#even if freeform crashed several times | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

supersilversleuth · 3 years

Text

To Kill, To Die, or, To Live by SuperSilverSpy

Fandoms:DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Hurt Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson-centric, Dick Grayson Whump, Whump, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, I have used these tags so much lately, I could probably write them in my sleep, Hurt No Comfort, maybe? - Freeform, I don’t remember writing any comfort…, Hurt, Angst, Jason Todd is a good bro, usually, sometimes?, idk - Freeform, he wants to be a good bro in this fic, Possession, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Whumptober 2021, SuperSilverSpy, SilverGrayson

Summary:

Red Hood showed up in the Batcave after helping out with a quick op one night. Everyone seemed to be looking at him with distrust and suspicion, even though he’d just helped them out. Everyone except Dick, of course, who offered him a tight smile, but whose expression was otherwise unreadable.

Kill kill kill...Dick Grayson shall die...

“What? Why the oh so serious faces?” Jason’s voice drawled.

OR Jason wakes up one morning, and there’s a voice in his head screaming for the death of one Dick Grayson

No. 4 - TRUST FALL “Do you trust me?” | taken hostage | pushed

Published: 2021-10-04 Completed:2021-10-04 Words: 3091 Chapters: 3/3

Chapter One: To Kill

It happened out of the blue one day.

Jason woke in a cold sweat, but he didn’t immediately sit up in bed. In fact, he didn’t move at all. He just stared up at his ceiling, a single thought running through his head, a single emotion coursing through his veins.

Dick Grayson must die.

Distantly, a part of him felt appalled at the notion, but most of him was running with it. Anger clouded his mind but it was unlike any he’d ever felt before. It was different, colder somehow, not like the usual searing heat of pit madness.

He heard a new voice in his head spewing insults about the Golden Boy left and right. Some felt familiar, as if taken from Jason’s own mind. Most of them were new, and he did his best to ignore the most unsavory ones.

He didn’t actually hate Dickface, did he? N—

Jason sat up, and began preparing for the day ahead of him. Put bread in the toaster, remember the meetings he has with several of his informants— Dick Grayson deserves to die— now that didn’t sound right…what was he thinking about again? Put butter on the toast when it’s done, start eating, think about that case that’s been stumping him lately— take Nightwing hostage —what was that? He does have a pretty busy nightlife… Do the morning’s dishes, brush his teeth, get dressed. He had a drug ring to bust tonight, that’s right. Some scumbags needed a little visit from the esteemed crime lord Red Hood— kill them all— what? N—

Jason went through the rest of his day in a haze. He met with some informants, gave food to some people on the streets. He got everything done quickly and efficiently, he even managed to make time to buy groceries. With every interaction, he acted just like he normally would. His movements were comfortable, voice at just the right level to suit each situation. People seemed easily swayed by him, to do as he asked. And yet...he felt detached somehow, as if watching through someone else’s eyes—someone who acted exactly like him.

He couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it though, couldn’t open his mouth and say something out of character, or just talk to himself when no one was in sight. Distantly, a part of him felt alarmed, something was just off.

Still, he made it through the day just fine. Whatever had been bothering him earlier that morning seemed to fade, and he started to feel as if nothing had changed. And nothing had, right? He didn’t remember anything different between today and yesterday…

Night came, and the Red Hood went out to save the day, or at least crash some a**hats’ day, he wasn’t picky. Everything went to plan too, which made him elated. The bats could say all they wanted about him, but no one could deny his clear skill and competency.

Everything was going well, the drug traffickers were all passed out on the ground and Jason was getting ready to call the police, when it happened.

His thumb withdrew from the call button, burner phone slipping back into his pocket. His hands went instead to his guns, and he felt his body turning, moving towards the unconscious bodies of some of the worst that he’d taken down. Kill. Kill. Kill. Chanted that new voice in his head. Kill them all, they deserve it. Just like Dick Grayson.

What? N—No, that didn’t make sense. Why was—Why was his hand still moving? What was his finger doing on the trigger? Jason didn’t understand. I don’t want to kill them, he thought. He pushed against that voice, that—that presence in his head.

It pushed back .

Jason was left scrambling internally, as he watched his own arm lift and aim. A body lay on the ground, motionless where splashes of crimson decorated the floor.

Jason felt as if he’d been booted out of his own body, like his actions weren’t his to control anymore. He felt sick, but no bile would rise in his throat. No feeling would stir in his stomach. He didn’t understand.

Two bodies, on the ground, it was like he was seeing double, than triple, then several many more. He started to lose count. At one point, he noticed there was a knife in his hand, that his face was twisted in an expression of satisfaction. His hands were covered in blood, and so were his pants. He’d have a hard time washing that out, Jason realized distantly. Death here, death there, death death everywhere, said the voice in his head. He knew he was feeling things, actual emotions. But they didn’t really seem to be there . They were foreign, unfamiliar, not his own. Jason could think of all the synonyms he knew to describe just how out of place the anger and the bloodlust and the malicious satisfaction felt. How out of place he himself felt. Kicked out of his own mind, out of control of his own body.

Even with past experiences in mind control and mind-twisting pits of torture, this still was like nothing he had ever felt before.

—

Jason didn’t know what day it was, what was happening, he just couldn’t tell. He couldn’t seem to keep track . It had been like this ever since the massacre, since he’d fought and lost the battle in his own mind.

Kill kill kill...Dick Grayson shall die...

“What? Why the oh so serious faces?” Jason’s voice drawled.

“Those drug traffickers on Monday,” began the big bat himself. Jason’s hand waved as if to wipe it all away. “Lay off it, B. I promise it wasn’t me, alright? I left before whoever murdered them all showed up.” The Replacement was frowning at him, and the Demon brat was scowling his way as well. Bruce thinned his lips, looking at him in that insufferable judgmental way he had. Jason felt himself scoffing, “I don’t owe you fools anything. ”

Please, he thought, this isn’t me. Please, I know it sounds like me but I swear it isn’t. His body went straight for his motorcycle, hopping on and driving away with the squealing of tires.

There are TWO POSSIBLE ENDINGS, the first one is Major Character Death, the second is “everybody lives”

Read the next chapter for tragedy, read the chapter after that for somewhat happy ending

Chapter Two: To Die

“Hey Jay? You alright?”

The prey has fallen into the trap...

Jason felt his head swivel in Dick’s direction, “What are you doing here, Dickface?”

“I don’t know, you just seemed to be acting a little off yesterday. I was just wondering if—”

“I’m fine.” Jason’s voice growled. “And I didn’t kill those people. So there’s nothing for you to report back to ol’ daddy bats up there on his high horse.” Dick scowled briefly, but then his expression smoothed. “I’m not here to spy on you, Jay. And I know it wasn’t you who killed those people.” His brother looked at him steadily, right in the eyes. No! Dick, you have to get away from me, he wants to kill y —

“It wasn’t you,” continued Dick, “It was whatever's controlling you.”

