had finally breathed the air back into her lungs. “I’m in love with you, Chat Noir. Adrien. Both of you—just you, wow, that’s still going to take some getting used to…”

But it felt right. ...Maybe just because she was relieved she didn’t have to choose between her all-consuming crush and her partner who she wouldn’t give up for the world. But still.

“You’re in love with me,” he breathed. The grin that spread across his face could’ve powered the whole Eiffel Tower—no, all of Paris. She could still hardly believe he’d grace her with it, after everything that had happened—

But they were partners. They were friends. Even if they weren’t in love—which they were, she thought with a giddy shiver—nothing could tear apart Ladybug and Chat Noir.

To her surprise, his hand detangled from hers to unzip his pocket. But the even bigger surprise was what he fished out.

“I’m going to have to to thank Marinette again.” He held up her old beaded bracelet by one end of the red string. “I think her lucky charm works almost as well as yours.”

A laugh bubbled out of her. Even when he’d been in love with Ladybug, he’d carried Marinette’s charm with him?

The urge to yank his bell and kiss him punched her in the gut. But she had to hold out for at least a little longer—just long enough to blow his mind, she hoped.

“You’re welcome, chaton,” she said with a smirk. “I’m glad you’re making good use of it. Seems like you needed it more than I did.”

He blinked, his jaw dropping open. “Wh—no way, Marinette?”

Her face heated. She was used to teasing and flirting with Chat, but hearing him say her name while she was suited up—there was something about it that shot lightning from her toes to the tips of her fingers.

“Er—surprise?”

“I love you,” he said before slapping his hands over his mouth. Which was too bad, because she was really close to just pressing her own mouth over his. Her lucky charm dangled teasingly between his fingers, probably touching his lips, not fair—

“Yep, you’ve said that.” She giggled.

“Agh, I know, but—it was you! Marinette!”

She wasn’t really sure what was playing out in his head right now. His eyes shifted through so many expressions before settling on one that just about melted her insides.

“I know you said not to apologize—”

“Don’t you dare.” She jabbed his chest. “I’m just going to forgive you anyway.”

“Because you love me.” He grinned dopily, clutching her lucky charm to the spot she’d poked.

“No.” It was really hard to keep glaring when he just stared at her like she was the only star in the sky.

“Yes.”

“Yes, I love you, no, it’s because you’re my partner and I think we’ve both sacrificed ourselves enough for each other. We’re both superheroes. We’re going to have to take hard hits, it’s our job.” She took a deep breath. Even though it might hurt even more now… “I trust you, Chat. You’re not going to jump in front of an akuma unless you really have to, right?”

“Of course. Right.” He nodded. “But that wasn’t what I was apologizing for this time.”

“Oh.” She blinked. She’d still forgive him anyway, but she had to admit she was curious now.

“I’m sorry I never noticed that the love of my life was in front of me this whole time.”

He twined their fingers, the red string of her charm tangling in between them.

She let out a half-laugh. That was it?

“I could apologize for the same thing, you know.”

“Or,” he said with a mischievous smirk pulling at his lips, “we could skip to the part where we kiss and make—mmpf!”

Her mouth was clumsy against his, but she was so high on the exhilaration of kissing him that it didn’t matter. He followed her lips with equal fervor, no longer shaking, his claws digging wonderfully into the divot just to the side of her spine.

For that moment, they didn’t have to be superheroes. They didn’t have to think about failing, about consequences—they were just two teenagers, in love, chasing each others breaths on the side of the Eiffel Tower.

Kissing her partner wouldn’t fix everything. But for now it was a reprieve, and a promise.

She would always, always be here for her kitty.

#fic tag #tali writes #miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #ladybug #chat noir #love square #ml #angst #hurt/comfort #reveal fic

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unibrowzz · 3 years

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Mod (finally) reviews all 67 winners of the Eurovision Song Contest Part IV: The 1980s

Ah yes, the 80s. One of my favourite decades for music overall, and one of the only decades in Eurovision where I wouldn’t immediately jump at the chance to change most of the songs that won, the other decade being the 2000s.

But at least with the 80s there was more quality songs per year, whereas the 2000s was mostly drivel.

I also count the 80s as being somewhat of a turning point in the contest’s history, and by that I mean it always seemed to me like it was the decade where the UK really began to stop caring. Most people know the song that won in 1985, but nobody knows what won in 1986. Everyone knows Johnny Logan won twice, but couldn’t name his second song. Everyone knows Celine Dion competed, but can’t remember if she won or what she sang.

That and countries also started experimenting with more modern sounds and outfits towards the end. The early 80s is just an extension of the 70s I swear.

But that’s enough of all that, how do I find the winning songs?

1980- What’s Another Year?

Country: Ireland

Artist: Johnny Logan

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the song that makes every 50something woman in the UK and Ireland all doey-eyed and rosy cheeked as they remember back to when they were a teenager watching this on TV and drooling at the lovely looking sad Irishman singing his sorrows into the microphone. Or that’s my experience with this song anyway. Another experience is that most vintage fans I know tend to dislike this song on the grounds of it beating out [insert song here] Everyone has their favourite from 1980 since it was honestly a pretty strong year, but even though this song isn’t my first place for that year I can still clearly see why it won. See, 1980 had a lot of pop songs, so a slow, sad song like this one was bound to stand out, whether it was popular or not. Luckily for this one, it turned out to be a popular choice. Other songs wouldn’t be so lucky… Back on track though. Like I said, this is a very sad and melancholy song with sad and melancholy lyrics, which not only made it stand out in its year, but also made it stand out amongst other Eurovision songs of its time. It’s strange to think, but at this point in the contest’s history there hadn’t been a winner with lyrics so solemn and personal. See, in modern Eurovision, every other song is the artist baring their soul about their horrible ex-boyfriend, or their depression, or past abuse, or whatever, so knowing there was a period where songs like that were so rare is just… surreal to me.

Is this my personal winner for this year? This or Greece tbh, I don’t mind this one

If no, what is? Greece- Anna Vissi- “Autostop”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 23rd

1981: Making Your Mind Up

Country: United Kingdom

Artist: Bucks Fizz

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the UK winner that nobody really likes, but the BBC still forces at us anyway because they’re proud they came up with a gimmick that everybody remembers. Or maybe it’s not that well remembered, but nobody would know that because we’re reminded of it every year. This song is… alright. Just alright. The first listen of this one is always the best, because after a while it just gets kind of annoying. The singing ESPECIALLY starts to grate you for a while. Even in the studio version the two girls sound unbearably shrill and whiny, and I’m not sure if that’s their fault or the songwriter’s (since if I remember correctly only one of them was a professional singer). I’m seriously convinced there’s no way for a female vocalist to pull this off without sounding terrible. Again, this one’s perfectly fine and serviceable, but that doesn’t mask the fact it’s still the worst UK winner and the worst winner of the 1980s too.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Portugal- Carlos Paião- “Playback”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 58th

1982: Ein Bißchen Frieden

Country: West Germany

Artist: Nicole

Language: German (Translation: “A little peace”)

Thoughts: This song gives me a really warm, nostalgic feeling, and I don’t know why. I mean, I know this one did well internationally, so it’s possible I just heard it as a kid, but given how I grew up in the early 2000s, “Eurovision is a shitty freak show full of weirdos from the USSR who gang up on the UK and don't vote for us on purpose” era Britain, that’s highly unlikely. Anyways, this is such a warm, fuzzy kind of song. It has a lovely… round-the-campfire, singalong kind of vibe, like this is meant to be sung by a load of long haired hippies with flowers in their hair and CND symbols drawn on their cheeks. And it’s… … Also kind of bland. If you’ve been reading my personal winners so far, you’ll have noticed I definitely have a soft spot for old German entries, so it’s a shame I find the one song they actually won with to be so… generic. It’s like they got tired of being unique so decided to send the same saccharine fluff everyone else was sending, and guess what, it paid off majorly, because this song was a huge hit at the time. Something about that kind of bothers me, like, out of all the entries they sent, it’s the one that’s the most “Eurovision-y” that ended up winning. And there’s something depressing in that.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? United Kingdom- Bardo- “One Step Further”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 50th

1983: Si la vie est Cadeau

Country: Luxembourg

Artist: Corinne Hermés

Language: French (Translation: “If life were a gift”)

Thoughts: You want a tip on how to stand out amongst Eurovision fans? Say you like this song. Probably won’t make you very popular, but you’ll stand out at least. I will confess, I, too, was part of the hate-wagon for this song. Like most fans I knew, I’d complain about how boring and uninteresting it was and how it, ahem, “robbed” so many other entries, and how basic it was, et cetera, et cetera. But… honestly? It’s not even that bad. Sure I had other favourites from 1983 (the ones I could stand watching anyway, the host that year was so unimaginably terrible I gave up watching halfway through. I DARE you to watch the whole thing without wanting to neck yourself), but this song gets way more hate than it deserves. I honestly don’t think this song is half as bad as I made it out to be myself, or as bad as the fandom makes it out to be. It’s got a decent melody, some solid vocals, some appealingly 80s instrumental, like there’s a lot I like here. …Until you read the lyrics and realise they’re almost as half-assed and lazy as All Kinds of Everything’s, but I digress. Did I prefer other songs from that year? Of course. Am I going to complain about this one winning? Nah. It’s alright.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Sweden- Carola Häggkvist- “Främling”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 41st

1984- Diggiloo, Diggiley

Country: Sweden

Artist: Herreys

Language: Swedish

Thoughts: Whenever I was a younger fan I used to describe this song as being drunk-dad-at-a-wedding-music performed by three sentient Ken dolls, and I still stand by that statement. And I don’t really know how else to describe this one. It certainly has its charm, and it’s still a likeable song, but it also feels very… vapid. Like if this song were a person, they’d be a bit of a bimbo. And I mean, the song’s about how the singer’s oh-so-happy and prancing down the street in his brand new shoes, so that’s probably a fair description. Part of me wonders if that’s down to old Eurovision songs being vapid in general or if it’s down to the schlager genre itself requiring songs to be kinda neutered and happy-go-lucky, but even though I do like this song, it does come off as being a bit bland. A bit by-the-numbers and playing-it-safe. And I don’t mind songs like that, but I’d rather they didn’t win, y’know?

Is this my personal winner for this year? Not really

If no, what is? Italy- Alice & Franco- “Il Treni di Tozeur”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 15th

1985- La det Swinge

Country: Norway

Artist: Bobbysocks

Language: Norwegian

Thoughts: Ah yes, the song which finally hauled Norway into first place after years of being a regular last-placer. Maybe the UK should take some notes instead of blaming Brexit. Or Russia. Or Iraq. Or anything other than their own apathy, for that matter. But this is about La det Swinge and not the UK, so what are my thoughts on it? Well it’s… It’s the kind of song I imagine my mom and aunt would sing at a wedding if they ever attended one. It’s a very fun song, a little cheesy, sure, but it’s hard to not like a song that’s this upbeat and cheery. And yeah I know it’s because it’s schlager and that’s generally a really cheerful genre by default, I touched on that in the review above,

Is this my personal winner for this year? This or Israel

If no, what is? Israel- Yizhar Cohen- “Olé Olé”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 14th

1986- J’aime la Vie

Country: Belgium

Artist: Sandra Kim

Language: French

Thoughts: This song is an enigma because I’m an absolute slut for 80s pop, yet, for some reason, I find this song painfully average and uninteresting. Now, I’ll get it off my chest and say that 1986 was also a painfully average and uninteresting year, and most of the time I just felt myself remembering the singer more than the song, and even then I struggle to remember what some of the acts even were. It was just such a boring blur of a year I’m surprised the juries even managed to stay awake to pick a winner. And I GUESS you could argue that this song is so upbeat and peppy that it woke them up, but that doesn’t excuse how bloody generic it is. Like, this is the most generic 80s song you can imagine, and not in a good way. It feels more like stock music than an actual publicly released pop song. Had it not won, I doubt it would’ve stood out to me at all; it would’ve just faded into the background with all the other muted, 80s-coloured mush from this year. Basically, there’s a reason the singer’s age is the only thing noteworthy about this song.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Not really

If no, what is? Luxembourg- Sherisse Laurence- “L’amour de ma vie”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 49th

1987- Hold me Now

Country: Ireland

Artist: Johnny Logan

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the superior Johnny Logan winner. And I’m not sure why everyone forgets this one because Mother of Mercy this song is in another league entirely compared to the other schlock Ireland’s won with. Like this is their best winner, no competition. One of their best songs overall as well. One of the best entries from the 80s, one of the best winners of the 80s, one of the best winners… Yeah, I really like this song. I’ll admit to sleeping on this one for too long myself, always dismissing it as some boring Irish ballad to go with all the other boring Irish ballads they somehow managed to win with (we’ll get to that later), and always agreeing with people who said XYZ country (always Yugolslavia) should have won instead. Basically I learnt the hard way to never judge a song on its country and genre. But one day I found myself in the midst of a revisiting trip, going back to winners I didn't pay much attention to, just to see if there was anything I’d missed the first time round. And something about the lyrics in this song resonated with me a lot more than I thought they would. In a strange way, it made me feel older; like I’d grown up and was able to relate to the words in a song and appreciate it more than I could when I was younger. The line “what do you say when words are not enough?” especially hits harder than it should; as someone with autism I tend to find showing emotions difficult, even in virtual conversation where I’m not using my voice or face, because… Well, what do you say when your words aren’t enough?

Is this my personal winner for this year? Yes

If no, what is? N/A

Personal ranking (out of 67): 2nd

1988- Ne Partez pas Sans Moi

Country: Switzerland

Artist: Céline Dion

Language: French

Thoughts: Telling people Céline Dion won this thing is a new favourite hobby of mine, just to see the confused reaction. And that’s the most interesting thing about this song because it’s… fine, I guess? It’s a perfectly serviceable 80s power ballad, but there’s no bells and whistles to make me sit up and declare it any better than just “okay”. It’s basically the ballad equivalent of J’aime la Vie from 1986, in that it’s extremely 80s and also in French, but there’s nothing to make it that memorable aside from the singer herself. And even then this isn’t the song that made her famous anyway. Even her singing doesn't make this one stand out, partially because the song doesn't do anything special with it, and partially because she just blends in with all the other good singers of this era. And that’s kinda sad to think about.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Hmmm....

If no, what is? Greece- Afroditi Frida- “Clown”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 22nd

1989- Rock Me

Country: Yugoslavia

Artist: Riva

Language: Croatian

Thoughts: So this is another song it really took me a while to get into (there’s lots of those, trust me) and one that was very briefly in my top three overall favourites. It’s slid down a few slots since then, though I would still say it’s… Somewhere in the top 15. I don’t really have a lot to say about this one, if I’m honest. It’s just a good, fun, solid song which stood out in a very dull and ballad-saturated year, nothing more, nothing less. The lyrics are nice too, being about a bored musician who learns to love music again by teaching himself how to play pop songs to entertain his friends. That’s a unique subject and I can imagine it resonating with a lot of people who’ve fallen out with a hobby they used to love because they took it too seriously (providing they either speak Croatian or have looked up the lyrics, of course). I mean, it resonates with me at least. All in all, I just like this song for its message more than anything else.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Portugal- Da Vinci- “Conquistador”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 9th

#Eurovision #mod's winner reviews #posting now because the tag will be CHAOS come 7 lmao #esc winners

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writersrealmbts · 4 years

Text

Con Amore: Part 16/Finale

Bulletproof Melody Sequel

Description: Con Amore– A directive to a musician to perform a selected passage of a composition tenderly, with affectionate emotion, or in a loving manner; an instruction to the player of an instrument meaning ‘with love’ or ‘lovingly’. Three years with all seven of your loves, three years of relative peace. But now everything is threatened as darkness surges from the horizon.