For a moment, Jason panicked. But whoever it was in his head let up quite a bit, and Jason suddenly felt lighter than air. It was like the first taste of water after days in the desert. Like he could finally breathe after an eternity of going without.

“Wha—” Jason stumbled, knees feeling weak. Dick rushed forward, catching him as he fell. “No...N—No, Dick, you can’t be here. ‘m a killer, that thing in my head, it—it wants to—”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here.” His hand carded through Jason’s hair. “We’ll figure this out, okay? We’ll figure this out.”

“It…it seems to have left me.” Jason said, voice trembling in awe as he flexed his fingers. It’d been so long…

—

Dick smiled down at his brother.

“It’s okay, Jay.” He said, “It must’ve fled when it realized I knew it was there.”

“How…how did you know, anyways?” Jason asked.

“I just…I had a feeling. You were acting off, and that look in your eye…”

“Thanks, Dick,” his little brother replied, but then his voice changed, sounding almost…fearful? “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” He asked, straining his ears, “I don’t—”

There was a loud roar and the sound of large, stomping feet. Dick frantically looked around, noticing as shadows creeped in from underneath the door. The air was charged with magic, power flowing throughout the room.

“It’s back,” whispered Jason, clutching Dick’s arm, “we should run.”

“Yeah,” Dick said, as if in a daze, “let’s go.”

It seemed so surreal, the supernatural monsters bursting through the door. Dick wasn’t sure what surprised him so much about it, he dealt with this kind of thing every other day. It’s just…

“Dickie,” said Jason, pulling him towards the window. “Snap out of it, they’re gaining on us.”

He shook his head, looking back—and yeah, the strange magical creatures were right behind them.

Jason jumped through the window, Dick following closely behind. They fired their grappling guns, arriving on the roof opposite in what felt like the blink of an eye.

“Hurry,” said a voice and—oh, it was Jason. It was coming out of Jason’s mouth, right? It must be Jason’s. “We should go that way.”

Dick looked his little brother in the eyes, grounding himself there, before following Jason’s lead as they ran across rooftops.

Dick felt like he was doing everything underwater, but it was…nice. Pretty great actually. He barely even noticed the burn in his legs, or how the monsters chasing them had odd-looking shadows.

Each time he looked back, all he saw was claws and teeth. Masses of fur and strange golden markings.

They paused for breath a few blocks away.

Dick wondered at Jason’s plan. It felt like there was something he should be doing…“Jay? What should we do? Where do we go?”

“That thing in my head seemed afraid of tall places…”

“The—The Wayne Enterprises building.” Dick replied almost immediately.

“Of course,” said Jason, bumping him with his shoulder, “How about a race?”

Dick grinned back at him, “Sure, why not.”

Adrenaline flooded his veins, and for a moment, he almost forgot about the monsters chasing them.

Jason nodded to him, and then they took off, running and jumping, grappling all across the city, heading for the tallest building around. Dick pressed himself to go faster, run harder, jump stronger .

He could see Jason out of the corner of his eye, also going considerably fast.

Jason wasn’t the only one Dick noticed, he also spotted several of them on Jason’s tail. The monsters seemed to move just as fast as they did. He could only hope his little brother could go fast enough to outrun them.

Dick reached the WE building first, skidding to a stop on the roof. Jason arrived soon after.

The monsters gathered a roof away, preparing to jump.

“I—I don’t understand, I thought you said they wouldn't follow us up here.” Dick looked at Jason, searching for answers in his expression.

His little brother’s features were soft, his eyes glittered with something strange and otherworldly. His voice was smooth and heavy with something familiar… “It’s okay, I have a plan, but there’s no time. Dick, do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you, Little Wing.”

Darkness creeped up along the edges of the building, sliding onto the roof. Claws scraped against the ground, glowing gold eyes began to surround them. There was a single opening, a small bit of edge that had nothing on it.

Jason smiled, grabbing Dick’s grapple gun. And then pushed him off the roof.

Dick Grayson fell over 1,000 feet to the ground, all the while believing his brother would catch him.

Above, on the roof of Wayne Tower, Jason Todd’s eyes flashed gold.

Chapter Three: To Live

“Hey Jay? You alright?”

The prey has fallen into the trap...

Jason felt his head swivel in Dick’s direction, “What are you doing here, Dickface?”

“I don’t know, you just seemed to be acting a little off yesterday. I was just wondering if—”

“It wasn’t you,” continued Dick, “It was whatever's controlling you.”

“Wha—” Jason stumbled, knees feeling weak. Dick rushed forward, catching him as he fell. “No...N—No, Dick, you can’t be here. ‘m a killer, that thing in my head, it—it wants to—”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here.” His hand carded through Jason’s hair. “This thing is here to test me Jay, I didn’t have a choice. I know you didn’t either, and I am so, so sorry for that Little Wing. We’ll figure this out, okay? We’ll figure this out.”

Jason opened his mouth to reply, when suddenly the presence was back, the voice along with it. Jason could feel his consciousness collapsing back, dissociating once again. He vaguely registered as one of his hidden daggers was swiftly drawn, and pressed harshly against Dick’s neck.

“Do you trust me?” asked Jason’s voice, a smirk spread across his face.

The question was meant to be mocking, but Dick answered seriously, “Of course, I know you’re still in there, Jay. I trust you.”

—

They stood on the roof of the WE building. Whoever was controlling Jason had used his strength to give Dick a good beating, and sent a picture of the aftermath to the bats. It was only a matter of time before they showed.

“One as special as Dick Grayson, must be able to trust at least one member of his family. Jason Todd is least likely to accept this trust, which makes my job so much easier. I look forward to his death,” said Jason’s voice while they waited.

Dick, all tied up, sporting a black eye and what were likely bruised ribs—grinned like a maniac. “I recognized your presence, didn’t I? I could tell there was something off with him, you nasty little f***er. You may think you chose your victim well, but you’re making a big mistake—Jay will pull through for me, and you will be torn away as if it were nothing.”

Wow, Dick just sounded so—so confident in Jason’s ability to do whatever it was he was supposed to do. Jason wasn’t sure he’d be able to overpower this thing, let alone destroy it.

“The rest of your so-called family will arrive any minute now, will you weep at their demise?”

Dick scowled, “The rules that you are bound to state that you can’t kill any of my loved ones before me.”

“I may not be able to kill them, but I’ve been doing this awhile, and I know all the loopholes to this little game.”

Behind them, the bats touched down on the roof. Jason felt himself turn to face them. It seemed that Bruce, Tim, Damian, and Steph all showed up for the party.

“Here to save your favorite Golden child?”

“What do you want?” Demanded Bruce, stoic as ever.

They never cared about you , none of them do. Hissed the voice in his head. Nobody trusts you

Nobody trusts you , Jason thought back at it, you murderous lying b****** .

It chuckled, ah, but it is not my face I’m wearing. It’s your's.

Outloud, Jason’s voice addressed the bats, “This is the price you pay for not trusting me, for letting Dick down. You didn’t even notice there was something different about him, did you? You didn’t even notice when Jason Todd was no longer Jason Todd.”