Originally Posted: 06/02/2020

Tags: Superheroes, Ot7

4,026 words

A/N: And here it is, the end of this series.

“Did you really think you stand against me?! Fight the Conservatory?” The dean sneered down at the boys, who were restrained by some students. “You and this half-baked plan?”

The Temple fighters were also restrained.

You hummed softly to stay under the radar, slipping through the crowd unnoticed.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t see this coming? It was so obvious a child could see it. And look at what it has gotten you. You never stood a chance, and now you’ll pay in blood. I should start with the weakest link, shouldn’t I?” Her eyes became reptilian, and it was obvious she was trying to shift.

But you didn’t let her.

She hissed. “What did you do?”

You smirked as the boys just looked at her blankly, not understanding.

“Kill them!” She ordered with a snarl.

None of the students moved.

“What are you doing! Kill them!”

“As if I would allow that to happen,” You finally said from right behind her, finding extreme satisfaction in the way she jumped.

And even more satisfaction from the tinge of fear in her eyes.

You smirked slightly. “Hello again. Did you miss me? I didn’t miss you. Them, yes. Very much.”

“But…you left to have a baby?”

“Me? With a baby? Sounds questionable to me,” You replied with a smirk and a shrug. You casually walked down to the boys, tugging the soldier-students away from your loves. “At ease.”

The puppets relaxed, moving to stand at-ease.

The boys got up, blinking at you in surprise with smiles slowly spreading across their faces.

“Miss me boys?” You asked, then spun on your heel to face Ryoko with a smile. “Now, I suggest you surrender.”

“What did you do to me?”

“Oh, right. That. So, you figured out that I’m a former student, but what you failed to put together was that I’m a former student who has her powers, and remembers my time at the school. I think that should scare you just a bit. Because, also, I tend to find trouble. Ask them, where there’s any sort of trouble, there’s me in the thick of it.” You walked past her casually, taking the weapon her second-in-command was holding. “Thank you, you were making me nervous.”

He just watched you in utter confusion.

“You see, they may have been obvious in their intentions to fight you, but I’ve been preparing this for much longer. The timing was finally right to execute the plan. Granted, it wasn’t in my plan for these guys to come up with such a half-baked plan but they were trying to fight on two fronts,” You explained a little, back among the student-soldiers, who parted for you. “Nadya! That armor really brings out your eyes, you should have one of your robes in that color.”

“This isn’t some sort of reunion—” Ryoko snapped.

You turned back to her. “Oh, I know. I’m about to crush you, like a grape in a winepress. This isn’t a reunion, it’s the last battle to end the war. The last hurrah before you’re forced to surrender. Because you will surrender.”

“What did you do to me?!” She said, more desperate.

“I made you into my puppet,” You answered simply. “Just as you’ve continued the legacy of using the students as puppets. Mindless drones, to live or die as you see fit. You were the perfect candidate. My perfect pawn to rise to the top, so that I can tear the whole tower down from its foundation.”

“I am nobodies puppet!”

“Sure, sure, if we’re talking about nobody in the Odysseus sense.” You looked her up and down, then shrugged. “But you’re not that scary of a cyclops, and I’m not stealing a golden fleece. So, perhaps a better analogy or simile or whatever would be the Trojan horse. You’re the horse.”

“How?”

You evaluated her. “Well, first of all, you should never have tried to tell people that Hummingbird and I are the same people. That was very naughty, sly.”

She looked away.

“How they mixed all three of us together—myself, Athena, and Hummingbird—that was truly inspired. I mean, they almost convinced me, but Athena was pretty indignant. Doesn’t like it when people waste her time.”

“And Hummingbird?”

“Well, we’ve worked together now and then. If you remember, I used to be pretty reclusive. I was kind of acting as a point-person for her. Middle man. She gave me that amulet, the one I gave you, remember?”

She ripped off the amulet like it was poisonous, tossing it away from herself.

You scooped it up, pocketing it. “Thanks. Though, that’s not how I’m controlling you. Do you fear them?”

“Them?”

“The students,” You clarified. “If they were no longer your puppets, would you fear them?”

Her face made it clear that she did, though she was in the middle of saying she wasn’t.

“I said that I knew the right songs to tear this place down,” You murmured. “Have you ever seen Pinocchio?”

Laguz grinned.

“You know, the song he sings. They used it for that super-hero movie, ‘I’ve got no strings, to hold me down,’” You started, then laughed a little. “But you know, that’s not the best part of the song.”

“What is?” Nadya asked helpfully.

“‘I've got no strings, so I have fun, I'm not tied up to anyone, they've got strings, but you can see, there are no strings on me,” You turned toward the students, putting everything into it, using the melody to break the hypnosis, knowing you’d have to improvise that last few lines, “‘You have no strings’, your minds are free, there are no strings on thee.”

It was probably the most dangerous plan you’d ever implemented.

But you were still humming a peace-keeping melody under your breath to keep them from causing a mob.

Her second in command blinked, then looked around, before his eyes widened and he stared up at her in horror.

You hummed another song, gesturing for Nadya’s knights to restrain Ryoko as you approached Nadya, handing over a charm. “That should keep her detained for you.”

“Objections to the Temple taking the building?” Nadya asked, looking to the boys as well.

Tiwaz shook his head. “As long as we can continue monitoring the situation.”

She nodded. “Of course. How long will the calming melody work?”

“Two hours? Give or take twenty minutes depending on their response to leaving the long-term hypnosis.” You turned to watch them carry the former dean away. “I’d keep her location secret from them, though. And your healers will be extra busy.”

“I think we can handle it. You should get those guys out of here, they’ve been working non-stop for the past three days.”

Your gaze snapped to her. “They what?”

She shrugged.

“No wonder that plan was so half-baked, idiots.” You huffed. “Thanks for looking after them.”

“Thank you for looking after my acolytes. Are they still my acolytes?”

You shook your head. “Not as such. They want to still work with you, but also independently. I figured I would talk them into helping my boys out a bit, get their feet wet and then both of us could look out for them and make sure that they didn’t get themselves killed.”

She nodded. “Sounds like a solid plan. How have you been?”

“Cabin fever. It’s a shame that I didn’t get to participate in fighting. Well, other than the two guards I encountered on the fifteenth floor in the western wing. They might need some healing.”

Nadya looked to the girl beside. “Dispatch a unit to the fifteenth floor of the western wing. You better get them out of here before they start volunteering to help.”

You nodded, shaking her hand and then turning toward your boys.

They were waiting for you.

You smiled and walked up, picking up the pace for the last few steps to Jungkook to add some force to your punch to his gut.

He grunted, and you could hear his breath come out from the force.

You turned to deliver a blow to each of the other boys, most of them now wary and only receiving punches to their arms—except for Namjoon who received a nice hard slap to the face.

“Why?!” Jimin asked, rubbing his arm.

“You mean besides that half-baked mess of a plan that almost got you killed?! Because I just heard that you guys haven’t stopped working for the past three days, you idiots! How many times am I going to have to beat it into you that rest is important?!” You shoved the nearest one toward the door you summoned. “It’s like you want to get killed. We sleep before battle, we eat real meals, we take care of ourselves so that we can do our jobs better and not end up on our knees with guns pointed at us and hoping that—” You slammed the door behind your sheepish boys, “—our girlfriend is going to show up in time to save our hides, again! I mean, if I was five minutes later you all would be dead.”

“We had a contingency plan,” Namjoon said, taking your hand.

You huffed, not pulling your hand away, but still moving briskly to the next door and opening it. “Contingency plans. Those are always so reliable.”

They passed through, but then effectively stopped you—Taehyung hugging you tightly from behind, Jimin getting his arms around you next, and soon you were at the center of a group hug with your sweaty lovers.

“We’ve missed you so much,” Yoongi said, and you could hear the effort he had to take to not swear when he said it. He only was touching you by the hand, but he gripped that hand like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

Jungkook had managed to get closer to you than Yoongi, and he was pressing soft kisses to your temple.

You could feel Hoseok’s vines wrapping around your ankles affectionately.

“The baby?” Seokjin asked, his voice just above a whisper.

“Perfectly fine and healthy.” You rested against whichever one was holding you up more. “I missed you all more than you can imagine.”

Namjoon’s hand stroked your hair. “It must have been so hard, baby.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch. “But it’s over now. So, come on. I want to get out of the cold and it’s time for you to meet our little one.”

They broke away with nods and murmurs of excitement, though there was also a tinge of sadness at having missed so much already.

You gave each of them a kiss, because you didn’t get to earlier, then led the way to the house while still holding hands with Hoseok and Yoongi.

The safe house was definitely a little worse for wear after a few attacks by the oasis group a few months ago, but there wasn’t much work that could be done to the exterior in the winter, and none of it caused any issues with heating or leaks, so you weren’t too worried about it.

You hummed a little, which would warn the boys that you were returning. You could sense that they were at peace at that moment, and you could sense that the baby was asleep.

Sensing you, Soobin hummed as well, to establish a line of communication, asking if you wanted them out of the house for a while.

You glanced at your loves, then asked if he and the other boys in the house would mind.

You could sense amusement from them, and you saw the snow rise and shift to clear the path you were on—a clear sign from Yeonjun.

“Whoa,” Taehyung breathed, checking the snow out as you all came up to the front door of the house.

You entered the house, helping them strip off their gear after simply shucking off your coat and shoes, leading them into the living room and sitting them down before going into the nursery.

Hoseok saw you first, standing and staring at the bundle in your arms.

The others fell silent, watching you as you brought the baby in.

You nodded for him to sit again, waiting for him to be ready for you to pass the baby off to him before doing so. “Hobi, this is our daughter, Mishil.”

Hoseok held her carefully, looking down at her with trepidation and love.

“It’s a girl?” Jimin breathed.

“We have a daughter?” Namjoon said, sounding pretty emotional.

“She’s so tiny,” Jungkook said, sounding like he was tearing up.

You carefully placed Hoseok’s hands so that he was holding her a little better, more easily. “She was born a little early, but she’s strong and healthy.”

Yoongi had slid closer, and hesitantly touched Mishil’s head, then a little more certainly, stroking her hair. “Her hair is so soft.”

“Look at her little hands!” Taehyung gushed from Hobi’s other side.

“She’s perfect,” Hoseok said lowly, voice thick. “She’s absolutely perfect. Just like her mom.”

Warmth flooded your heart.

“More than perfect, better than perfect,” Taehyung expanded. “What’s better than perfect? What’s a word for that?”

“There is no word for that,” Namjoon answered, hovering but not getting closer.

Jimin and Jungkook quickly pressed in though, effectively forcing you back as they all gushed over the baby.

Jin’s arms wrapped around your waist, and he pressed kisses along the curve of your neck and shoulder. “You did so well, y/n. I know how hard it was while you were with us, I can’t imagine what you’ve been through without us.”

You melted into his embrace. Finally, you could relax and let them take care of you and your precious daughter.

One by one, all of the boys held their daughter.

Jungkook was in tears.

Namjoon looked petrified, holding her so delicately and checking every two seconds that he was doing it correctly and that he wasn’t going break her.

Jimin had turned into a dog in his excitement after having held her, and was now resting his furry muzzle on Seokjin’s leg as the oldest held Mishil.

“Where are the younger boys?” Taehyung asked after you were holding her again, having fed her and changed her diaper.

“They’re outside, I just told Soobin to head back. Now, ground rules, no sexual stuff in front of the boys. They know my true identity. I’m helping them train as a team, so be nice. Also, possibly not all of you fighting for me? We’ll have plenty of time once we’re back to our normal life for that. I’m going to set them up here, just while they’re training.”

Namjoon nodded. “We could help train them. That way they could help us out, maybe take a shift so we can have a night off so that we can have nights together.”

“So we can raise her,” Seokjin whispered. “Better than my parents. Better than Jimin’s parents. She’s going to be so very loved.”

Jimin leaned against Seokjin, letting the oldest pet him. He was still in dog form, gaze following Mishil.

“Y/n-noona?” Yeonjun called tentatively.

“Living room,” You called softly.

The five boys came in after stripping off their winter gear, noses and cheeks red from the cold, but they looked like they had been playing in the snow—eyes bright and sparkly, still the breathy laughter present in most of them.

“Thank you for taking care of her,” You said, smiling at them.

They were grinning proudly.

“She’s the best baby,” Beomgyu said decidedly. “And you weren’t gone that long. I wouldn’t let them mess up in that short time period.”

“We’re not that bad,” Yeonjun pouted.

“I did the best thing and let Soobin-hyung, Beomgyu-hyung, and Yeonjun-hyung take care of her,” Hueningkai said, obviously joking just a little.

Taehyun shook his head. “He got the bottles ready. I stayed away. Especially after last time,” He said, looking slightly traumatized.

“Yeah, probably a good idea,” You agreed, getting them all mugs of hot chocolate. “Took me and Soobin to block that from your mind.”

Soobin was quietly looking at all of your loves until he spotted Mishil in Jin’s arms, then he nodded slightly. “So…the school?”

“Control of the building has been handed over to the temple. They’re going to rehabilitate the students and alter the school into something better.”

Yeonjun nodded. “But…we’re still going to watch it? Just in case the temple…?”

You nodded. “Safeguard, mostly. But we will also ensure that it does not fall into a path of evil again.”

“We’re all safe?” Taehyun asked.

“We’re all safe,” Namjoon confirmed this time, voice strong and confident again. “And we can’t thank you boys enough for protecting these two.”

“You did well,” Yoongi added, a little more quietly, but still in a praising tone. “Y/n told us that you’re forming your own team?”

Soobin nodded. “We work well together.”

“Cute!” Taehyung gushed in whisper. “Can we keep them?”

“They’re not pets,” You told him. “And I already told you we’re keeping them. We’re going to continue training, they’re going to continue living here until they feel ready to venture out and then you boys ,when you agree, are going to help them get their feet a little more wet.”

“Oh? We are, are we?” Namjoon countered, a laugh in his voice.

You nodded. “Yup. Because otherwise I’ll rain hell down upon all of you.”

“How would you do that?” He asked, folding his arms.

“Please don’t wake the baby,” Soobin begged, already covering his ears.

Namjoon’s face went slack and he backed up a few steps. “Right, okay, sounds good. Great even. I was just teasing. We already agreed to helping you and them, and all of that. Please don’t wake her, I am not ready for that.”

You sputtered into giggles. “I wasn’t going to wake the baby. I like my sleep.”

Everyone relaxed, quite noticeably.

You rolled your eyes, then froze as she started fussing. “Then again, she might wake herself up.”

“What do I do?” Jin asked, looking to you desperately. “Jungkook wasn’t this small when we started taking care of him!”

You snorted as Jungkook hissed protests, slipping over between Hoseok and Jin to carefully take her. “You boys have a lot to learn. Did you not read any of the books I left?”

“Four times,” Yoongi said, but still looked apprehensive. “But I think I only registered all of the information once.”

You sighed and shook your head as she started fussing more. “Well, I hope you’re ready for the crash-course of parenting.”

Beomgyu looked worried. “I’ll be on standby, just in case.”

“Appreciated,” You said, looking over all of your boys before getting up with her. “Come on. Lesson one, preparing a bottle.”

——

“Alright, now open your eyes!” Taehyung said excitedly.

You did, smiling immediately. It was perfect. Magical, even. It reminded you of their first base, with elements of all of them in it, but tempered with you and much softer. More feminine.

A perfect nursery for their princess.

“It’s perfect,” You told them, bringing her over to the bassinet and laying her down in it. “You did a great job.”

Jimin giggled and wrapped around you.

The others sort of crowded in to look at her.

“She’s gonna hate us,” Yoongi said softly, so affectionately.