Bruce and Dick were the only ones who didn’t look confused at the words. Dick, because he seemed to know what was going on, and Bruce, because he was, well, Bruce. Batman’s face was as stoic as ever.

Jason felt his face twist into something surely ugly and murderous-looking.

Power surged through him, coming from seemingly nowhere. But Jason could feel it at his fingertips, being pushed into him and pulled out, he had no control over its course. The air around him became charged with magic, and then the bats were engulfed in a bright, golden light.

A moment later, Jason's eyes opened to find that all four of them were frozen in various positions and turned into a shiny golden color, standing still like statues.

The look of horror on Dick’s face hurt to look at, when Jason felt himself turn back to the man.

Quickly, Dick’s expression turned to that of anger, “What did you do to them?” he seethed. “Turn them back!”

“It’s too late, Dick Grayson. Once you are dead, your family will remain this way forever.”

Jason’s arms reached out, grabbing Dick and picking him up.

His feet took him to the edge of the roof, holding Dick out over the ground far, far below.

“J—Jay, listen to me, you can fight this. I know you can. You’re still in there, I believe in you.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Jason watched as he dropped his brother over the edge.

Time seemed to stop.

No! He thought, pushing back as hard as he could against that malicious presence in his mind. Jason pictured Dick’s face, looking at him sincerely, a bead of blood forming where Jason’s own knife grazed his throat. “I trust you ,” he’d said.

Jason followed him over the edge before he even knew what he was doing. Shooting out his grapple instinctively, cutting through the air rapidly as he fell.

This is going to hurt , he thought, as he set himself on a collision course with Dick, but I think we’ll live.

7 notes · View notes

starrysupercell · 3 years

Text

I don't know whether to post one shots/drabbles here now or just post the link to the next chapter but here's Darker Interests 2. I had a sudden interest in revisiting the AU. I'll do both in a reblog I guess.

____

❣Darker Interests 2 🧣

"Helllllo? Bo! I'm here!!" Colette announced as she entered the cavern. Her Book leapt from her arms, wanting to flutter around the place. Being carried was nice, but it had to be in sit still practically the whole time they were there— nearly a month! Stretching its wings felt great. It made it's way to the depths of the cave.

Colette looked around the dark space, wondering if she should call out again. She didn't sense him. Maybe he had gone up to the surface, or someplace out of reach.

Her questioning was quickly put to rest as a portal cut itself open into view. A cloven hoof stepped out, and the large demon it belonged to followed a second after. Colette looked up at him with a small smile. He was a very intimidating demon- towering over her easily, and this was his more casual form. She knew she was still a young demon under his jurisdiction, but she sometimes wondered if she would ever catch up to the amount of Souls he's claimed.

"Welcome back." Bo's deep voice rumbled out to greet her, his arms were crossed as usual. "How did you fare?"

Colette pushed away her doubts and grinned at the mere recollections of the Surface. "It was so exciting! I saw a lot of things. Ooh! And, my prescence has been getting stronger! There were a lot of car crashes wherever I went." She recounted. Bo listened carefully, nodding along to her story. "Their food was delicious too! Nobody ever told me about that!"

"It sounds like you enjoyed yourself." He remarked casually.

"Oh! It was very educational too, hm-hmm!" Colette assured him. "I learned about how... um, different ways humans react to car crashes. Sometimes they're all frantic, or just angry..." she tapped her chin on thought as she looked to the stalactites. "Um, what else...?"

Bo waited for the young demon to continue.

"OH!" Colette exclaimed, her eyes bright. She was so estactic, she took flight and spun around him in the air. "Bo, Guess what!!"

He was slightly surprised, but Colette's ambiance was one he was accustomed to. "What is it?" He asked.

"I made a deal with someone...!" She exclaimed.

"A deal?" Bo echoed, looking impressed. "I'm surprised that you found such an opportunity to strike one on your first visit. What was it in exchange for?"

Her confidence plummeted significantly, but her smile didn't falter. "It wasn't for anything that big." She admitted, "Because... I had forgotten my currency case. I couldn't pay. A-and yeah I could have just taken it, but I was trying to not get noticed, like you said. Everything's clearer in hindsight, right? Ahaha...." she felt so embarrassed when she got to the end of her stumbled explanation. She was on the ground again at the end of her clumsy speech.

Bo's passive expression remained. "What was it in exchange for?" He repeated.

Colette slid her foot on the rocky ground, feeling sheepish. ".....Two favors... for some of the Earth food I told you about." She said quietly, hands behind her back.

Bo considered that. It certainly wasn't ideal, but it was still a good sign that Colette was inclined to initiate a contract. It was good instinct, and for a young Trickster Demon like herself, it was very promising. "It's okay," he said. "How long ago was this?"

"It was about... a month ago? I think it was the second or third day of my trip up there." Colette said.

"Hmm..." Bo mused. "And you haven't been called yet? Usually, one who agrees to a deal has something in mind."

"Well, actually..." Colette considered her words. There was that little misunderstanding. Edgar had agreed to the deal without believing in it. She proved it to him, but what if he didn't even plan on following up? What happened to demons who were never called? Either way, she couldn't tell Bo that her first deal was a fluke. "...he said that he was going to wait until I returned back to Hell. I told him about how I was gonna be busy until I left Earth and he said he respected that! We had a really thorough talk." She nodded.

"I see..." Bo considered. He tilted his head at her. "You did seal the contract with the human, right?"

Ah, fuck. Oh Hell. Damn everything forever until the End of Times-- "Yes, of course I did!" Colette blurted out. First her name, now the actual Connection between them wasn't made! She took a deep breath to calm herself down and focus on making this lie believable. "I know that the trade off was pathetic, but I wouldn't forget to make an actual contract. You just think I'm incapable." She pouted, wishing her words were true.

Bo shook his head. "I don't doubt you at all. The deal is... well, it's a start." He said. "It's your start. Don't forget that every Demon had to obtain their first Soul at one point." He advised. "From there, one grows, and it's up to every individual to gain strength for themselves."

Colette nodded, feeling slightly better. "Yeah... I'll be as tall as your real form one day."

Bo gave a smile, a rare occasion for the wise demon. "And I hope even taller."

"Raaahhhr!!" Came a shout echoing through the cavern. Several winged creatures came flapping out, Colette's Creature being one of them. "Jøurn!" She called out. The Book flew straight into her arms. "What did you do?" She asked it.

A wild little demon, one who was far younger than even Colette, came chasing down the mischievous winged thing. Bo always took on young demons, guiding them until they were . . This one was Nita. She was still very small, and her fangs were the most precious little things, too! Despite her size, she was so ferocious. She had her eyes set on Jøurn, and she clawed at Colette's legs as she tried to climb her to get to it, all while roaring.

Colette held Jøurn above her head to keep it safe. "Nita," Bo called to her. The demon kid gradually registered her name getting called and stopped, turning to him with wide eyes and a confused frown. "You're going to have to practice hunting on a different creature. Colette needs that one."

The Trixie demon went back to hugging her book. Oh, yeah. This basic lesson: the bond of a Creature and Demon. The more you strengthen and take care of one, the more of an aid it becomes for you. Bo has long had his. His was a Strategist. It kept watch over the battlefield and helped Bo in battles. Another powerful demon, Tara, had her Creature on her forehead. Its specialty was being an Attacker. Its form was ornamental, but their combined strength was deadly.

You did have to be careful, however. The more power gained as a duo, the more prideful it would be. Depending on the Creature, it could even turn on you if it was upset. Another Demon may have had this happen. It was said that Gene was a non-demon who had a Creature bond with him, couldn't handle it, and had succumb to the influence. Colette wasn't sure about the validity this, though, Humans didn't have the access, and Angels wouldn't dare try and come here. It was simply impossible. Plus, even Bo was cautious around him-- Gene had to be a demon.

Colette was pulled away from her freeform thoughts when Nita began to pull on her arm. "Huh? What?" Colette said.

"I have to go, Colette." Bo told her (again), already entering a portal he conjured up. "Someone is summoning me. Watch over Nita until I return."

"Oh, okay! Bye!" Colette waved, and Bo was gone. Nita pulled Colette eagerly to the entrance of the cave. She wanted to play (wreak havoc) outside, no doubt. "Hmm..." Colette pursed her lips in thought as she let herself be led to the entrance. It usually took a couple of days for Bo to return. Could she have enough time to make the trip, find the human, create the contract, and then come back? It'd be worth a try, Colette decided. She knew where he worked, so it wouldn't be hard getting there. Colette watched the wild little demon laugh as she stomped around the area, scaring critters from their hiding spots and pouncing about, claws ready. What time was it up there on the surface? ...There was only one way to find out. She'd have to check it out herself.

"Hey, Nita!" She called. "Come here!" Nita stopped and turned to look at her. However, she grinned mischievously and took off running

Colette was shocked for about four seconds, and that was enough time for Nita to get a significant headstart. "Hey! Come back here!" She laughed, chasing after her by wing.

Nita cackled, jumping over rocks and bounding across the land. She was fast, for a young one. She clambered over a larger boulder, and leaped off splendidly, grinning at the rocky ground below her... until she realized it wasn't coming any closer.

"Got you, little scamp." Colette taunted with triumph. She was continuing to fly across Hell, holding Nita by her waist.

"Hmph!" Nita growled unhappily, crossing her arms. But, soon enough, the rush of the flight had her gleefully spreading her own arms as Colette flitted to and fro. Her wings and even her tail hasn't grown in yet, so this was all new and fun to her.

"Sooo," Colette began, "Look, we're gonna go up to Earth, but here's the thing. You're not supposed to be up there yet. You get it? This is going to be between us. Don't tell Bo! Okay, Nita?"

The little demon looked up at her, puzzled. This was really out of the norm for Colette, but maybe it didn't matter so much? She's heard mention of the Surface, but really didn't give it much thought. She didn't know she wasn't allowed to go. That sounded exciting! Nita nodded in agreement.

"Great!" Colette looked over at Jøurn. "Can you open up a portal for me? My hands are full. Make sure it's near where we found the guy. Do you remember?"

"..." Jøurn's wings beat rapidly, struggling a bit to keep up, but it closed its mouth as a light started shining within its jaws. Then it opened wide, expelling it from itself and shooting a portal ahead of Colette. She flew right towards it to enter it.

"Oooh...!" Nita marveled. She's always seen portals but has never been through one! She braced herself, then felt the sudden change of environment. There was blinding lights, and endless noises and it was much windier then she's ever felt before. All the buildings and passing cars were so much to take in. She looked around in excitement.

Colette took the sights more seriously. This looked like the right city, and it was nighttime, so that was great. But were they in the right vicinity? It was a small store... agh, where had that car crash been? "Hang tight, Nita." She told the younger demon. "We're gonna be store hopping for a little bit..." The girl hardly took notice of what Colette said- her pure silver eyes continued to drink in the sights of the bustling city.

....Somewhere around the forth or fifth shop, Nita grew bored of it. She had been slipping further down in Colette's grip until the older demon had her wrists gripped tightly. She was not impressed at all. "Hmmaaghh!!" She griped suddenly, flailing her body around furiously. She wanted down! To explore!

Colette looked down at her display, "Quiet down. This place looks familiar, I think we're almost there." she said, but Nita continued her temper tantrum. "Okay, we can walk from here, but you can't just run off, okay?" Nita growled. "Nita! This is serious. Understand?" Colette frowned down at her.

"Okay!!!" She finally agreed, kicking her feet in the air one last time. Colette sighed and looked for a place to land. She contemplated a roof, but took an alleyway instead. Hopping down from a rooftop with no injuries wasn't considered normal either. (She had learned this during her second week.)

As soon as they set foot on the pavement, Nita didn't hesitate on making a beeline toward the end of the alley, laughing derisively. Colette didn't bother chasing after her, and waited patiently. Nita felt a pull that jerked her back before she was too far away. "Huh?" She strained against the pull for several seconds before glaring back at Colette. The older demon held up a glowing attachment to Nita. "As if I'd trust you. Now come here! You can't go out looking like that."

Nita trudged back grumpily, and dropped to a seat on the ground with a "HUMPH!"

"Okay," Colette sighed, holding her hands out to her. She was super at her own disguise, but she hasn't provided one for anyone else. There was a first for everything though, right? She focused on creating an image for Nita. Her blank white eyes had to have pupils. Her red skin would have to be quelled. The last of the basics involved adding natural (for humans) color to her gray hair. With all of this in mind, Colette let the disguise form, then opened her eyes. Nita was looking down at herself, looking surprised yet again. Brown skin, dark auburn hair. It was so weird! So cool! Would she have these powers one day? She could hardly wait!!

The winged demon ended up a bit tired. Apparently it took more strength to disguise someone else. She couldn't wait until she was stronger... She wiped her brow with her forearm. Okay, now for herself. Her fangs went away, as did her tail and wings, and odd skin and eyes. (Again, odd for humans.)

Jøurn flew over, and seemed annoyed. "Yeah, you have to stay put again," Colette laughed lightly holding out her arms to hug her Creature. It dropped right into them, compliant. Colette turned to Nita. "Okay, let's go. Stay by my side." Nita nodded, but Colette gave her a look. She held out her hand after shifting Jøurn to one arm. "Come on."

Nita rolled her new eyes but grabbed Collete's hand to stand, and they walked out of the alley together. Out on the sidewalk, Colette looked around. "This way," she said, heading toward a four way intersection. She was pretty sure the store in question was only a few blocks away. The view from a flight was better, but someone was getting cranky. Either way, it wouldn't be long now, she hoped. A car crash occurred when they rounded a corner. Nita gawked at it, but Colette was used to it already.

Oh, but what if he didn't work tonight, or had quit? It'd be more difficult to find him in that case. She'd have to go on her own, somehow avoiding detection from Bo... Bringing Nita again on a longer trip would be out of the question, given how she acted.