“Why would she hate us?” Hoseok asked, sounding worried.

“Because we’re never going to let any guy within a hundred yards of her,” Namjoon answered.

“So, we really can’t teach her songs like we would other kids?” Jungkook asked.

“Not unless you want to potentially kill us or her on accident. Trust me, my parents didn’t even realize some of the songs that would be bad.” You leaned back against Jimin.

“So what can we sing?” Jin asked.

“ABC’s.”

Taehyung huffed. “What about—”

“Sshhh. She’s sleeping,” You whispered. “Let’s worry about that when she’s old enough to actually sing. Right now, she’s our perfect little baby. Enjoy it.”

They were quiet for a while.

“Can I teach her how to knock a guy out?” Jungkook asked.

“No!” Hoseok protested at the same time you replied, “Of course.”

Hoseok looked at you in horror.

You shrugged. “She’ll need to protect herself, Hobi. She’s an archivist. We’re a dying breed, you know.”

Jin wrapped his arms around Hoseok. “She’s right. Eventually we’re going to be busy and someone will come for her and we’re going to make her the gentlest and yet fiercest fighter this world has ever seen. Like you, Hobi.”

“I thought you were describing y/n,” Yoongi said, frowning. “She’s going to be just like y/n, but maybe with less running headfirst into danger.”

“Um, you realize that it’s sort of in the job description of Archivist to run head-first into danger?”

“Shush, let us dream,” Jungkook scolded softly. “About no danger, and blissful happiness.”

You were quiet for a while, listening to the birds outside. “There is another option.”

They glanced at you, and then led the way out of the nursery, carefully closing the door to let your daughter sleep in peace while you all retired to the living room. The guys had carefully searched and found this house for the nine of you, it was fairly dilapidated when they bought it, but they had been working so hard to fix it up well for you and Mishil. The younger guys had been working hard to help as well, especially when it came to missions and such. It wasn’t completely renovated yet, but it was fixed enough that you could live there safely with Mishil.

“What other option is there?” Jin asked carefully after stopping Namjoon from asking.

“We could never teach her about artifacts and the archives,” You said, looking at your hands. “It’s not…it’s not an easy road to walk. There are secrets, lies, danger, and so much…isolation. It could end with me.”

They were silent.

“No,” Jimin said firmly. “Never. Not that.”

“But—”

“No, y/n. Look, I know…I was really harsh on you back when we are at the school. I shouldn’t have supposed that you could tell us everything. Some things are better left unsaid. But there were so many times when we realized things would have been so much worse if you hadn’t been out here gathering artifacts. If you hadn’t taught Taehyung what you did, we would have all died before we even got to fighting the school. We were following a lead, and it led us to a museum basement. There was an artifact that…it brought out the worst in us. Taehyungie had some of your silk with him, and he managed to get the artifact away from us and teleport it somewhere safe.”

You looked at Taehyung, worried. “Where?”

“Oh, it’s sort of in Antarctica….” He looked like he had completely forgotten about it.

You nodded. “We’ll go get it later.”

“Anyway, if you hadn’t been doing your job and having Taehyung help you with it, we could have died. Your job is so important, even more so now that we have a daughter,” Jimin continued, voice soft. He met your gaze. “We can’t let your job end. We just have to find new ways of making your job, her future job, easier.”

“We don’t want you to change,” Hoseok told you, kissing your forehead. “Even if you make us worry.”

“Oh, and you guys don’t make me worry?”

“Oh, we definitely do,” Jin answered, smiling. “But you’ve never asked us to change—”

“Actually, she has, usually because we’re overlooking details and she wants us to slow down to take care of ourselves,” Namjoon said.

“Asking us to change and asking us to use common sense are not the same thing,” Yoongi contradicted, laughing.

You shook your head as they all started debating whether asking them to use common sense was asking them to change or not, some for and some against.

Your crazy, chaotic boys.

And you loved them so completely.

They were the melody in your heart.

Previous.

Masterlist. ~ Series Masterpost.

Tagging: @ephemeral-mindset, @alex–awesome–22, @bryvada, @missmoxxiesworld, @knjhe, @i-dont-even-know-fck

35 notes · View notes

impulsive-astrophile · 4 years

Text

Find me defenseless (Chapter 4)

(Chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3)

Summary: “How did you get Mulder’s phone?” She asks, praying she’s wrong.

“Haven’t you guessed?” Comes the voice. “He’s with me. Say hi, Fox.” A pained grunt is the only response. “Now, now, Fox, what have we said about using our words?”

A muffled “fuck you” comes through the speaker then, followed by a chiding, “manners! Where are your manners?” and the sharp sound of skin on skin.

Scully’s heart races, anger making her feel red-hot. No one touches her Mulder. “Don’t you hurt him, you son of a bitch!”

OR:

Mulder is called to Des Moines, Iowa, without Scully to profile a serial killer targeting young men with military/law enforcement backgrounds - but without Scully there to watch his back, Mulder is kidnapped by the killer. When Scully gets a taunting call from the killer, she flies to Des Moines and raises hell to get him back. Mulder’s hers, and she’ll be damned if anyone stands between her and whoever dares to hurt him.

Words: 2995, Chapters: 4/5, Language: English

Fandom: The X-Files

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: F/M

Relationship: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully

Characters: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner, Various minor OCs

Additional Tags: Case fic, Casefile, Hurt Fox Mulder, Fox Mulder Whump, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Dana Scully Angst, Protective Dana Scully, Actual Puppy Fox Mulder, Dana Scully Would Flip Tables For Her Man Okay, Profiler Mulder, No betas we own our mistakes and cry about them like men

Read it on AO3, or below the cut!

Fox Mulder’s Hotel Room Des Moines, Iowa June 8 2327

A squad car pulls up outside the Motel 6 where Mulder had been staying. The tires have barely come to a stop when Scully wrenches the passenger door open, stalking toward Mulder's room. The shitty motel wall shakes with the force of the door slamming behind her.

"Get some rest, Agent Scully. You look like you're going to collapse," Skinner had said, not unkindly. "I'll have an officer drive you to Mulder's room and wait outside to take you back in a couple hours." She'd tried to protest, but he'd held up a hand, silencing her. "I'll make it an order if I have to, Agent," he'd warned. "Just go. Try to get some sleep. You're no use to Mulder if you're dead on your feet."

She'd wanted to protest, ask him when he'd last slept, why he wasn't 'getting some rest', but she'd bitten her tongue. He was her boss, and she wasn't going to win. Pick your battles, Dana.

Still, she was angry - at the officer in the car, for taking her away from the search, at Skinner, for being right, at her body, for betraying her and needing rest when Mulder was helpless at the hands of a serial killer. What was a day or so without sleep compared to what Mulder was probably suffering right now?

A haphazard stack of files in Scully's path, unnoticed by her, sends her sprawling to the floor, face landing in a suspicious stain on the carpet. She curses quietly to herself, nose wrinkling as she quickly pushes herself back up and crosses to the bed, which is as cluttered as the rest of the room. Mulder probably hadn't used it once.

She sighs; can't bring herself to care about scattering the files as she pushes them off and flops face down on the bed. The truth is, she is tired - she'd been in a near-constant state of hypervigilance and irritation since she'd arrived, and it was draining.

She's almost considering actually trying to get some sleep when her cell phone rings. The phone is in her hand before she consciously registers moving. "Agent Scully," she answers, breathless.

"Dana," a hauntingly familiar voice greets her from the other line. "It's lovely to hear your voice again."

Scully nearly trips in her haste to get through the door and out to the squad car, hissing, "it's the killer," and gesturing with the phone in her hand to the officer who had climbed out of the car to see what was wrong. The officer scrambles for her radio, calling into the station for a trace.

On the other end, the killer continues. "I feel like I know you. He always dodges my questions about him with a random fact about you. It'd be cute if he wasn't doing it to try to convince me I'm wrong about him. But I'm not dumb, no matter what he might think." The killer's disgust is clear in his tone. "I see right through him. It's actually kind of pathetic." Then his tone turns considering. "He begs for you, you know. When I'm hurting him. He begs you to save him. Do you want to hear?"

She really, really doesn't - but when she throws a questioning glance at the officer and the officer shakes her head, she knows she's going to have to. They need more time for the trace. "Don't hurt him," she threatens, steel in her voice that doesn't match her trembling body.

"Oh, Dana," the killer laughs, "it's a little late for that. But don't worry - I'll just give him a little cut, to get his attention. He's pretty out of it right now." Scully can hear muffled shuffling as the killer moves around, then, "Fox, I have your partner on the phone. Can you say something to her for me?" A pause, followed by a sharp hiss. "Dana," the killer addresses her again, "would you say something to Fox? It might help him to hear your voice."

"Mulder, can you hear me?" Scully says, not allowing her voice to tremble. "Mulder, I'm coming to get you, okay? Just hold on for me."

"S-scully?" A whimper comes over the line. "Scully, please, help me! I'm so scared!" Mulder's voice is desperate, and Scully feels tears gather unbidden in the corners of her eyes. She can’t stand the image of him that comes to mind - alone, hurting, terrified out of his mind.

The killer's voice returns. "See what I mean? Pathetic." The sound of a wet smack and another whimper from Mulder greets Scully from the receiver.

Scully slams her fist against the squad car, trembling. "Damn you! I'm going to kill you!"

"You're welcome to try, Dana." The killer sounds amused. "But you'll have to find me first."

Click.

"Damn it!" Scully whirls around, addressing the officer. "Did we get the trace?" At her nod, Scully all but pushes her into the driver's seat and rounds the car to climb into the opposite side. They tear out of the parking lot before Scully's door is fully shut.

Scully clenches her fists, using all of her restraint to resist telling the officer to go faster. They're already going 20 over the speed limit. Hold on, Mulder, she thinks. I'm coming for you.

Brady Hoover’s House 41.4544508, -93.7130393 (A.K.A. Bumfuck, Nowhere) June 8 2332

Brady Hoover hangs the phone up on the wall, crossing the room to where Mulder hangs, suspended inelegantly from the ceiling by two chains, manacles rubbing his wrists raw. "Your partner will be here soon," Brady says simply. "We don't have much time left." Mulder bites back a whimper as Brady brushes the skin of his arm, reaching up to roll the drip on the IV wide open.

Sometime during day two, Mulder had managed to escape from the chair. He's not sure, now, how he did it, but he wishes he hadn't. His head still hurts where Brady hit him with the bat, and he's had enough cracked ribs to know what the sharp pains he gets when he dares to breathe mean. But that wasn't the worst of it - Brady had also hooked him up to an IV that kept him in a constant state of panic and made even the slightest touch agony.

He doesn't feel the effects of the opened drip right away. Emboldened by the knowledge that Scully's on her way, Mulder spits in his captors face.

Brady's expression shifts to fury as he wipes away the saliva and delivers a swift blow to Mulder's stomach. "You're going to regret that, you little brat." Mulder's heart begins to race as Brady turns away, pulling a cart up from out of his field of vision. The cart has a bucket of water on it, in addition to a few electrical instruments and several blades, long and short.

It’s less of a selection than he usually brings, Mulder thinks to himself absently as Brady approaches, a smirk creeping across the killer’s face. Mulder’s pupils dilate, muscles clenching and heart pounding so hard he wonders how it hasn’t beat its way out of his chest yet. Panic threatens to overwhelm him. Fuckfuckfuck, please get here soon, Scully.

With the last of his composure, he chokes out, “Scully is gonna kill you.”

Brady chuckles humorlessly. “I know. In fact, I’m counting on it - but she’ll watch you die first. Now,” he indicates the door at the top of the basement stairs, “we only have about twenty minutes until your partner busts in here, and I still plan to have plenty of fun with you. Let’s get started, shall we?” He selects a short knife, holding it up to the light as if to inspect it. The blade gleams ominously.

Mulder’s vision is blurry as he watches the knife find a home on the skin over his breastbone. He forgets to breathe as his world narrows to the sharp, burning path the blade slices down his front. The cut is shallow, barely bleeds, but to Mulder it’s agony. A scream tears its way out of his already raw throat and he chokes on a sob.

Worldlessly, Brady drags the blade across the planes of Mulder’s chest, back, thighs -- painting him with anguish and savoring his broken cries.

Mulder is pure sensation. Pain dances down his back, up his thigh, burns across his shoulders and curves over his ribs. Eventually, he feels something slick, dripping down his skin, and the pain changes. It starts with a point; a tingle that spreads and rapidly builds into a crushing, stabbing pain, his muscles jumping with the force of it. It comes again and again and again and he forgets what it was like to feel anything else. He has never known anything but this.

To Hoover, this is bliss, this is relief. Someone is finally paying for what his best friend had done to him. He can feel weight lift off his shoulders with each cut, each scream making his heart sing. The electricity brings a new pleasure; the body beneath him dances and gasps, soaked in its own juices. Each shock breathes life into his soul and he forgets what being broken feels like. He will never know a greater joy.

Just Outside Brady Hoover’s House Bumfuck, Nowhere June 8 2350

Scully and the officer screech up outside the house in a cloud of dust, lights and sirens blaring. Scully jumps out of the car, gun drawn, as soon as the tires have come to a stop, ready to charge straight into the jaws of death to get her partner back.

The officer dashes after her, grabbing her arm. “Agent Scully, wait! We don’t have any backup. For all we know, we could be walking right into a trap. It’d be suicide.”

“He’s my partner. I’m going in.” Scully wrenches her arm away, watching with satisfaction as the officer stumbles back.

But the officer doesn’t back down. “Agent Scully,” she grabs her arm again, shaking her, “Dana, it’s going to be a shitshow in there. If we go in without backup, we could get killed. We could get your partner killed.”

Three years ago, Scully would’ve agreed with her. Three years ago, she would’ve played it by the book and waited faithfully for backup. Three years ago, she would’ve let him die.

But three years ago, she hadn’t met Fox Mulder; hadn’t spent late nights on the road with him driving to the middle of nowhere, hunted ghosts and shapeshifters and aliens and cannibals at his side. Hadn’t learned to be fond of the way he cracks sunflower seeds at all hours, or how he can’t sit still for five minutes, or how he could go on for hours about everything and nothing. Hadn’t known what it was like to follow someone to hell and back thirty times over, crawling out side-by-side, beaten and bloody but still alive.

How could she not follow him into the dark one more time?

Resolute, Scully wrenches her arm out of the officer’s grip again. “You don’t understand,” she says, looking the officer in the eyes. “He’s my partner. I’m not leaving him in there for one more second.”

Something that might be understanding flickers in the officer’s gaze. She nods at Scully, drawing her own weapon. “Okay. Let’s get your partner.”

The pair approaches the house side-by-side. The officer breaches the front door and the two work quickly to clear the house before finding the door to the basement. This door opens out, so Scully decides to try the knob before trying to kick it down; God must be smiling on her that day, because the knob turns easily and gives way to a set of cement stairs.

On the count of three, Scully and the officer charge down the stairs, speaking in unison, “FBI, freeze! Hands in the air!” “DMPD! Stay right where you are!”

The sight they’re met with when they reach the bottom stops them in their tracks. A blond-haired man, about 5’10’’, stands in front of Mulder, a cattle prod held loosely in one hand. Mulder hangs limply from chains attached to the ceiling, angry cuts and burn marks littering his body. His muscles twitch sporadically and his eyes are glazed over as if he is no longer present.

It seems to take the man a moment to register their presence, but once he does, the look in his eyes turns a little manic and he drops the cattle prod in favor of a knife. In a flash he has the tip pressed to Mulder’s thigh, right where Scully knows the femoral artery is. Mulder lets out a little gasp at the contact but otherwise doesn’t react.

“Don’t come any closer,” the man warns, drawing a pinprick of blood from Mulder’s leg. “I’ll kill him!”

Grip on her gun tightening, knuckles white, Scully counters, “Drop the knife, and I’ll consider not killing you.”

“Oh, but I want you to,” the killer says. Scully falters at this. What? “I’m going to kill your partner, and you’re going to kill me, and I’ll finally be at peace.”

The scream Mulder lets out when the killer plunges the knife into the soft flesh of his leg will haunt her for a long time.

Before she knows it she is squeezing the trigger - but all she gets is a click, telling her the clip is empty. What? I know I had a full clip when we got here… she looks down, seeing the crumpled form of the killer, a puddle of blood forming beneath him. There’s a bullet hole dead-center in his forehead, and she suspects that when an autopsy is done they’ll find the rest of her clip center-mass - but as far as she’s concerned, he got off easy. If the situation had permitted, she’s not sure she would’ve been able to prevent herself from beating the shit out of him - not entirely sure, for that matter, she would’ve wanted to.

But none of that matters now; he’s dead, and Mulder’s bleeding out.

Scully drops her gun -- barrel still smoking -- and rushes to Mulder’s side. “Help me get him down,” she demands of the officer, who rushes to comply.

Scully grabs Mulder around the waist, grunting with effort as she hoists him up as much as she can to ease the tension on the chains he’s suspended by. The manacles around Mulder’s wrists are secured firmly by padlocks, but the officer doesn’t waste time looking for the keys, choosing instead to shoot them off. Scully spares half a thought to be grateful for her quick thinking as the two of them work to get Mulder laid out on the floor.

With Mulder on his back, Scully gets a closer look at the damage to his leg - and breathes a sigh of relief. The knife hadn’t gone too deep, and by sheer dumb luck, the killer had managed to miss the femoral artery entirely.

Sometimes she thinks Fox Mulder might just be the luckiest unlucky son of a bitch in the world; his sister had been kidnapped when he was a kid, his mother had almost died, he frequently found himself at the heart of near-deadly government conspiracies - and yet, despite all of this, his would-be killer had somehow missed the artery he’d been perfectly poised to sever. He would’ve bled out in minutes, and there would’ve been very little Scully could do about it in such a remote location.

Scully pulls off her blazer, whispering hushed apologies to him as she presses it firmly around the hilt of the knife. He whimpers. She glances up, noticing his hitched sobs and the rapid beat of his heart visible through his chest. Her eyes search out the officer, jerking her chin toward Mulder’s leg and snapping, “hold pressure here. I need to check him for other injuries.”

The officer complies immediately, sure hands replacing Scully’s around the wound. “Backup and an ambulance are two minutes out,” she tells Scully, and sure enough, the sound of sirens blaring approaches rapidly.

Scully jerks her head up and down in acknowledgment, hands already probing Mulder for further injuries. She notes at least 10 long but superficial lacerations in various locations along his body in addition to several burn marks -- mostly electrical -- of varying degrees of severity, taking particular notice of the way even the slightest touch makes him gasp out in pain.

Finally, she locates the cause: an IV taped to Mulder’s arm. That explains heightened stress response and sensitivity to pain, she thinks to herself, reading the label on the now-empty bag.

“Oh, Mulder,” Scully says, discarding the bag and pulling Mulder’s head into her lap. She runs bloody fingers through his hair and silently curses his tormentor, wishing she could’ve put a couple more bullets into the man. Mulder whimpers, trying to pull away. “It’s okay, Mulder. You’re going to be okay,” she whispers to him.

He blinks up at her with unfocused eyes. “Scully?”

“It’s me, Mulder,” she assures him.

“Scully.” He closes his eyes, wincing but leaning into her touch all the same. “Hurts,” he gasps out.

“I know, sweetheart,” she says, pet name slipping out unnoticed as she strokes one hand, feather-light, through his hair. The other flutters around his forehead, face, chin - anywhere she can reach, trying to ground him without causing more pain. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now.” His hands grasp at her slacks, shifting so he can bury his face in her stomach.

He cries.

He cries, pulling her impossibly closer, and Scully’s heart breaks. This has to be hurting him, she knows, but he’s so desperate for comfort that he’s willing to take the pain if it means he can be closer to her.

Tears slip out of her eyes unbidden as she whispers, “you’re safe now, Mulder. You’re mine, and I have you, and no one’s going to hurt you again.”

(chapter 5)

#fic #xf fic #mine #my writing #msr #The X-Files #X-files #casefile #case fic #protective dana scully #actual puppy fox mulder

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intelligentdumbass · 4 years

Text

Can't I Get a Break? (part 1)

(Again, beware of typos. I have no idea how this turned into what it is now, but it is what it is.)

Hermes pushed the door open and nearly tripped on one of goldie’s many stray brushes. The floor was also littered with paintings and marble statues of varying shapes and sizes scattered all over.

“Apollo?”

“You need something Herms?”

The blonde was in the corner, sitting down on a cushion, his eyes still focused on the canvas on his lap even when his brother was already standing over him.

“Dude, what’re you doing here? The wedding is about to start!”

“Eh? I thought it wasn’t until two months from now?”

Hermes stared, and wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Look, I don’t know what day you think it is, but I wasn’t lying when I said that the wedding is about to start.”

Apollo frowned, but then laughed when his instincts told him Hermes was telling the truth.

“Ah, shit. The girls are probably wondering where I am-” He immediately stood up and ran off into another room. “You can go on ahead Herm! I swear I’ll catch up.”

When the god took a glance at the painting he left on the cushion, he suddenly understood. It was a work in progress of Asclepius’ worktable covered in ashes.

---------------------------------

Olympus’ garden was breath-taking; bioluminescent flowers blooming under the moonlight. The gods were having the time of their lives, drunkenly singing under the serene night sky.

Hermes couldn’t help but subtly gaze back at Apollo every now and then. Despite all the fun the sun god was having dancing with the muses, their conversation in the studio made him felt like something was off.

Then someone caught him off guard by wrapping an arm around his shoulder, and he instantly knew who it was the second he smelled the wine in his breath.

“Jealous?~” Dionysus wiggled his eyebrows.

Hermes raised an eyebrow. “Jealous of what?”

Dionysus motions to the muses; it was at that moment that Calliope had her arms wrapped around Apollo’s neck as the god gave her a small kiss. Hermes rolled his eyes, but oh little did he know, he was faintly blushing.

The younger brother sighed.

“Look man, if you’re going to keep this up, then you‘re absolutely hopeless. I mean, at this point literally everyone except the distracted dumbass you haven’t confessed to knows that you want a piece of that-”

“Hahahaha, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, have you seen Eris? I heard she wasn’t invited-”

“Hey! Don’t change the subject.” Dionysus glanced back and frowned. “Huh, where’d he go?”

Hermes followed his gaze and sure enough, Apollo was nowhere to be seen; just the muses chatting amongst themselves, along with a few other immortals. The wine god scanned the rest of the guests at the party, and gave his friend a confused look, who just shrugged in response. Then before he knew it, Hermes was being dragged by the arm over to the group of gossiping sisters.

Urania saw them first and waved, while Thalia gave the messenger a knowing grin.

“You looking for Apollo?”

He internally cursed. His brother was right, everyone did know. Before he could say a word, his companion answered for him.

“Yeah. Wasn’t he with you guys just a minute ago?”

Melpomene and Polyhymnia gave each other a look, before turning to Calliope. She sighed.

“He said something about taking a break.”

“Apollo? A break?” Dionysus looked up, at the moon. “But it hasn’t even reached midnight yet.”

The goddess’ smile became just a tiny bit strained. “I know.”

Hermes frowned. “Did you manage to catch where he ran off to?”

---------------------------------

The garden was huge; its depths filled with paths most don’t even know of. Luckily Hermes knew his way around it like the back of his head. After all, he’s got good experience sneaking inside the garden from one of its many secret entrances.

The other deities’ slurred laughter were getting more and more muffled, until it was replaced by the crickets and the foliage crunching under his steps. Then out of nowhere came the familiar sounds of a certain lyre. His brisk walk slowed into a halt. He found the god of music sitting down on top of a small hill, back resting against the trunk of an old oak. He had a feeling he would’ve found him here. This spot was one of their favorites, because it also happened to be right in front of a giant crevice that overlooked a big chunk of the earth. The view was spectacular.

Apollo didn’t notice Hermes’ presence until he had already sat down next to him, which made him flinch.

“H-” “Hermes!” He glared.

“What?”

“You could’ve at least said something! Gods, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

The messenger resisted the urge to laugh and just innocently grinned, while his friend sighed. His gaze then went to the turtle lyre in the musician’s hands.

“I still can’t believe you kept that. I mean, it’s not just that you kept it. It’s the fact that I always see you actually use it.”

Apollo smiled, with a look in his eyes that basically said, ‘Why wouldn’t I?’

“It’s a very good instrument, even if it was just made by some annoying toddler. Besides, the other one gives me bad memories.” He pauses for a moment. “What’re you doing here? You couldn’t find someone to flirt with?”

“I was looking for you.”

“Did someone need me?”

“Nah, if that were the case then I would’ve already told you. I was just… concerned?”

The blonde seemed confused; now Hermes was the one who sighed.

“Did you really spend two months just, holed up in that room?”

“Maybe, what of it?” The lyre went silent.

Hermes frowned, but after a few moments of thought decided to stand up.

“Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, but considering what happened, you probably just wanted some alone time-”

“Nono, it’s fine.” His voice was so soft he almost didn’t hear it. “Please don’t leave.”

And so the god sat back down, this time inching a little closer so that their sides were touching. Apollo saw him glance at the lyre again.

“You want to play something? Go on ahead.” He hands it over. “I suddenly don’t.”

For a few minutes that’s all it was, Hermes strumming on his lyre while the crickets sung; Apollo staring into the distance.

“Wait.” For a brief moment, Apollo’s eyes lit up like a pair of miniature suns.

“Hm?” Hermes paused.

“Nonono, keep on playing. It was just… isn’t that the song you played to me? When you tried to convince me that it was totally worth trading half of my cows for?”

“Y-” “Yeah.” He was surprised. ‘How do you still remember that?’

Hermes continued to strum, but now his cheeks were starting to burn up. It doesn’t look like Apollo noticed though.

“Am I unreasonable, Hermes?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m one of father’s older kids, hell, his literal oldest son. You’d think I’d get used to this now.” He picks up a handful of dirt and just lets the soil fall through his fingers.

“Well, it… wasn’t really a natural death now, was it? Dude, if that happened to my kid I’d be pissed at dad too even if he had a reason for it.”

“I don’t know I’m just… I’m so tired of this.” At first it was a hand on his shoulder, but he quickly ended up hugging him; pulling him even closer and wrapping his arms around the messenger’s waist. “I’m so fucking sick of this shit.”

Despite how much that had startled him and the fact that he was internally screaming right now, Hermes still managed a smile. At this point, the blonde had his face buried into his shoulder. The younger god stopped strumming on the lyre and gave his friend a gentle pat on the back.

“I know that I shouldn’t be making a big deal out of this but-” “but I can’t not!” His rants were loud murmurs; like yelling but in soft whispers with the occasional muffled sniffs and whimpers. “I can’t stop thinking about things like this. I don’t know why. Is there something wrong with me? I know everything dies and that what Asclepius did was a crime against the fates, why can’t my brain just shut up about it!”

“Hey, Hey look at me.”

After half a minute of silence, Apollo reluctantly looked up.

“Don’t beat yourself up like that.” Hermes putted the lyre aside and wiped away some of the tears trailing down his cheeks. “You’re not unreasonable. I mean, have you seen the shit the rest of this fucked up family tree of ours has been up to? I’d argue you’re actually one of the most reasonable.”

“Oh, of course you’d think that-”

“Shhhh” He cut him off by giving him a small kiss on the forehead.

Apollo faintly blushed and then started staring off into oblivion again; resting his head on Hermes’ shoulder.

“I guess at least…” He murmured. “At least you guys aren’t going to suddenly die on me.”

“I don’t know about that. I can’t exactly guarantee that I won’t do a very stupid prank that might get me kicked into Tartarus.”

“Tch. Well, there might be a chance that I would’ve been stupid enough to do it with you, so at least with that we’ll both get chucked down into the abyss. Hey who knows, Dio might join us too.”

Hermes laughed, and even the blonde himself couldn’t help but crack a smile.

---------------------------------

“Well” Apollo sighed. “Thanks for putting up with that.”

“Of course.” He takes a quick look at the moon. “Maybe we should go back now. Someone might get worried.”

“I guess.” For a moment there, the god looked like he really didn’t want to leave.

“I mean, I don’t mind spending a few more minutes here if you want to-”

“No, it’s fine. You’re right; we really should be going back now.”

Apollo stood up first, and picked up the lyre; the messenger standing up not long after. The two deities had started to walk back when the younger god suddenly stopped.

“Wait.”

“Hm?” Apollo turned around and frowned. “Something wrong?”

“I… I need to tell you something.” He suddenly felt a little nervous, and couldn’t help but stare a little; maybe even briefly glancing at his lips.

Hermes took a step closer.

“I-” “ACH!-”

But before he could do or say anything else, he felt something hard smack him right in the face. He probably would’ve fallen back onto the ground if Apollo hadn’t caught him.

“Are you alright?”

“What…” Hermes rubbed his nose. “What the FUCK was that?!”

Then there was a distant cackle, and it sounded oddly familiar; almost like it came from a certain goddess of chaos.

Out of the corner of his eye, Apollo saw a speck of yellow on the ground. It was an apple made out of solid gold, and there was an inscription scribbled onto it, but that wasn’t why he was staring.

Once his brother had fully recovered from the shock, he let go, for him to stand on his own. The fruit glimmered and sparkled under the ambient moonlight, enticing the immortal to come closer. He crouched down and picked it up. It glowed against his hand, and it flashed against his eyes.

First he felt the heat, like the sun’s solar flares were gently flicking and liking his skin. Then he smelled the stench of thick, red, mortal blood. His limbs were heavy and his stomach tied itself into a knot; his head filled with the slow rhythmic beat of drums, except it wasn’t drums. He wasn’t in the garden anymore; he was in a temple, his temple. He knew because of the statues, but they weren’t the only company he had in this large, hollow room.

There was a stranger in front of him; their steps the source of those loud, steady thumps as they gradually got closer, and closer…

He was a god, he knew he could easily kill them, but instead he found himself backed up against a wall. Then they grabbed him by the throat, and drew their sword. In the heat of the moment, he somehow managed to catch a glimpse his reflection in the glint of their blade.

What he saw wasn’t his face.

But the face had his eyes.

Apollo instinctively dropped the apple and cursed fruit quickly fell back onto the ground. His face was drenched in sweat; his fingers twitching; breath hitching and heaving.

“Apollo? Goldie?!” Hermes rushed towards the blonde and cupped both of his hands. “Hey buddy, what’s wrong?”

The god inhaled, and exhaled; closing his eyes. He squeezed both of the messenger’s hands and forced himself to calm down. When he started coming back to his senses, he glanced around, but the apple was already gone.

“Hermes, where did that cursed piece of golden shit go?!”

Hermes blinked, surprised. “I… don’t know?”

But what he did saw, was a few black feathers as dark as the sky above them. They were scattered along the path that led back to the main event.

“…Hermes I need that fucking apple.”

“Huh? What? Why-” “Hey, HEY! APOLLO WAIT!!”

Apollo had started to run back towards the wedding, and Hermes was right behind him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

#Apollo #Hermes #greek mythology #greek gods #MyWritingShit #golden apple #Rip Hermes

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buttered-ghost-toast · 4 years

Note

Listen, if you don't fill out all of those numbers and tell me everything about your MC I'm going to feel robbed

Oh geez, fam! ...aight. That took me a minute. But below you will find out more about my girl, Niri!