...Luckily, she didn't have to worry about that. Jøurn squirmed in her grasp, bringing her attention to the convenience store a little ways down the street. Colette squinted, the superior vision of her kind allowing her to try and spot him if she focused hard enough. There!

"It's Edgar!" She exclaimed, "C'mon, Nita!" She quickened her pace, urging the girl along. They crossed the street in a hurry, diagonally across. Cars screeching to a halt and horns slammed angrily made Nita laugh as she bounded along to keep up. Colette made it to the sidewalk and entered the store. The ring of the bell signified their entrance, but there was a short line of people this time, so he didn't greet her this time.

Even so, Colette held back a giggle as she slipped behind the aisle she did last time. "We have to wait until the place clears out." She told Nita. "Ooh, maybe I'll pick up something while I'm at this--" Colette slapped her head. "I didn't bring the Case again!!" She was red. She was just going to suck it up. Jøurn's pages ruffled together in laughter. "Shut up." She told it. "Last time was your fault!"

Colette peeked around the far end of the aisle. At that moment, a girl came from the back room and noted Colette's crazy grin directed at the front. Colette noticed her stare and ducked back to her hiding spot.

The black-haired girl cocked a brow, and walked over to Edgar as she blew a bubble. "Hey," she said, as it popped. "There's someone shifty around the snacks. Go check it out."

"Take over here then, Bibi." Edgar replied.

"Duh," she smirked, stepping in continue scanning as he walked off. "You can barely do one thing at a time anyway."

"Whatever," He shrugged lightly, walking through the employee's door to walk around the counter. He passed the queue of folks, and then walked down the aisle before the snacks. Someone shifty meant to be cautious, so he leaned only his head to the aisle closest to the exit. Nobody. Did they leave already? Edgar stepped to the window of the store to see if he could catch any silhouette running off.

Outside, sirens sounded not that far away. He could even see the flickering lights on the street. Edgar started to turn, his eyes glued to the window until he finally looked in front of him, where Colette now stood.

"Hi!" She greeted. Edgar recoiled with wide eyes. Colette grinned, expecting the look of realization to melt in and a warm greeting returned to her. Instead, his look soured. "Get out." He said.

She frowned. "Huh? Why?" He glared at her, but she was just puzzled.

Now, having an opportune close look at him, Colette noticed a cut on Edgar's lips, a barely present scrape on his visible cheek, and...

Colette rose her right hand tentatively. It was out of his view. She was hesitant, and her fingers hovered over his hair, but she couldn't bring herself to ignore what she saw. She pushed aside his bangs to confirm her suspicions.

A black eye.

She managed to see it for a split second before he felt the exposure and reacted. He jerked his head away from her and shoved her away. His hair fell back into place. His eye flared with animosity.

Nita, who was watching the exchange as she dug into a bag of gummy bears, widened her eyes in shock at that action. She growled and stepped forward but Colette grabbed the back of her shirt. The white-haired demon didn't keep her eyes off of Edgar, and her head flooded with millions of things to say, to ask, to do.

"Get out of here," Edgar said through gritted teeth.

"You called me, right?" Colette asked blankly. "And I didn't show up."

"Is that written all over me too?" He flung at her. "Get lost. I'm not gonna say it again."

"I'm sorry," she said.

Edgar gave a mixed look. Not showing up, then apologizing? "What kind of a demon are you, anyway?" Colette took Nita by the wrist, and made to exit the store without giving him an answer.

Bibi heard the bell and looked over from where she stood, ringing up the last customer. Edgar remained out of sight as he stared out the window, smoothing his hair. Then, he started to return.

The customer left, and Edgar pulled himself up over the counter. He didn't feel like walking around.

"What happened? Did you know her?" Bibi asked. With that sneak-and-peek grin the gal had, it looked like it.

"No, it was just some nutjob." Edgar said, sliding down, hands in his pockets. "She was trying to steal but got embarrassed when I caught her."

"Huh," Bibi said, looking to the glass door. "If you say so."

___

Outside, Colette miserably led Nita to the nearest alley again. She patted the younger demon on the head and Nita returned to her original form. She let her own disguise fall too. "Let's go," she said with no enthusiasm as she opened a portal. Nita looked up at her with concern, frowning, but walked through when nudged to go.

Colette herself paused before entering. Edgar's question was cycling through her mind. What kind of demon indeed? One who nearly gets caught, forgets to share her name, and her currency case, and to seal a contract. One who grants favors for frivolous treats, and tries to cover up just one of her countless mistakes. What kind of demon was she? Honestly, a sad excuse for one. She entered the gateway, and it closed behind her.

#Edgar #Colette #Demon Au #Brawl Stars #Darker Interests #Free For All

4 notes · View notes

happybeeps-nat · 4 years

Text

Finnpoe week day 6: hurt/comfort and/or historical AU

an event by the wonderful @finnpoeevents

Waiting for the End

words: 1706

characters: Leia Organa, Poe Dameron, Finn (Star Wars)

(trigger) warnings: lots of hurt, suicidal ideation, intrusive thoughts, Poe Dameron is not okay, hurt/comfort, depression - freeform

a/n: I write too many sad stories, sorry, i’m doing this all wrong

Read Here (probably won’t post this to ao3)

---please heed the warnings, this is not a fluffy h/c story

After their debrief, the General did not look too happy, but these days she rarely did, so Poe tried to not read too much into it. He got up as soon as she dismissed them, still feeling icky, energised and tired, vibrating out of his own skin, breathing too fast and feeling he was drowning. He was tired and his hands were shaking where he was clamping them between his thighs, and he just really wanted Finn to tell him he was okay.

Poe could still feel his X-Wing hurtling toward the ground, the gravitational pull just as strong as his mental pull to let it happen. The cries of his squad members, asking what was wrong, if he could hear them, if he needed help, if he saw something, if he was-

He needed to get out of here, away from everyone else. But he couldn't, because as soon as he got up, the General raised her voice again.

"Commander Dameron. A word."

He sighed and tried not to react, just straighten his back, stand at attention. His squad was filing out of the room until it was only him and the General left. He hid his shaking hands behind his back.

She looked at him in that way that always made him feel she could see right through him. There was a sad look in her eyes that Poe did not want to think about, because if he did, he would know exactly why she wanted to talk with him.

"You can sit down." Poe didn't react, his limbs were still kind of numb and he really preferred to- "Please sit, Commander."

He sat, wringing his hands in his lap again, hoping she wouldn't notice.

She did. Looked at his hands, then back at his face and shook her head with that sad expression again.

"I am telling you for the last time, Commander, to not scare us like that. Do not make your squad think your starfighter has a severe malfunction and you're dropping to the ground!"

Poe winced. "I'm sorry, General, I don't-"

"Banthashit," she exclaimed, interrupting him in a way that surprised Poe, made him flinch just slightly. Or maybe that was still his whole body shaking.

Neither of them said a word for a while, because what would he say? He couldn't say the truth, it was stupid, and she obviously wouldn't listen to his lies and apologies. What would he say? Sorry, General, I just kinda wanna die sometimes, it's nothing serious.