1. What is their favourite food?—

Cheeseburgers and carrots.

2. Do they have a fear of an animal? If so, what animal? –

Not a fan of snakes, lizards, frogs, sharks.

3. What do they wear to bed? –

Shorts and a t-shirt. Sometimes nothing at all!! That had to stop when she moved into the HoL though. Brothers poppin’ in at all hours gettin’ an eyeful. Lucifer was upset.

4. Do they like cuddling?—

1000000000%. Niri’s a big ol’ cuddle bug. Asmo’s all about it. So is Beel.

5. Do they have a secret handshake with anyone? -- With Astaroth. It’s quite elaborate and they only ever do it when they decide to get up to trouble.

6. What do they look like? –

She cute if I may say so myselffff (don’t judge me, she’s a self insert hah!) Mid to slightly above average height for a human female, fairly toned. Brown eyes, mid-back length hair that’s brown at the root, fades to a teal and purple under layers. Sometimes her hair will fade to a light yellowy-green. She has the hookup for dye from Barbatos who likes to procure things for her from the human realm. She also has quite a few tattoos.

7. Do they like chocolate? –

Only dark. She’s allergic to additives in certain milk chocolates so she doesn’t eat it much.

8. What are their good and bad traits?

Good: Helpful, kind, encouraging, quite a hard worker in any task given her.

Bad: Easily swept up into trouble by others, will prioritize naps over other stuff sometimes, awfully flirtatious which gets her in hot water with Lucifer because apparently lesser demons keep poppin’ by the house with gifts also HUMAN, DID YOU REALLY JUST SAY THAT TO LORD DIAVOLO?! Oopsssssss~ Also, you know how Luci’s always doing the “MAAAAMMMOOOONNNNN…”…yeah, that’s almost always followed by “NIIIIIRIIIIIIIIII….”

9. Do they have any artistic talent?

Yes. She’s a musician so there’s that…and she likes to paint.

10. What is their favourite room to be in, in the house they live in?

She likes the music room since the boys tend to spend quite a bit of time in there together, but she’s usually found in the kitchen making loads of food and baked goods…also, that’s where you’re more likely to find Beel, and she reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally likes Beel.

11. Do they believe in luck?

To an extent. She believes that luck exists, but she thinks relying on it is a bit naïve.

12. Can they do magic?

Like pull a rabbit out of a hat type thing? Yes. She picked up a few little tricks here and there from a friend who loves show magic. Def not the real stuff though.

13. Do they believe in dragons?

She didn’t until she went to the Devildom. Not that they just have dragons hangin’ out all willy-nilly, but she’s heard stories from the brothers and others about dragons.

14. What is a pet peeve of theirs?

Rudeness and liars who don’t give up even after they’ve been caught in the lie. Also people who demand things of others as if they’re property and not living beings with feelings …this isn’t about Belphegor at all. Nope. She doesn’t have issues with him still.

15. What was the last thing they cried about?

She was able to talk to all her bandmates at once for her weekly call home. They all just really miss each other, ok? It sucks that she has to lie to them about where she is because she knows they’re worried about her, but it was just nice to hear their voices.

16. What is their sexuality?

Pan.

17. Do they have a best friend? If so, who, and what makes them their best friend?

We’ll narrow this down to the Devildom. Niri gets along with everyone and literally loves all the beings she’s met and knows she could count on them for most anything, but there’s definitely a more solid feeling to her connection with Beelzebub. They sort of just get to be vulnerable and entirely open with one another and there is never judgement or ill will, even when Beel eats her secret snack stash…again.

She’s kind of getting to that point with Astaroth as well, but she can sense he’s still a little guarded in certain aspects, and she’s not going to push.

18. Have they ever been in a romantic relationship?

Yes, quite a few. It’s not her favorite thing to talk about since she’s been quite unlucky in that aspect, but hey, the past is the past.

19. What does their relationship with their family look like? Are they close? Distant? Ect.

Her actual family family (with the exception of her brother) are not close in the least. They’re sort of barely on speaking terms. Her chosen family (comprised of her band and some of the closest staff) is extremely close.

20. Do they have a pet?

No. She loves animals and had a dog up until recently, but they passed. It’s okay though, they had a good long life and it wasn’t painful for them when it happened.

21. Do they have a familiar?

Nope. Non-magical.

22. Are they a supernatural being?

Nope! “Boring” human, but she does seem to always find herself in weird situations that are sorta paranormal.

23. How do they usually wear their hair?

It really just depends on the day. If she had time to work on it, it’s down and straight. If it’s a rush in the morning (read: fight for the bathroom because Beel won’t MOVE) she’ll toss it in a bun or ponytail depending on how hot it is outside. There are the odd days when she’ll just let it vibe in its natural wavy/curly state, but she kind of got fed up with the brothers calling her a sheep because it’s so fluffy.

24. Can they play an instrument? If so, what instrument and what can they play?

Yes! She learned guitar and bass at a young age and was tinkering with drums before she was whisked away to the Devildom.

25. What type a high schooler are/were they?

She was the quiet weird kid that didn’t quite fit in with the weird weird crowd, but also wasn’t popular. Plenty of people knew her or of her, but she mainly stuck with her group of friends and was nice to everyone.

26. Have they ever been in a physical fight before? If so, with who? Who won?

Yes. Just small bits of violence. No one of import, tbh. But there was that one time they all went out to party at the fall and Mammon and Levi started teasing her and in her drunken state, Niri went to punch Mammon who managed to duck so she hit Levi square in the nose. He was fiiiiiiine.

27. What is their favourite holiday?

Halloween because it’s fun, Christmas because of the togetherness, and EASTER BECAUSE MARSHMALLOW PEEPS!

28. If they could have one wish, what would they wish for?

A pass to go from the Devildom to the Human realm and back whenever she wants forever.

29. Do they wants kids? If they already have kids, do they want more?

No. Never.

30. Do they have a job?

Yes? Being a singer in a band is a job, right? It doesn’t always feel like a job because it’s awesome, but it’s a job.

31. Do they know how to drive?

Yes. She has convinced Mammon to let her drive his car on a few occasions and every time they get back he swears NEVER AGAIN. She a little speed demon.

32. Do they get stressed out easily?

Funny story, actually…YES. But she is pretty good at not letting it show. So on the outside she’s like la-la-la~ but inside it’s all AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA~~~

33. Did they ever dye their hair before? If so, to what colour? Did they like it?

Absolutely lol. Niri has gone through a few colors in her life, but her favorite is and always will be the teal. (Fun fact: the purple came from a happy accident a few years back when she dyed over a pink shade and a layer turned out purple. She liked it so now she does it that way on purpose.)

34. Have they ever broken the law?

Never anything egregious, but she’s gotten tickets for stuff in the human world. Disturbing the peace, speeding, she was fined once (along with her bandmates) for a surprise free show they did in front of a train station which got a lot more attention than they were expecting and wound up shutting down a couple city blocks. Oooooooooopsss~

35. Do they own a plant?

She’s really bad with plants. REALLY bad. She was gifted a plant by Simeon a couple weeks into the exchange program and it took an embarrassingly long time for her to notice it was a fake plant…since he knows she sucks at keeping things alive.

36. Have they ever rode a horse before?

Once, and it was a terrifying experience so she just keeps her distance now.

37. What is their favorite gif?

anything featuring Titus Andromedon.

38. Do they get along with others easily?

She tries to. It’s not always possible, but she tries, dammit!

39. Do they have any tattoos?

Several, yes. One arm sleeve done, starting the other arm, both thighs have massive pieces on them and both ribs done as well. There are also a few small things on her fingers and back.

40. If I wanted to draw them, what would be distinct physical features that I would have to know to draw them correctly?

Lotta hair. Looooooottttta hair. And heavily winged eyeliner. Big lashes.

41. What is their favourite breed of dog?

Huskies. They’re just so cute and sassy! And perfectly sized!! Great cuddle buddies and fun to run with!

42. Do they live with anyone? If so, who?

Not in the human world, but she’s got 7 kinda irritating roomies in the Devildom!

43. Where is their dream vacation?

She’s traveled extensively, so there isn’t anywhere she dreams of going that she hasn’t already seen. Her favorite place is anywhere mountainous and lush.

44. Do they know more than one language?

Yep. Niri’s a language nerd. Because she likes to speak to fans and stuff, she has set it on herself to learn as many languages as she can. She’s not perfectly fluent in all of them, but it’s a good handful that she can hold a full conversation in. She and Satan like to practice with one another around the house, despite complaints from the others.

45. Are they a quick learner?

Depends. Most things, yes…..math and processes requiring math, NO.

46. Have they ever won a contest before? If so, what for? What did they win?

No, she’s not really the luck having type.

47. If the world were to end in 24 hours, where would they be and who would they be with?

Probably hugging Beel. They hug often. They’re kinda always together. It’s gross according to Leviathan and Belphegor.

48. What does their room look like?

She didn’t change much in the room she was given at the HoL. Just added her fake plant from Simeon and a few human things…she actually got the “Hang in There” kitty poster just for kicks. Lucifer hates it.

49. If they could have an extinct animal for a pet, what would they have?

A dodo bird. Because they’re weird and cool.

50. If they got called out by someone, what would they do?

Laugh and argue probably. Depends what they’re calling her out on.

51. Have they ever shot a gun before?

Yep. Actually enjoys shooting, it’s a fun stress reliever. She makes a point to drop by shooting ranges every once in a while back home.

52. Have they ever been axe throwing?

Once at a renaissance festival on an odd week of downtime. She didn’t do so well. The throwing was fine, but she never hit the target. Just be glad she didn’t hit a person either!

53. What is something that they want but can’t have?

At the moment, all the people she loves in one place.

54. Do they know how to fish?

Nope! She’s a mess with that kind of thing. Also, she doesn’t like the idea of fishing for anything herself. It makes her cry to think of the fish on the hook :<.

55. What is something they always wanted to do but too scared?

Hmm…Niri tries to live her life in a way that she won’t have regrets, so even if something is scary, she’ll pluck up the courage to do it. But…she still hasn’t jumped out of a plane.

56. Do they own their own baby pictures?

Absolutely not. She cringes thinking of the outfits her parents used to put her in, so she did her best to keep those kinds of things buried and acts like they never existed. Nope. Was never a baby. Nope.

57. What makes them standout among others?

Niri is a pro at pretending she’s confident, so she tends to draw attention when she walks in a room like she owns the place. Also her hair is kinda bright.

58. Do they like to show off?

Not really. She’s flamboyant in a sense, but she doesn’t go out of her way to call attention or to be center stage…heh.

59. What is their favourite song?

She can never pick, honestly. There are so many songs that are so amazing!

60. What would be their dream vehicle?

That’s a very good question. Probably something sitting in her garage back home. Probably being driven by one of her bandmates. Because hey, what are friends for?

61. What is their favourite book?

Not that she isn’t a big reader, but she doesn’t really get the time to enjoy books. There’s always something that needs attention or someplace to be and she’s required to engage, so focusing on a book or story is hard, but she’s a fan of classic novels, poetry, and Greek tragedies are always good!

62. Who, in their opinion, makes the best food?

She likes everything Barbatos makes and thinks Luke’s desserts are fantastic, but there’s something about a human recipe that just warms her heart, so…..herself. Lol.

63. Are they approachable?

Absolutely! If you can get past her intimidating resting face.

64. Did they ever change their appearance?

Not drastically, but she has gone through a few different phases until settling on a good one.

65. What makes them smile?

The silliness of those around her. Thinking of good memories with family/friends. Puppies.

66. Do they like glowsticks?

Yes. She has a stockpile of glowsticks that the brothers keep adding to.

67. What is something that is simple, but always makes them smile?

Watching the brothers bicker, even if it’s getting out of hand. It reminds her of her friends and how they always pick on one another.

68. Are they a day or night person?

Night, usually. Not that she dislikes the daytime, but day usually has so much stuff to be done whereas night is the fun stuff that doesn’t need a schedule.

69. Are they allergic to anything?

Some milk chocolate, bell peppers, and certain devildom plants.

70. What do you, the creator of this OC, like most about them?

She’s a spunky little thing who loves to have fun and make others smile above all else.

71. Who is their ride or die?

In the Devildom, Beelzebub and Astaroth.

Beel for most things, and Asta for the stuff Beel won’t do.

72. Do they currently have a significant other? If not, are they going to get one later one?

Erm…eh…look, it’s never been officially labeled or anything, ok? Like yeah they’re kind always together and have pet names for each other and like always touch and cuddle and like snuggle up in bed together and stuffffffffffff but like, idk? Is Beel her dude? Like….do we wanna even get into that?????? I mean, maybe someday? Like…what? What was the question??

73. What attracts them to another person?

A genuine heart, a killer smile, and a rockin’ bod. Yeah okay look everyone can be a little shallow sometimes okay get off her case >__<.

74. Who is one person that can always make them laugh?

She’s a damn fool and will laugh at ANYTHING, so it’s not hard. Everyone makes her laugh. The girl will 9 times out of 10 laugh at herself for the dumbest moments.

75. Have they ever partied too hard and their friends had to take them home?

Oh yes many times. Many many times. One of the first few times she hung out (went on a date) one-on-one with Beel they had a drinking contest and as it turns out, he can really hold his devil liquor.

76. Who would be their cuddle buddy?

She’ll cuddle up to Beel 99.9% of the time because he’s big and warm and always happy to hold, but she also really enjoys cuddling with Asmodeus. He’s such a sweetie and he smells so nice and they just snuggle and talk and laugh and it’s a nice escape. (Loads of times there are Asmo x Niri x Asta sandwiches in Asmo’s room.)

77. Who would cheer them up after a long day?

She tends to go to one of the brothers depending on what kind of day it’s been. Most of the time it’s gonna be Beel because again, big/warm/happy to hold her, but there are occasions where she’ll drag Beel to one of the others’ rooms and they’ll just hang out.

78. If they had a nightmare, who would they run to?

I mean…Beel. Lol. He’s right there.

79. What object to the care for the most?

She has a picture of her friends from back home that sits on her desk. She treasures that above all while she’s down in the Devildom.

80. Do they like other people’s children?

Sure. Kids are fine as long as they go back to their parents after a bit.

81. How would they react if someone broke into their home?

Seeing as there’s always someone coming into her room regardless if she’s there or not, she probably would just shrug it off. If someone decided to have a bad lapse in judgement and break into the HoL? She wouldn’t have to lift a finger.

82. Does anyone make them have butterflies in their stomach?

I mean….Beel. Lol. He so big and cute! Also Diavolo because he also big and cute.

83. What is something that they are good at?

Crying to get out of trouble. She’s a little shit. Lol.

84. What is their neutral expression?

Niri kinda always looks pissed off or uninterested? Until she smiles and you realize oh, she’s just a big ol’ faker.

85. Do they like to cook?

Yes. It’s one of her very favorite things to do!

86. What is something they can’t leave home without?

Her phone! (and Beel) but like, there’s just so much a phone can do!

87. Who is someone that they rely on?

Have I mentioned ever that Simeon is (or was at one time) Niri’s guardian angel? He seems to always be there and ready to help in any way, so she’s pretty reliant on him and hopes he feels the same toward her. (He does. Cue uwu’s)

88. Do they liked to be tickled?

Absolutely not. She’s extremely ticklish and hates being tickled. She flails and cries.

89. Have they ever been a sword fight before?

No. No she has not lol. Unless empty wrapping paper tubes count? She’s done that.

90. What is a joke that they would find funny?

All the bad ones. All of them. Ugly laugh here we go!

91. Do they have a place that can go and turn off their brain?

The gardens at RAD. It’s peaceful and there’s a great view of the sky.

92. What was their childhood like?

Not bad, but not memorable. There was a lot of pressure put on her to be a perfect kid, and she didn’t get to have a whole ton of fun.

93. What are they like as an adult?

Responsible, but definitely fun-loving. Like I mentioned before, she likes to live in a way that she won’t ever regret not having done something she wanted to do, or regret any actions she took, so she’s always got an open mind and welcomes new experiences. She’s a big ol’ kid.

94. Do they take criticism well?

Yes. She welcomes criticism in any form as she is always looking to be the best person she can be.

95. Have they ever jumped out of a plane?

No. Not yet!

96. Who do they like to make jokes with?

Literally anyone. A total joker. Big big clown.

97. Have you ever drawn them before? If you are comfortable with it, would you post a picture?

Yes! I draw Niri every once in a while. I actually need to draw her again soon! I miss that girl.

#asks for Butter #get to know Niri

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adios-gatos · 4 years

Note

I hope I'm not too late for the ask meme, could I ask n° 1 for the boys? Any combo you feel like! - Piraticusdorm

of course you arent dw!!

CONRAD:

BELLUS: - first of all hes already v into the piraticus dorm’s uniform for the shirts mostly and is usually into pretty people so the moment he sees conrad and his flashy fashion hes 👀. though conrad doesnt seem like the kind of person bellus would actually get a crush on?? its likely because hes an authority figure dnksa - not having a crush wouldnt stop him from hitting on conrad occasionally, mostly because bellus enjoys flustering people who seem composed. he does Not understand that being a mermaid in of itself can make others uncomfortable even if theyre in the same dorm - does want to braid some of the water flowers in the lake the boys claimed into conrads hair. if conrad declines he might try to sneak them in as a little game

MERI: - for reasons he wouldnt admit too, somehow meris jealous that conrad has kenns respect?? hes a lil jealous of anyone kenn respects but hes the most jealous over conrad - because of that hes huffy towards conrad and gives him the silent treatment. which doesnt really work on someone who doesnt know you but maybe its a blessing if anything and no one should explain that to meri - meri has made Many plans for pranks against conrad but conrad seems like a v observant guy?? so that and caspian and kenn being there to stop meri makes the situation lowkey feel like a wilde coyote and roadrunner one tbh

CASPIAN: - so like. he and the others had to get over their opinions about pirates pre-nrc quickly when they were put into the piraticus dorm and hes done p well with that. but he still cant stop feeling wary when he sees conrads eye patch and hat he wears in the dorm(?). but kenn likes him and the feeling isnt as bad whenever conrad is in more casual clothing so caspian just tolerates it - even with that, he enjoys the times conrad plays the piano and sings with everyone

KENN: - he has a lot of respect for conrad for being able to manage the dorm and as a result everyone within in. despite that he lowkey avoids talking to him when he can since after moving to nrc hes become Aware of the opinions people have about mermaids mostly because now he cant ignore them. so kenns likely aware of the fact conrad is uncomfortable around mermaids and tries to restrain the others enough where conrad doesnt have to get involved - probably overthinks if his magic specifically makes conrad uncomfortable since his is straight up siren magic. he learned that it isnt acceptable to just use his magic whenever he feels like during first year but since theyre both third years, when kenn remembers how he was when he was still adjusting hes just ‘god conrad saw that.’ hes found hours later by caspian with his head in his hands still embarrassed - vibes a lot with the keeping your word but using any loopholes possible method conrad also uses. may or may not try to subtly point out loopholes to him if he somehow looks over one

TINK:

BELLUS: - likes trying to pick out the bells in tinks voice whenever hes singing and enjoys even more watching tink dance. bellus is most interested in whenever tink flies while dancing but the thought of doing the same makes him a lil skittish. flying seems fun but he isnt fond of the thought of what happens if you fall. you cant fall when youre in water!! - with the fact hes a hopeless romantic, the moment he hears about tinks secret admirer hes !!! and also trying to find out who it is. though if/when he does, he wont tell tink who it is because that Ruins the Suspense!! The Mystery!! that doesnt keep bellus from using knowing that secret to tease tink though so f

MERI: - even if meri isnt the nicest of the gang, he does like tinks pranks and will try to get tink involved in his. especially the ones that involve octavinelle - may Try to not provoke tink besides playful teasing because of the fact he sees tink as a potential prank buddy. he also understands neverland faeries more than mainlanders and non mermaid folk in general so hes more willing to rein himself in if it means tink will join his games - they both have some similar qualities like being quick to act out & fight and having fun at the expense of others. theyd either get along well or butt heads. maybe a bit of both! if they do play pranks together itd be harder for meri to get genuinely mad at tink when they clash. though he might end up treating it like a game and make tink more upset when they do smh

CASPIAN: - thinks its amusing to watch tinks pranks but he wont outwardly show more than maybe a smile at his antics - since he likes people watching and sometimes drawing said people, caspian probably has some drawing of tink in his journal mostly focused on his face. he just remembers all the other neverland faeries hes seen from the lagoons whenever he sees tink and with that, the rest of neverland. so drawing tink reminds a bit of home - even with that association caspian still doesnt talk to tink often like how he does with most other people

KENN: - lowkey associates tink with caspian since they both have the right hand man role going on - also sees tinks pranks as entertaining, its just whenever meri is there too he becomes more wary about the situation - he does want to respect tink since hes a vice dorm leader, its just whenever he sees him around the dorm he cant help but just be internally “whos this lost sassy child..........” the 9 inch height difference they have doesnt help tink out there

KROK:

BELLUS: - for some reason krok Does seem like someone bellus would have a crush on?? itd be a one sided one and off type of crush more than anything but its still there in the background - dnvs i could see bellus unintentionally scaring off krok more than anything with his flirting when its taken into account the reputation neverland mermaids made for themselves. hes out there trying to braid kroks hair and playfully splash him and convince him to sunbathe with the others because theres snacks and kroks just “oh god this guys gonna try to drown me” - so maybe he does also splash people he doesnt like but its about the Context yknow? - a lil confused when he hears that krok cant sing Or play instruments and offers to teach him. which mostly involves getting caspian to teach him because bellus is only a good teacher when the topics about stars. but he Will be willing to sit through the lessons with him

MERI: - hes a lil intimidated by the fact kroks a crocodile even if krok doesnt get into fights in the first place especially unprovoked. though considering meri tends to provoke Everyone, he might have a good reason to be wary - also isnt fond of kroks ability to eat others magic since he relies on his so much. and with the fun combination of meris temper, his unintentional magic usage when hes upset, the fact the piratcus dorms are on the ocean, and that being on a ship doesnt make a boiling ocean any more comfortable, kroks likely had to eat meris magic before. hes still upset about it - even though their height difference is only 4 inches, meri sometimes squats when they do talk out of spite - despite all of that, he does appreciate that kroks an honest person because lying about emotions is such a hassle. though he also thinks that krok not hiding things too takes the fun out of things

CASPIAN: - tbh he cant comprehend the concept of someone not being good at both playing instruments and singing, mostly because hes used to being around music focused magic back home. like?? are you saying you cant even play a shell horn?? what the fuck???? he assumes krok is just fucking with them even if krok tries to prove he isnt - if krok does accept bellus’s offer to learn how to play, caspian is a pretty patient person so hopefully thatd make krok more comfortable? outside of that, caspian does enjoy playing and talking with the fish and birds around the campus so that could be something they could talk about- - caspian does lie a lot though especially to people he isnt close to so that might bring up some issues between them vdsv

KENN: - “caspian theres a weird fucking cat outside” - kenn when he first sees krok sunbathing - he understands wanting time to relax but he doesnt get sleeping all the time. hes used to everyone always wanting to splash and play back home and only stop to brush their hair and sunbathe so someone willingly choosing to just snooze whenever he can?? why’d you do that........ - even if he doesnt understand it he’ll still try to not wake up krok if hes sleeping outside again. sometimes bellus and meri get past him but he does what he can to keep them from bothering him like he does with most - hes v interested in kroks magic tbh since it seems v useful to have on hand. hes also a lil curious about what his own magic tastes like

#asks

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july-19th-club · 4 years

Text

about to just start inventing picard episodes

star trek picard episode whatever “Electric Sheep”: Cris, Raffi, and the gang beam down to pick up supplies for malfunctioning holograms. Soji and Geordi conduct an experiment on lucid dreaming. (geordi’s here because i love him and the experiment they’re doing is ‘if soji puts enough parts of her brain in sleep mode can she or geordi talk to a remnant of her dad in there’ and the result is ‘yes and there are seventeen individual lines of dialogue that will have you bawling like a baby’. then they have to pilot la sirena out of a contested patch of space together because they accidentally let her drift while they were doing weird science and everybody else is planetside having wacky market haggling shenanigans and emmett & enoch are still not online. do they sit in The Correct Spots On The Bridge? brother, it’s the only reason the scene exists)

star trek picard episode whatever 2 electric boogaloo “Dinner and a Holonovel”: Raffi and Seven go on their first official date. Meanwhile, La Sirena receives a coded message from one of Raffi’s mysterious contacts. (in this one Raf and Sev get dressed up but they’re both sort of uncomfortable doing so and they try to have a date but neither of them are enjoying themselves trying to be normal, because Raf’s an old reprobate who’s definitely forgotten how to Have Fun With Others and Sev never learned because it wasn’t relevant to her interests. but then they wind up in some trouble(maybe they deliberately seek it out sort of unconsciously bc they’re bored) and it becomes a fun bar fight date that they really enjoy. everybody else is playing twenty questions trying to figure out this weirdly-encoded message for her bc she’s busy. they come back all bruised and grinning and the whole gang looks up at them with this half-decoded message and is like what kind of life do you lead).

star trek picard episode whatever 2 the sequel “Dr. and Mr. Smith”: Raffi’s contact has asked the crew for their help in a...discreet political matter. (it’s a reverse heist episode starring everyone’s two favorite sort-of-semi-retired-?-spies (if we are spies no we are not. yes we are. no <3). julian and raffi have a very good rapport and sev and garak don’t understand each other AT ALL. yes they are together in this one. no i dont think we need much backstory on when or how it happened i will leave that to the experts and their fucking youtube plays. keep up the good work. what are they reverse-stealing? idk yet it’s just a vehicle for character dynamics anyway).

star trek picard episode we cry a lot “The Daughters”: Soji confronts her legacy when an old friend of her fathers hails La Sirena, eager to repay a debt. (although to be honest, when is our sweet girl NOT confronting her legacy? that bitch is all legacy; she’s got legacy frankly oozing out of her positronic pores. this is partly a story about soji, but it takes a while to get there. first it’s the story of Sarge, who had an imaginary friend when she was six...

she can’t pinpoint exactly when she came up with him, and she doesn’t even remember what she named him - but she knows it happened sometime around the evacuations, and when they all moved back home and the world started growing again - lush and fast from the rich volcanic soil - she used to spend hours playing around with her birthday-gift radio set, ‘talking’ to her imaginary friend. of course, she never got actual replies, but as she aged out of the phase she retained an interest in radio and communications, and her parents indulged it and bought her more and better equipment, enrolled her in science programs, fed her curiosity. until one day as a young adult doing a school project on theoretical outer space transmissions, she arrived at a theory which (she later describes it as a CLICK, like something is settling into place in her brain) could account for the existence of extraterrestrial life, just out of reach. and perhaps, she posits in her presentation, the reason no aliens had yet contacted her world had little to do with them not being there and much to do with them choosing not to respond. the goal, she concluded, was to continue reaching out - to close the gap. she wrapped up the presentation with a nod to nostalgia. “And maybe someday, those friends will be imaginary no more.”

she wins an award for the project, and begins work in her chosen field that’s extremely rewarding, but it is still years before she reaches her second conclusion: the logical leap that if future alien contact was not only possible but likely, her imaginary friend might have been a real person after all. she brings this idea up with her mother one night over dinner, and her mother is somewhat alarmed - what do you mean you think you were talking to aliens, you couldn’t do that on a child’s transmitter kit, adults??? adult aliens? what are you saying they said to you? - but she can’t answer. she doesn’t have clear memories of that time, only an unshakeable conviction that the life she may have contacted is closer than anyone could possibly imagine. and so she starts a new project. she digs out the old childhood kit, fiddles with the dials, finds the frequency she used to tune it to. in her mind’s eye there’s the impression of a clear, frank voice, but no words. she tunes her own, more modern and complex instruments, to the same frequency, and keeps listening.

one day, she hears something. this time, she doesn’t talk first. the next few months are a whirlwind of information-gathering. there are people out there. whole societies. she pieces together the basics of what she’ll eventually learn is the prime directive; enough ships pass by the atmosphere of her world that she’s able to form a working conclusion as to why the come close but never hail. they know we’re down here, she thinks, they just think we’re not ready.

and maybe they don’t have the kind of boats that could get you that far into the sky. but she’s always been resourceful. she picks up a new frequency, and starts listening to starfleet. and after a few months of listening and planning, she starts packing. she takes the kiddie transmitter kit, she takes clothing designed for all-weather wilderness exposure, she takes the kind of emergency preserved food that people used to keep by the pallet in case of earthquake, and she takes a few other trinkets she can’t live without. and when the time is right, she hails. it might be a combination of luck or goodwill, but she manages to convince a passing freighter that she is the stranded comms officer of a downed private ship, the only survivor of the wreck hiding out on a pre-warp world. they beam her up and the first few weeks are very touch-and-go, but she manages to convince them she belongs up here, that the people who look like her are very far away and not just under their feet, darting around her green little world like a hill of bugs under the eyes of giant birds. she gets off at the nearest starbase, and she starts exploring.

she takes numerous vessels to numerous worlds, gathering information all the time. she starts calling herself Sarge, instead of Sarjenka, and it makes people think she’s a military type and nobody bothers her. she stops at a library planet for a month and researches everything she can about the major governing systems in the galaxy. without much to go on - no name, only a vague physical description (tall? pale? humanoid?) - it’s hard to determine exactly what kind of vessel the Friend would have been on, if indeed he existed. the yellow clothes, one of her few clear recollections, lead her to guess starfleet, but starfleet is a massive organization and so many of its vessels have come near her homeworld that it seems unlikely she’ll be able to narrow it down like that. so she tries a different tack, searching for the other two vague faces that she can bring to mind. one is a middle-aged woman, humanoid, but the search turns up nothing; the woman is a doctor who has retired from the organization and now works at a teaching hospital near vulcan. the other is a bald man with a deep voice, humanoid, and his record turns up an absolute deluge of information. she skips past most of it; she’s inpatient now, if anyone knows about the Friend he will, and so she checks his last known location. on board the private supply-class ship La Sirena, captained by ex-starfleet officer Cristobal Rios. Rios is tall, dark-haired, and humanoid, but absolutely nothing about him rings that little mental bell. she checks his last docking location. the ship visited a reclamation site briefly, and then disappears from the record.

but Sarge is nothing if not a searcher, so she adjusts her frequencies and tries again. it’s months before they’re in proximity to one another, months in which she’s taken the opportunity to secure her own vessel, a little rented, dented passenger bucket that’s probably worth more in repairs than the price she got it for. but she trades radio repairs for ship repairs at the port where she buys it, looks up its name (Avis) and finds it acceptable, and then she’s in the sky. she tools around exploring new bases and stations, and keeps the hail open. and one day, it’s answered. a human voice answers. “Avis, we read you. What can we do for you?” they go on-screen with each other, and she sees first the captain - the bearded guy - and then...him. the old man. he is an old man, the bald guy, and his eyebrows raise when he sees her come on the viewer.

“Permission to come on board?” she asks. “I have something which might belong to one of you.”

the old man looks wary for a moment, but then he turns to someone behind him, they exchange some quiet words, and he nods. “Permission granted.”

there’s a young woman waiting for her at the transport platform. shorter than her by a good half meter, humanoid. pale. “Dr. Soji Asha,” she says, “You look...”

and Sarge could swear she’s about to say ‘familiar.’