She saw right through him anyway, he knew that. So he sat in silence, waiting for her to be over with this talk so he could go back to Finn and cry and then pretend like he was okay. Like everything was okay. Like they weren't fighting a war.

With a sigh, she sat down right in front of him and seemed like she was lightyears away. "You know," she started. "Han would never let me fly the damn ship. He wouldn't leave me alone, ever, always sending Chewie or Lando with me when he couldn't be there. I never asked him about it until years later. And he looked me in the eye and said that he knew, deep down, that there was a chance I wouldn't… that I would wanna die. That I would take down the Falcon and myself along with it if I had been given the chance."

Poe tried to take a breath but he couldn't, not really, not through the tears that were forming and not through his thoat that was rapidly closing up. He was looking at his hands because he couldn't stand looking at her.

Across from him, Leia laughed a completely joyless laughter. "I was a kid. My planet had been destroyed, my family eradicated, wiped out just like that, everyone I ever knew. My lover was a criminal, my brother fighting his own war, my father another criminal, the worst of them all, and I… I was a kid. I used to be a Princess. And when he told me, I knew he was right. There was a fair chance back then. And I still can't get into a starfighter and be up in the cockpit. I can't. Because things are largely the same, and I-" she sighed. "Commander. Poe. I get it. That's all I'm saying."

Poe shook his head, because she didn't get it. She had lost way more than he ever could to begin with, she was far braver and more heroic than he could ever be, and she was old. Older than he would ever be. And she was still here, leading the Resistance like she didn't want to die some days, and… she didn't get it. Poe was just being stupid.

"Yes, I do," she said softly, reaching out to take his hand but he flinched away.

Always with the flinching, like he had to move, could not be still, had to be in action, had to take his X-Wing and crash it into the next surface because it was the only thought that was there, the loudest thought, the most intrusive one.

"Breathe," she told him. Begged him. Because he wasn't breathing. Maybe he could just stop breathing, maybe he could try, then his X-Wing would be fine.

"Have you been talking to Dr. Kalonia," she asked him.

He nodded, and technically it wasn't a lie. He had talked to her about it, she had given it a name and prescribed some meds and before he could take them he'd had to leave for Jakku. His hands haven't stopped shaking since then.

"I want you to do that again," she told him. "And take the meds. And talk, Poe. Please, talk. I don't want to be right about this."

He shrugged, frowning at his hands. He wanted to take off his own skin, be gone, be someone else, be someone who could fight a war without wanting to die sometimes. He wanted to be okay. He wanted Finn.

"It's good you're alive, Poe," she said after a while, sounding defeated and he felt like shit for that, but he couldn't talk. He couldn't say the words, not to her, not like that. Not knowing she felt the same sometimes. That made everything too real, too pressing, too dangerous.

“If I could,” she continued, “I would send you home. Give you a little peace, just for a day. But I can’t and I’m sorry, I’m sorry I have to send you up there all time and I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

Poe shook his head again, because no, he loved flying, he loved doing this for her and for the whole Galaxy, it’s what he was meant to do. She should not be sorry for that, that’s not right.

Before he could even think about saying something, there was a knock on the metal door and Leia activated the mechanism for it to open. Poe's back was to the wall but he had a feeling he knew who was going to be there.And he was right, because Finn's voice came from the doorway just a second later.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, General. I was just looking… but I can leave, sorry, I was just-”

“No, Finn, please, you can stay. In fact, I think we are done here.” She got up and walked to Finn where Poe could hear her murmur a “take care of him” kind of sentence, followed by the sound of her leaving the room.

Poe had yet to turn around, and his hands had yet to stop shaking. He had yet to get a fucking grip.

“Hey,” Finn whispered, coming toward him and crouching down so they were almost eye-level.

Poe was still looking at his hands, didn’t want to see the worry in Finn’s eyes, just wanted to… he wanted for Finn to know without having to tell him first.

“Come on, let’s go, you must be tired,” Finn said, reaching out to pull Poe up with him. Tired. Yeah, he was tired all right.

They left, and Poe still hasn’t said a word, didn’t speak until they were lying on their uncomfortable bunks, him on top of Finn, Finn’s arms around him but not in a way that felt trapping.

“Have you been having those thoughts again? You’re still shaking.”

Poe nodded but in the same moment hid his face in Finn’s chest. He wanted to get away, go be on the other side of the room, away from human contact, away from Finn’s warmth and only be left with the coldness of the floor and his thoughts, but he also knew that wasn’t what he really wanted. Just like he knew crashing his X-Wing wasn’t what he really wanted. It was like something, someone, was inside his mind again, and he couldn’t-

“You’re alive. You’re good and you’re wonderful and you’re amazing and you’re all those words I was never taught by the First Order, and I keep forgetting about the words, but I never forget about you. You’re always with me in my mind and heart, and I know that I’m always with you. But I also know that sometimes that’s not enough for either of us. I know you have these thoughts, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. But it’s a good thing you’re alive. On, like, the whole scale from personal to universal. And I love you.”

Finn always did that. Always said all those words but Poe couldn’t do words today, he didn’t want words, he didn’t want to be told that he was alive, because he knew that. You can’t wanna die if you’re dead already, so yes, he was alive and aware of that. He just didn’t know what to do with that information.

“Can we,” he started around the lump in his throat. “Can we not do this? I can’t do words, not the same words all the time, I just. I’m sorry. Can we not do this?”

Finn nodded, because of course he did. He tightened his arms around Poe and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Want me to tell you a story?”

Poe smiled despite himself and nodded, pressing a kiss to the other man’s chest. Finn loved telling stories, and that was just such an universally weird thing, completely out of place to how things should work, and Poe enjoyed that. Enjoyed how this shouldn’t be possible, and still it happened. Because if Finn, a kidnapped child, a brainwashed stormtrooper, a Force-sensitive soldier of the Resistance could lie in bed with Poe and tell the wildest, most fantastically beautiful stories and it could be okay to the universe, then maybe Poe being alive could be okay, too.

#i feel like absolute shit for this but here you go with more sadness #finnpoe #stormpilot #finnpoeweek20 #nobody is okay and neither am i #nat writes #i'm having a panic attack over here posting this and also anon can go fuck themself #tw: sucidal ideation #tw: intrusive thoughts #tw: depression #if you want me to tag more pls tell me

21 notes · View notes

schantzscribbles · 4 years

Text

Dear Evan Hansen Mermaid AU Part 3

I'm still deciding on how I want to portray Miguel, but right now I'm thinking Red Lionfish or Pacific Seahorse.

That boy is something very colorful and proud!

So previously I mentioned there being an education system for merpeople as they do form societies.

So all the teens (minus Miguel) go to school together.

Their school, as well as most of the buildings in their particular society, is made up of scrapped parts from shipwrecks and other human debris. There are also some buildings and landmarks carved out of the landscape, but they gotta keep it fresh, keep it interesting. They're still discovering and learning technology, but in their own unique ways.