“Sarge,” she says, and the woman’s small hand grasps her long one in a firm shake, and then waits patiently while Sarge performs greeting, letting her fingers just-not-rest on the woman’s shoulders and arms. “I’m actually looking for an old friend of mine, and I thought you might have his whereabouts. Tall, pale, starfleet officer? Ops gold. I know that’s not much to go on, but if it helps, he would have once contacted and established a rapport with pre-warp Drema IV? Humanoid, but not human. He...” It’s weird. standing here, explaining herself to this quietly-held young woman, Sarge is able to articulate better than ever before her half-formed memories. “He told me once he was a machine.” and then, like another CLICK is settling, she has a name. At last. “Data.” I knew he’d had a name.

the woman’s face lights up and falls in such swift motion it is hard to tell which comes first - the recognition or the sorrow. but they’re both there, clear and present. “Dad died almost twenty years ago,” she says. “But if it helps, I have a positronic clone of his brain.”

Sarge starts laughing; she doesn’t mean to, but the way the woman - Soji - says it, so matter-of-fact, so frank...she stops herself before it’s rude, but Soji’s laughing too. “Sorry, I -”

“No, don’t - how do you - how did you know Dad? Come on, come with me -”

“What happened? I didn’t know him for long, I barely remembered him, but I knew he existed -”

“That’s a long story. Do you want to meet the crew?”

Soji reaches for her hand, and with a feeling of mechanisms interlocking as they properly should, she takes it. they start walking. “Oh.” She’s almost forgotten. “If...if he’s not around to take it back, then this might belong to you.” She reaches in her pocket and holds it out: a small, ceramic singing bird.)

#mr chabon take notes or just hire me #geordi is also in all the other episodes . i really think picard would go from good to great if geordi was there regularly #i miss him sm and im in the middle of tng AS WE SPEAK #i got a little carried away on the last one and it turned into a whole-ass fic maybe #star trek #star trek: picard #this is the post that was incoming and yeah it's all star trek dont @ me #i am really good at star trek

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aweirdkindofyellow · 4 years

Text

The Royal Invitation, Pt. 7

Aerowyn Matilde George Rothchester might seem like a very long name, but it definitely is not for a royal in the Kingdom of Dalewin.

After her grandfather, the beloved king, passed away, Aerowyn (also known as Winny) is called back from her art school in New York. She’s thrown back into her royal duties, expected to know what to do.

But with the Royal advisor on tour with the new king, Winny is left to figure things out with his stepson. The only problem, he has no idea what he’s doing, after all he’s only the lead singer in a band.

Co-written story with @scream-tears.

Chapter 7

Winny’s POV:

“Alright, Mr. Gaskarth, what’s up next,” I asked Alex as we walked back inside through the front doors to the castle. My heels clicked loudly against the marble.

He looked down at the clipboard in his hands. “Well, it seems your schedule is open until dinner, Miss. Rothchester.”

“Very delightful.” I clapped my hands together in satisfaction and gave him a forced smile. “But it is actually Her Royal Highness, Princess of Dalewin, or Princess Aerowyn.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” he shook his head and scanned his document as if he had missed an important point, “I’ve got a princess on my hands.”

“A princess with a shitload of free time all of a sudden,” I snorted. My dad was getting ready to go on his tour and slowly but surely I was getting all these responsibilities that I had to take over now. There was no time for myself.

“What will she be doing with this time? Maybe some sowing or playing the piano?” Alex suggested in a horrible posh accent.

“Hmm, no… she thinks she’ll go out in the sun and play some tennis.” My high heels continued to echo in the hall as I started towards the stairs. “Oh, and she requests your presence.”

“My presence?”

“Yes, your presence.” I stopped to turn around and nod at him before stepping up the stairs. “I’m done talking in third person. See you outside at the tennis court in fifteen minutes.”

“Wait! I don’t know where the tennis court is!” He shouted out.

“Outside!”

I went up to my bedroom to get changed. My feet were more than glad to leave the cage that was my heels. I used to be able to wear them for ages without feeling a thing. It was like I had trained them. But New York has softened me in that aspect. Sneakers were my go to there for everyday attire. Heels weren’t exactly the best to paint in either.

Usually, I had somebody who would lay out the clothes I needed to get changed into, even if it was just getting into pajamas or changing out of formal clothes. The thing was, for somebody to do that, they would have to know. I was assuming that Alex hadn’t notified anybody. I only gave him fifteen minutes to meet me. Given how panicked he was about not knowing where the tennis court was, I guessed he wasn’t going to waste any time.

Not that I minded. I had gotten very used to doing things all by myself and I really enjoyed it. Privacy, who knew it was a thing?

I had a very nice generic tennis outfit to wear. Pretty sexist, if you asked me. You know, the white skirt, white t-shirt, white long socks, and white shoes. Oh, and don’t forget the white visor cap. Although... I was pretty thankful for that one, it was quite sunny outside.

I brought two rackets with me to the court. Alex wasn’t there yet. Granted, I was two minutes early, and he probably had more than just changing to do beforehand, but I still didn’t know what to do. Everything was already set up to my surprise. Two towels, two bottles of water, and even a sunshade with two chairs available.

I wandered around the court aimlessly, only holding my racket. It was in the position you’d expect a guitar or ukulele to be. Although it obviously wasn’t an instrument, I still let my nails rake against the strings as if I was. It made some awkward scratching noise. Nothing like a nice melody.

“Wow, you’re good at playing the guitar,” Alex said behind me, catching me off guard.

I turned around and smirked at him. “I am the lead singer of the world-famous band All Time Low!” I ‘strung’ the strings again dramatically. “The crowd goes wild!”

“Well, aren’t you funny.”

“I know, I’m hilarious,” I agreed and started holding my racket normally, pointing towards the right side of the net. “Your racket’s over there.”

He walked over and picked it up, twirling it around. “Thanks, but I must warn you, I have no idea how to play tennis.”

“You at least know how to hold it, right?”

“Yeah?” He nodded and clumsily put his hands around the handle.

I took a peek at his grip and sighed. “It’s good enough, let’s just play. Rules don’t matter. Yet.”

Alex went over to the otherside of the net as I went to grab a ball. I bent over and bounced it a few times before I got to serving. It always helped me focus on the ball and track it easier. When I looked back up at Alex, I saw him staring right at my but with a hint of amusement on his face.

“Ay!” I called him out and pointed my racket at him aggressively. “Disrespectful!”

“What?” He quickly redirected his eyes back to my face and held his hands up in defense.

“I’ve worked hard for this ass, it deserves to be appreciated, but I’m a princess. That’s the highest level of insult!”

Alex whistled lowly. “Well, I apologise.”

“You better!”

I served the ball, making it wizz across to Alex’s side. He was unprepared and jumped out of its way to avoid getting hurt. The funniest part was the weird yelp he let out as he noticed the ball was zooming right towards him. I couldn’t hold back my laughter.

“I wasn’t prepared!” He whined.

“That’s what they all say.”

I went easier on him afterwards. There was a fine line between messing with him and it being funny and messing with him until it turned into borderline bullying. I actually did need a partner to play with, even if he had no idea what he was doing. The ball went out more often than not and I was racking up points like it was nobody’s business. It was so bad that we had to get rid of the entire point system.

Technically, the game would have gone forever like that, but Augustus interrupted us by simply showing up.

“Somebody told me a pathetic match was being played.” He opened the gate and came sauntering in.

“Umm, excuse me,” I scoffed, “we’re just playing for fun.”

“You’ve just gone soft.”

“You wish!”

“I am feeling a competition coming on.” Alex slowly backed away over to the shade, “so I’m just going to take a break now.”

Augustus and I did not turn down the offer of playing against each other. It was one steamy dramatic game. There was one sport we played avidly in our family and that was tennis. Why? I don’t know. It wasn’t some prestigious sport, but our parents got us started early on. Technically, I had a 4 year headstart on Augustus, but I didn’t play back in New York.

We were going head to head. I would get a point, then Augustus would. It was a constant battle between who would break the tie. There was a heightened suspense all the way up until match point. It was all or nothing.

I served the ball, throwing it up high into the sky. It managed to go back and forth between us for quite a while. We both tried to trick the other, making us run all over. My heart was pumping so quickly. The beat of the ball hitting the ground was drumming in my ears. And then Augustus was the last one to hit it.

“Yes!” He screamed out.

“That was out.” I shook my head.

“No it was not.”

“Umm, yes it was.”

“You’re just a sore loser,” he mocked.

I crossed my arms and gave him a disappointed look. “Am I? Am I really, Gus-Gus?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, why don’t you just let me win if you’re the better loser?” I challenged, to which he looked at me with wide mad eyes. “Maybe you are the sorer loser.”

“No, no, no, you aren’t tricking me! I’d win this easily whether or not that point was given to me.”

“So you’d be down to ignore that point and redo?”

“Umm, yes.” He rolled his eyes as if it was the obvious answer.

I put my hands on my hips and turned to Alex in one swift jump. “You wanna play the winner?”

“I think I’m good,” Alex declined with a small wave of his hand. “Watching you is entertainment enough.”

“We’ll see about that.”

I reserved the ball and the game started again. Augustus was so focused, I could just see it. He kept his eyes on the ball. It was like a puppy following a treat. Part of me wanted to let him win. But what was the fun in that? I couldn’t simply do that. He was the one that agreed to a redo.

I swung harder than I had the entire game, causing the ball to zoom right past the end of Augustus’ racket. It loudly slammed into the metal fence behind him, stopping the ball from rolling down into the gardens, and bounced back towards us.

“What. The. Fuck.” Augustus panned his eyes from the ball to me with his mouth open wide.

I shrugged and gave him a smile. “I was holding back the entire time, sorry.”

“That’s unfair!” He whined and kicked the tennis ball. “You tricked me!”

“It’s all about making your opponent think they have a chance and then swooping in for the kill, Gus-Gus. You should know that by now.”

He repeated my last sentence in a high pitched mocking voice.

“Who’s the sore loser now.”

He glared at me. I had learned to deal with losing, Augustus hadn’t that much. He was more taught to deal with it the same way all kids were. Just told to get over it. I was drilled about it. You can’t have some butthurt queen, can you?

“It’s okay, though,” I decided to cheer him up a little, “you’ll always be better at sparring.”

“I fucking destroy you in that,” he emphasised.

“Okay, now don’t go murdering me in my sleep like some power hungry second born,” I told him sternly while simultaneously brushing him off. I had something much more important to ask Alex. “Wanna play again?”

“Umm,” he frowned with uncertainty.

“We can play as a team against Augustus.”

“I will most definitely make you lose.”

“Why do you think I just got myself a win?”

Alex couldn’t continue to argue with me. I knew he secretly liked playing, so he didn’t need that much convincing. He may have been trying to hide it, but I saw that he was having fun while it was just the two of us playing.

So, we started a new match. The plan was for me and Alex to switch position occasionally, while Augustus just did as he usually would do by himself. I started out in the front and Alex started in the back. Alex was right, we were losing by a lot. The ball would often hit in his zone, and he wouldn’t be able to reach it fast enough. But it didn’t matter.

The longer we played, though, the more focused I got. Good thing for a normal game, not so good when I wasn’t really properly playing in teams. Usually, it would work out perfectly. But, with Alex, it was just a bit all over the place. The ball was flying towards the other side of our half of the court. I rushed towards it, but rather than my racket colliding with the ball, it was my body that collided with Alex’s. I tripped over and found myself on the floor.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry!” Alex quickly apologised.

I just laughed and rolled over on my back. “That was all me.”

“Everything good? No broken bones?” He immediately started worrying.

“I’m all good,” I continued to giggle and sat up, brushing off all the sand on me. “Calm your tits.”

“I’d love to, but if you get hurt, it’s on me.”

“Live a little, Gaskarth.” I slapped his leg and stood back up.

#all time low #all time low fanfiction #all time low imagines #Alex Gaskarth fanfiction #Alex Gaskarth #Alex Gaskarth imagines #fanfiction #The Royal Invitation

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theviolinistfromhell · 5 years

Text

The Devil’s in the Details

“You wish…to terminate your contract with us?” Tired steel blue eyes glanced up from the piece of paper in his hands. They locked with the emerald green of the young woman in front of him, regarding her for a moment as though she were a specimen. These matters were tedious and boring. He expected her to scurry around fearful enough considering her constant anxiety, but a legality was an interesting move. He didn’t quite think she’d had the gall to do so. Leaning back in his seat, Walter Mundy regarded his client for a moment as well as the older short-haired woman seated next to her and the young man that was their lawyer.

His position was slightly bent as he sat, gaze skimming over the document once more. As old as he was, his hearing was still sharp and he listened to the tap of the young woman’s fingers against her lap while she signed to the redhead seated opposite of her. “Mr. Mundy,” Maxwell Borenstein cleared his throat and nodded to the young woman. “My client is prepared to go to court and we are willing to litigate this problem for as long as possible, long enough to give your music company a bad name, as well as decrease the sales of your currently scheduled performances.”

The old man’s lip twitched in a mixture of annoyance and amusement. Hands folding together, Walter Mundy tilted his head to the side at the young woman gazing back at him with a serious expression. His gaze lingered on her furrowed brow and the corner of her mouth twitching in annoyance. It gave him great pleasure at her discomfort. “Miss Wild…” He uttered, his voice was scratchy, almost like sandpaper. “We’ve been over this, darling-“ The Maestro stopped short when he saw the older woman scoot her chair closer.

She had the same expression as his agitator. Despite the flecks of white appearing in her hair, the “guardian” was stoic and not amused at his treatment. Her tone was quick to have a sharp bite to it. “I’d keep your sly dog tongue from waggin’ at this moment, sir. My niece certainly doesn’t approve.”

His hands folded on the desk and the corner of his lips twitched slightly in amusement. “While this is all good and fun, Miss Wild and Mrs.Tisdale, I have a rather busy schedule to attend to as Miss Wild is aware of from her time in our orchestra. Or…has it slipped your mind, darling?” There it was again, that slimy remark.

Her mind was elsewhere in that moment, despite all of her focus on the man in front of her. Her hands clenched at her sides. She did not see Walter Mundy in the present. She saw his visage in her imagination now as it reeled back to a childhood memory. A monster begging for its life as a bigger one savaged the lesser’s spinal column between its gaping jowls and dripping, unhinged, maw. Razor sharp teeth gleamed blood and entrails in the moonlight, but the gaze never left her. The phrase uttered by her employer brought her back to the present though and she found her gumption again. Her knees shook in her seat and despite every fiber of her being telling her to run, the building pressure in her gut, she maintained her ground on the issue.

Dark chocolate waves shook from her head, pulled back into a half-bun, her shifting facial expressions said it all whilst Mara Wild signed her hands at him vehemently. "I’m not your “darling”, Mr. Mundy. I am also not bound to you because you deem to “will” it on paper that has the mad basis that is the same as a contract with the Church of Scientology.”

Sighing, he ran his hand over his face, and inhaled sharply. Ah, to be compared to another egregious mortal cult was both in itself an insult and a compliment . “Miss Wild, we have been over this many times. When you first signed your contract with us, the print was very clear. You would carry it out until you planned to retire.” He watched as the young man at her side with his curly blonde hair and crisp business attire fished around for some paperwork and then chimed in.

Maxwell Borenstein may have looked like any ordinary lawyer, but he had a few tricks up his sleeves. “And while that may be true that she signed the contract within your employment, it is, in fact, illegal to sign life contracts. Might I also add you did so illegally considering she was a minor at the time.” The click of a briefcase opened and Walter Mundy was served a manila folder, glaring at the brown-eyed attorney with his mouth tightened into a thin line. No sooner had the plain little folder come into view, Walter Mundy felt the energy coursing from it. Ah. He was that kind of lawyer. “Please, Mr. Mundy. We can make this legal issue very ugly…my firm and I are known for dealing with…difficult people like yourselves. By difficult I mean-”

“Despicable? Deplorable? Devious?” He was looking for a different word but Maxwell wasn’t going to buy into it or at least adhere to another type of quarrel Walter Mundy wanted to initiate. At this, the Maestro regarded the lawyer with a pleasant smile and he turned it on the girl instead. “Well, Miss Wild. We don’t want things to be messy now do we and it seems I underestimated you.”

“We don’t take lightly to threats in this family, Mr. Mundy. It’s best ya remember that now.” The terseness of the older woman’s tone cut through Walter Mundy’s attempts to “appease” the situation. Ah, yes the aunt. Carol Tisdale had always been a thorn in his side from the day they scoped out Mara’s talents and he couldn’t shake her, nor could he get rid of her either. She might have been donned in hospital scrubs during this meeting and looked seemingly harmless, but no one associated with him was ever anything but a threat.

Hands folded in her lap, Mara blinked at Walter Mundy, and regarded him with indifference. Her gaze never leaving his face for her glare was as livid as her posture in the chair. She watched as he took out his fancy pen from his breast pocket and signed the papers, thrusting them back to the lawyer.

“Pleasure resolving this issue Mr. Mundy,” Maxwell responded curtly, but judging by his tone, the attorney knew this wasn’t going to be so easy. Rising from the chair, he gestured to the girl to usher her towards the door with the older woman. “We keep this quiet now sir and perhaps this can be settled in a civil trial instead of a criminal proceeding.”

"Of course, I certainly hope there are no hard feelings Miss Wild.” Walter Mundy addressed her with a mock bow and extended his hand for her to shake, but she didn’t return the gesture. Oh no. She had given him enough of her time he imagined, but she would still have more to give it would be in time. He was patient. He could wait.

Standing from the chair, she cautiously picked up the violin case that had been seated next to her on the floor. Mara hesitated though as if suspecting this would not be their last encounter. Her fingers clenched around the handle of the instrument case and as it lifted she saw his eyes flit to it for a brief moment. “…No hard feelings at all. Especially not with all of your father’s talents.” She could hear him utter as she slowly turned to exit the door. This wouldn’t be the last encounter with them and even if the contract had been severed, Mara knew better than that. This was far from over.

–

Despite the severance of the contract, she vowed not to let the intimidation tactics of her former employer interrupt her daily life. No matter if it was several days after the fact or several weeks, one thing certainly would never change and that was her anxiety being in public places that were crowded.

People stared. If there was anything she hated more than anything in the world, it was when onlookers couldn’t mind their own business. It was the most uncomfortable feeling in the world. The sensation of someone else’s eyes washing over you, sizing you up, almost like a predator observed its prey. The pharmacy was one of the least expected places she had expected it to happen. She didn’t think the customers would watch as she disputed her frustration to the pharmaceutical rep, who was the only one that could understand her. The manager, standing beside his employee merely gaped at the situation and tried to interrupt as the girl’s hands moved rapidly, signing her words and using DJ to voice for her; between the two only once could speak.

"Your manager, I feel, is incapable of running this store. I’ve been here many times in the past few months, and every time Ms. Tisdale submits a prescription for the hospital there seems to be an issue.” The rep voiced for her, though it was strained because he couldn’t hear his own tone. Small fists clenched the strap to her instrument case that had been fashioned to wrapped around her shoulder so she could have her hands free at all times. The anger in her nonverbal gestures mounted, before DJ finally resolved the issue and made sure to correct what his manager had done wrong. It wasn’t his fault his supervisor was an idiot.

The young man behind the counter, held out a small white bag to her. His expression sympathized with her frustration and he nudged his head in the direction of the older man standing behind him. “I’m so sorry for this, really. This shouldn’t happen to you at all…” His own hands lifted up and he returned the gestures to her so the man behind him couldn’t hear. “I’m putting in a call to corporate next week because I’m convinced he’s discriminating against the customers who a deaf. He seems to think you can’t hear him when he talks to me.”

Reaching for the bag, green eyes settled on DJ adjusting his glasses. Her mouth set into a thin line and the girl exhaled a rasped noise of annoyance before she signed to him again, expressing her thanks and turning to face the small audience standing behind her. Their stares only proving to further agitate her.

“WHAT? What are you staring at?” She pointed to her eyes and then back at them, before gesturing to the counter behind her. It seemed the expression was understood, and all eyes darted away from her.

Rolling her eyes, she moved around the line of people in an effort to get out of there as fast as possible. Her heart began to pound in her chest, and her black ballet flats clicked rapidly against the tile floor. Without hesitating, Mara shoved the front door open and pushed her way out into the open air. She had to get away, had to get out of there. The pressure in her stomach was mounting and her thoughts were going a hundred miles a minute. Her pace quickened and turned into slightly manic five block power walk which finally gave her enough room to breathe once the pharmacy was far out of sight.

She clutched at the skirts of her cute blue sundress in an attempt to calm herself. The bag of temporary prescription balled into her fist, and against her other hand she clutched tightly to the leather strap around her shoulder. The pulse of the instrument case at her back further made effort to settle her nerves and its energy soothed her for the time being.

Dark chocolate curls fell in her face as she leaned up against the wall of Mike’s Corner Store. Her breathing eventually settled and the tightness in her chest disappeared. Inhaling deeply, Mara lifted her head up to gaze across the street and remind herself of her surroundings. A second pulse of the case only reminded her, but briefly, that she wasn’t entirely alone. That was when she heard its call.

Spardaaaa… It whispered and she tensed slightly, turning to look around at the sound of this name.

What? Who? Her fingers reached for the case at her back and she pulled it to her side. Emerald eyes glanced down at the clasps. “…What is it?” She asked it again. “…Who are you talking about?” She hadn’t heard the instrument ever utter anything like that before. Perhaps a brief warning but never a name.

Breathe. She told herself, taking the time to remain in place before finally allowing herself to collect her nerves. That was when she smelled it. The violin urged again that same name when she turned to find the direction of the scent. Spardaaaaa

The smell blood hung in the air, thick, and coppery. It was a stench you couldn’t forget and it was an easy scent to recognize, she hadn’t been paying the slightest attention, completely, to her surroundings but she felt the pull of the instrument. Find Sparda…

This jarred her back to reality especially at the urging of her instrument. Hell, Mara even jumped a little and slowly began to take in her surroundings again on the back street.

With her emotions heightened, she nearly let her anxiety get the better of her again until the trail of blood caught her attention. The furrow in her brow disappeared and concern marred her features.

Her knees shook a bit at first but gradually she began at an even pace and quickened when she heard it again. Find…Sparda… It urged again, this time desperate and

She didn’t know what possessed her to do this in the first place. The instrument her father left for her never steered her wrong before. Eventually her steps brought her to a messy alley where trash and cans littered the back street.

@vergilsparda

#vergilsparda

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jessalynlearns · 6 years

Text

Affairs of the Past - Chapter 2

Category: The Incredibles, Incredibles 2

Rating: T

Genre: Drama, Family, Angst, Romance

Summary: The Superhero Legalization movement comes back to bite Helen when a ghost from her past discovers her whereabouts, bringing with him lasting consequences for Helen’s family and marriage.

Rating for sensitive topics, but nothing explicit.

Pairing: Bob/Helen

Notes: Cross-posted on fanfiction.net and archiveofourown.

Helen couldn't have felt more winded if someone had punched her in the stomach, but she finally found her voice, though she hated how thin it sounded.

"What are you doing here?"

Xerek hadn't moved, but he crossed a leg over his knee and leaned his arms along the back of the sofa. It made him seem taller, more imposing, even as he remained sitting.

"No hello? Helen, I'm hurt."

His flippant words jolted Helen from her shock and sent a shot of anger through her midsection. He always had known how to get under her skin, and instead of just standing there, Helen searched for something to do to avoid looking at him. Which wasn't difficult given that the contents of a dozen grocery bags were leaking onto her parquet floors.

She stalked out of the living room, grabbed the garbage can in the kitchen, and returned, refusing to look at the ghost from her past or break the silence. Not that she had to.

"You never did like to mince words, did you?" Xerek's British accent lilted along, almost as if he were singing rather than talking. "Yes, you were always more ... action-oriented than that? A doer, not a talker. I remember that."

She couldn't stand how intimate he was making it sound. She threw the bananas away, then the egg carton, not even bothering to look inside. She tossed the glass pieces that had been a jar of spaghetti sauce before returning to the kitchen to grab a towel to wipe up the red mess. This time, Xerek waited for her to speak.

"Why are you here?"

He swirled the wine in his glass again before gesturing towards her with it. "You can't know how very glad I was to hear that the Superhero Legislation passed, and even more so when I found out that you were instrumental in its success. Well, it didn't take long to figure out that Elastigirl — or is it just Mrs. Incredible now? — was still active in Metroville. It was almost as if you wanted me to find you."

"I didn't think anything of it," she said, calmly. She threw the red and saturated towel in the kitchen sink and replaced the garbage can underneath. "I haven't thought about you in years."

"Oh, I don't believe that," he said, quirking an eyebrow and grinning into the glass. Helen pursed her lips together, refusing to respond. He swallowed a gulp of what was probably Bob's 1948 Bordeaux, and exhaled loudly.

"I've been doing a bit of research."

"What makes you think I care?"

"This concerns you, Helen."

"My concerns are none of yours," she said, but a knot curled uneasily in her stomach.

"You know that's not true." Xerek stood up from the sofa, habitually rebuttoned his suit jacket, and slid toward the fireplace. Reaching up to the mantle, he trailed his slender finger over the frame housing their family photo. It had been taken on a recent trip to visit Helen's parents in Georgia, and she felt sick as he touched it. "Have you told him about us?"

"There's nothing to tell."

"So, you haven't told him." Xerek's lips quirked in triumph, and she hated him for it. He picked up the frame and studied the photograph. "He's never suspected? She doesn't exactly look like him."

"She looks like my grandmother." That's what her mother had always said.

"Is that what you've told yourself all these years?"

"It's the truth."

"And yet that doesn't preclude there being multiple factors at work."

"You're insane."

He shrugged. "Perhaps so. Life's a lot more fun that way." He returned the frame to the mantle, reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver handkerchief. Wiping his fingers, he said in a more pointed voice, "How old is she?"

"Leave her out of this."

"She's the whole reason for this," he said, thrusting the handkerchief back into his pocket and sitting back on the sofa. "She's fifteen, isn't she. Just celebrated a birthday, didn't she."

"She's not yours, Xerek," Helen said forcefully.

"The timeline fits."

"It's just coincidence."

"That's a pathetic attempt to convince yourself."

"She has powers."

She wasn't expecting the sly smile that spread across his face. "Does she now?" She didn't know how to respond.

"Why are you fighting this?" Xerek continued, his voice smooth and calm, as if he'd won a prize. "As I recall, we spent a very enjoyable evening the last time we saw each other."

Helen felt her heartrate rising. "That's not how I remember it."

"What do you remember?" he asked.

Helen's fingernails dug into her clenched palms, but she had nothing to say.

"You don't remember anything, do you?" Xerek chuckled lowly. "I would be hurt if I took that as a reflection upon me, but you'd had a lot to drink that night."

"I don't remember that either." Helen glared at him, completely dismissing his version of events.

"Really," Xerek said, his brows furrowed as if in confusion. "You must have been further gone than I thought."

"I agreed to one drink," she said. "One."

Xerek shrugged. "You always were a lightweight."

"I don't think so. You drugged me. You must have." It was the only explanation for what had happened.

Xerek stood again at the accusation. "Now, Helen, I'm surprised at you." His voice was soft, placating, as if speaking to a child. He began moving around the coffee table toward her, but Helen refused to move. "I invited you to have a drink so that we could toast your recent nuptials. My intentions were pure; I admit I was surprised to find that your intentions were less so."

He was close enough now that she had to look up to maintain eye contact. "That's a lie. I was always completely committed to my marriage."

"Well, no one's perfect, my dear. We all have our weaknesses."

He reached out and touched her arm, and Helen wrenched herself away. "I'm done, Xerek. I don't know what happened that night, but I will not let you come into my house and insult me or my marriage."

His pale blue eyes bore into her, seemed to pierce through her. The wine glass was still in his hand, and Xerek downed the rest of its contents before placing it gently on the coffee table.

"I'm not here to berate you, Helen." He brushed an invisible piece of lint from his suit jacket and began moving toward the door. "I'll leave. But you cannot hide from the truth. And I don't know why you'd want to."

He reached for the door handle just as it opened, and the knot in Helen's stomach twisted as her husband sang out, "Honey, I'm home!"

"Bob!" That meant the kids ...

"Whoa!" Bob stumbled, nearly colliding with Xerek, and reached over to protect Jack-Jack, whom he carried in one arm. Jack-Jack giggled happily at the unexpected vertigo, but when he caught sight of Xerek he pulled away apprehensively, brows furrowing and his smile transforming into an exaggerated frown.

Her husband recovered quickly. "Oh! Hello. I don't think we've met." He extended a large hand toward the other man, who waved it away with his rail-thin hand, managing to appear somehow polite and disinterested at the same time. "I'm Bob."

"Xerek."

"Xerek," Bob said, pulling back his hand. "That's an interesting name."

"I'm an interesting person."

Helen tried not to show her discomfort as Bob looked her way and then back at the intruder in their house. "And you know Helen, how?"

"He's an old acquaintance," she said quickly, moving forward to stand near Bob. But she knew Xerek wouldn't leave it alone.

"Helen, don't be ridiculous. We're old friends." And he walked over to her and wrapped his arm around her back. "In fact, you could say I'm more like family."

This time Helen did wince, at Xerek's words as much as at Bob's shocked expression at his arm around her. Bob studied her face, and when he noticed her distress, he straightened up to his full height and cast suspicious eyes on the other man. "Funny that Helen's never mentioned you." He moved out of the entryway to ensure that he wasn't blocked in, that he had room to move, but his eyes never left Xerek.

"Indeed," Xerek said, as if he couldn't believe it. "That was silly of her. There's really no reason to be keeping secrets, is there, Helen?"

She didn't have a chance to respond — and wouldn't have known what to say even if she did — because the door opened again, and Helen's eyes widened in fear.

"Mo-om! Dash ate the chocolate bar I was saving for Tony!" Violet's shrill voice drew everyone's attention. "He owes me a quarter any—!" Helen didn't let Dash finish. Sensing something was about to happen, she dove for Violet just as Xerek moved next to her. He leapt at her daughter, but Helen was there instead, and suddenly, she felt herself sucked into a void, falling and spinning at breakneck speed through darkness, faster and faster, until she slammed on her back into a hard, concrete floor.

She couldn't draw in a breath. For the second time that afternoon, she was utterly winded, and she gasped and coughed violently as her body struggled for air. "You bitch!" Even in her oxygen deprived mind, the crude epithet stung. Xerek was next to her, breathing heavily but looking less disoriented. He stood, towering over her, as she struggled to speak. "You have powers?" Helen gasped, unable to move from the floor. Her vision was darkening, pushing in on her.

"Surprise," Xerek intoned darkly. "Does that convince you yet?"

"No," whispered Helen, but it was in more denial than disbelief and she welcomed the blissful darkness that overtook her.

#SometimesJessalynWrites #The Incredibles #Incredibles 2 #Xerek #Bob x Helen #Helen Parr #Bob Parr #Elastigirl #Mr. Incredible #Violet Parr

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