(Okay, you probably didn't even care about that fact but as an enthusiast for a "rebuild from the remains" aesthetic, I have to sprinkle in my little funky twists.)

The particular "town" of merpeople they live in isn't very large and is constantly changing size and population due to some mers moving in and out.

Evan broke his arm over summer break in a coastal accident.

Seeing that merpeople don't fully abide by the living standards of their aquatic ancestors, they tend to mix, mingle, and migrate without too much structure. Obviously certain families with stay together and there are some pockets of merpeople who live by more strict cultural rules. But for the sake of au, Evan and the gang live in a more relaxed mer civilization.

So, over the summer Evan was working with a group of mers that focus on coastal wildlife. Evan in particular focused on coral health and how it was being affected by human activity.

But our boy is depressed and lonely, so one day he strays from his usual group of coworkers and ventured toward a cluster of fishing boats. The general rule is don't go near humans, especially when on the job.

He noticed that some of the boats were anchored, so he grabbed one of them from the seabed, hoisted it up the surface, and launched it above water for his to come crashing down with force behind it.

His arm got pinned under the anchor, thus breaking it.

Now, the rest of the AU at the moment is more freeform and doesn't follow the plot of the musical, but I did want to included how Evan broke his arm.

Connor is not dead in this particular version of the AU, but feel free to craft multiple storylines and arcs with different outcomes!

Connor does paint his nails!

As previously mentioned, he is very fascinated by human society and like to get a little too close.

So, one day he came across some spring breakers and watched as they went about their activities sunbathing and painting their nails. As soon as they looked away, he stole several bottles.

It's rare for him to find nail polish, especially since he ruined his first bottle by opening up under water and losing the contents. But whenever a party boat or a boat of spring breakers rolls by, especially with a bunch of girls, he always has to check.

He quickly learned that whenever he wants to do his nails he has to make a whole thing about hauling himself up to surface and propping on a rock or a beach for some time.

He's collected his signature black as well as a metallic purple, glittery pink, and bright turquoise. He wears the black and purple the most. He loves the other two colors, but poor baby is insecure and wearing nail polish as a mer is already enough to cause stares.

Jared also thinks that human legs are hot.

When Jared is puffed up, other mers will bop him around like a volleyball. It's an unfortunate thing for any and all puffers.

Evan's dad is a Barracuda mer, which for a Barracuda and an Octopus to mate is incredibly rare. It's a wonder that Evan didn't come out a totally wack and new sea monster.

But like I said, science doesn't really exist here! Anything goes! Be whatever mer you wanna be! Love whatever mer you wanna love!

I'm still deciding if I'll make this a fic, but I have considered doing an ask blog for the DEH Mer AU.

#deh #dear evan hansen #mer au #mermaid au #evan hansen #jared kleinman #connor murphy #fjdjjsjxkdkd this au is on CRACK #IM LIVING FOR IT

31 notes · View notes

ask-sincerely-sea · 4 years

Text

A rundown of the Mermaid AU

Here’s a bullet list of my Mermaid AU and most of the content I have imagined for it! These are taken from three different posts on my main blog, but for simplicity, I compiled them all here! It is long, but feel free to read and get a feel for this universe!

All the Murphys are sharks, but they’re all different types of sharks.

Science doesn’t exist in my world so don’t expect genetics and aquatic ancestry to be something that is strict. Most families tend to stay within the same family and/or genus.

Connor is a Shortfin Mako Shark.

Zoe is a Blue Shark (Fun fact: Blue Sharks are a species of Requiem Sharks).

Cynthia is a Whale Shark.

Larry is an Oceanic Whitetip Shark.

Evan and Heidi are both octopus.

Evan is a Coconut Octopus.

Heidi is a Mimic Octopus.

Alana is a Pacific White Sided Dolphin.

Jared is a White Spotted Pufferfish.

Although intelligent like humans, mermaids will exhibit behaviors akin to their aquatic ancestry.

Evan being a Coconut Octopus will hide within ocean debris as a form of camouflage. This is often triggered by spikes in anxiety, but he also uses it to avoid interaction.

Jared absolutely puffs up. It’s usually caused by elevated emotion. Sometimes he’ll puff up because he’s upset, other times he’ll accidentally cause himself to puff up just from laughing too hard.

The Murphy family is a family a predators. They all have an acute and accurate sense of smell. Larry, Connor, and Zoe are active hunters, and when they are in hunting mode it’s hard to break them out of it until they are satiated.

Merpeople do form societies and interact with each other. They don’t hunt each other and unlike their aquatic ancestors, they don’t all follow migration paths. Some merfamilies will migrate.

Now I’ll give you all the cute and fun and interesting stuff…

Connor loves to explore any wreckage he can find. He’s super fascinated by human life and loves finding shipwrecks, plane wrecks, and even leftover skeletons.

He frequents the wrecks of military vessels most often and collects dog tags from fallen soldiers. He refurbishes them as much as he can because he likes to see the names of the men and women lost.

He often spies on humans who are boating as well. Be it a wedding boat, fishermen, or just vacationers, he just loves watching them from afar. However, the moment they spot him (usually only his dorsal fin on his tail), he dives away

.Hes accidentally becomes and ocean cryptid when a group of divers got a photo of him, albeit it fuzzy/blurry.

He’s obviously not aware of human cryptid culture.

Redditors think his viral photo is photoshopped.

Zoe isn’t as curious about humans. She is curious of the sky above and loves to watch birds as they fly around and feed on fish.

She goes stargazing a lot against her parents wishes. It’s dangerous at night and her parents (and most merpeople) fear poachers.

Zoe collects starfish on her tailfins. Since they are living creatures, she always communicates with them and makes sure they are okay with it.

Connor will leave jewelry and funky human artifacts he finds in Zoe’s room. She doesn’t know Connor is the one that leaves her random items and just assumes it’s Cynthia.

Cynthia is fascinated with human artifacts and frequents a lot of merpeople who are traders for human trinkets.

However, she is terrified of humans and doesn’t dare go near them. When she was younger, she got tangled up I’m a fishing net that belonged to poachers.

Larry is also fascinated with human trinkets, but not as much as Cynthia. Being an Oceanic Whitetip, he loves the tale of the USS Indianapolis.

He and Connor used to search shipwrecks together, but they’ve since grown apart and haven’t hunted or scavenged together in a long time.

I already said a bit of this in my last post, but being a Coconut Octopus, Evan uses physical objects to hide in and behind as a form of camouflage.

Though camouflage isn’t really necessary for merpeople being that they are able to fend for themselves and create/use tools, weapons, utensils, etcetera.

Evan’s camo is more of a reflex with his anxiety. If he’s nervous, anxious, or embarrassed, he’ll find the nearest Evan-sized object and fold himself up to fit. His tentacles can fold together tightly, he just has to account for his upper body not being as flexible.

Heidi is a Mimic Octopus as uses her camo as more of a fun party tricks. Mimic Octopus are able to disguise with many backgrounds, but are also able to contort and arrange their tentacles to resemble other species.

When Evan was little, they would travel to shallow banks along islands where the sun shone through the water really brightly. She’d contort her tentacles and do little shadow puppets of other species for him on the sand.

So, Jared is a pufferfish and not a porcupine fish. He has spines, but they’re very small and thin. They usually only show up when he’s inflated.

He HATES being inflated but it’s happens a lot.

Basically any elevated emotion inflates him. He’s angry? Puff! He’s playful? Puff! He’s excited? Puff! He’s sad? Puff! He’s [redacted]? PUFF!

He doesn’t care too much about human culture, but he is aware of this cursed video. He was hanging around a boat with a bunch of spring breakers and slipped a phone for a few minutes, stumbling across Youtube. Connor thinks it’s the funniest thing ever.

Oh, yeah, so merpeople don’t have any sort of electronic technology, but some of the most curious ones will snatch devices from boats. They are aware they don’t work underwater, so it’s usually like a dramatic spy scene of mermaids hanging out by boats with phones and tablets and messing around as much as they can for five to ten minutes.

Alana is super social and during vacations from school she’ll travel with merpeople and regular aquatic life and migrate around the world.

She’s traveled literally everywhere and has been doing it since she was a child. Her whole family used to go, but now it’s just her. Her parents trust her to be alone.

Alana has come across Sea World and other marine parks with Orcas and it makes her incredibly angry. There have been a few instances where animals in captivity have… Mysteriously escaped back into the wild…

She does have a super playful side and is very curious of humans despite often having a negative judgement/attitude towards them. When she just wants to have fun or relax, she goes bow riding along the wake of boats. She’s clever enough to not be seen.

Yes, there is merpeople high school because why not.

Again, science doesn’t exist and this au honestly doesn’t have rules.So just go ham and make mermaids, y'all!

I’m still deciding on how I want to portray Miguel, but right now I’m thinking Red Lionfish or Pacific Seahorse.That boy is something very colorful and proud!

So previously I mentioned there being an education system for merpeople as they do form societies.

So all the teens (minus Miguel) go to school together.

Their school, as well as most of the buildings in their particular society, is made up of scrapped parts from shipwrecks and other human debris. There are also some buildings and landmarks carved out of the landscape, but they gotta keep it fresh, keep it interesting. They’re still discovering and learning technology, but in their own unique ways.

(Okay, you probably didn’t even care about that fact but as an enthusiast for a “rebuild from the remains” aesthetic, I have to sprinkle in my little funky twists.)

The particular “town” of merpeople they live in isn’t very large and is constantly changing size and population due to some mers moving in and out.

Evan broke his arm over summer break in a coastal accident.

Seeing that merpeople don’t fully abide by the living standards of their aquatic ancestors, they tend to mix, mingle, and migrate without too much structure. Obviously certain families with stay together and there are some pockets of merpeople who live by more strict cultural rules. But for the sake of au, Evan and the gang live in a more relaxed mer civilization.

So, over the summer Evan was working with a group of mers that focus on coastal wildlife. Evan in particular focused on coral health and how it was being affected by human activity.

But our boy is depressed and lonely, so one day he strays from his usual group of coworkers and ventured toward a cluster of fishing boats. The general rule is don’t go near humans, especially when on the job.

He noticed that some of the boats were anchored, so he grabbed one of them from the seabed, hoisted it up the surface, and launched it above water for his to come crashing down with force behind it.

His arm got pinned under the anchor, thus breaking it.

Now, the rest of the AU at the moment is more freeform and doesn’t follow the plot of the musical, but I did want to included how Evan broke his arm.

Connor is not dead in this particular version of the AU, but feel free to craft multiple storylines and arcs with different outcomes!

Connor does paint his nails!

As previously mentioned, he is very fascinated by human society and like to get a little too close.

So, one day he came across some spring breakers and watched as they went about their activities sunbathing and painting their nails. As soon as they looked away, he stole several bottles.

It’s rare for him to find nail polish, especially since he ruined his first bottle by opening it up under water and losing the contents. But whenever a party boat or a boat of spring breakers rolls by, especially with a bunch of girls, he always has to check.

He quickly learned that whenever he wants to do his nails he has to make a whole thing about hauling himself up to surface and propping on a rock or a beach for some time.

He’s collected his signature black as well as a metallic purple, glittery pink, and bright turquoise. He wears the black and purple the most. He loves the other two colors, but poor baby is insecure and wearing nail polish as a mer is already enough to cause stares.

Jared also thinks that human legs are hot.

When Jared is puffed up, other mers will bop him around like a volleyball. It’s an unfortunate thing for any and all puffers.

Evan’s dad is a Barracuda mer, which for a Barracuda and an Octopus to mate is incredibly rare. It’s a wonder that Evan didn’t come out a totally wack and new sea monster.

But like I said, science doesn’t really exist here! Anything goes! Be whatever mer you wanna be! Love whatever mer you wanna love!

#mermaid au #mer au #deh #dear evan hansen #dear evan hansen au #evan hansen #connor murphy #jared kleinman #alana beck #zoe murphy #cynthia murphy #larry murphy #heidi hansen

12 notes · View notes

wildshadowtamer · 3 years

Text

A Different Path (What If?)

Summary: June 15th, 2002. The Day Of Death.The day Candace Flynn's life got turned upside down.And the day that A Different Path was chosen for all.

Tags: Ducky Momo - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Character Death, car crash, burn scars, burn victim, Fluff and Angst, warning: this fic is dark, especially the first chapter, Inspired by Fanfiction, Based on a Tumblr Post, AU, what if au, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Notes: Credit to @woulddieforperrytheplatypus for suggesting i write this fic! this au belongs to me. Ahead of time TW for Car Crashes, Character Death, Orphaning, and Burns

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Read It On Ao3

Read It Here!

~~~~~

Chapter 1: The Day Of Death

June 15th, 2002

It was a bright morning in Danville, not a cloud in the sky, and little Candace Flynn was in the car with her mother and stepfather, on the way to see the recently released Ducky Momo movie. She could hardly keep still from excitement.

“Oh i can’t wait to see this movie!” Lawrence, her father, exclaimed in his usual british accent, as optimistic and enthusiastic as ever. Candace had always looked up to him for those reasons, she liked his near constant cheer.

“Aren’t you a bit old for a ducky momo movie, dad?” Candace asked curiously, Lawrence chuckled, glancing back at her in the rear view mirror. “Yes, yes i am. But you’re not!”

Linda, her mother, rolled her eyes fondly, a smile tugging at her lips “well we’re almost there, so neither of you will have to wait long.” Candace cheered, hugging her ducky momo plushie close to her chest and adjusting her ducky momo baseball cap

“What a beautiful day it is, wouldn’t you say, dear?” Lawrence asked his wife, whom he married this very day exactly one year ago, “yes it is, dear” Linda responded, watching the people walk by with their strange and interesting pets of all shapes and sizes, she recognised a few of the owners as her friends.

“A beautiful sunny day, not a cloud in the sky, why this reminds me of when i was a lad, out fishing on the lakes of britain. You can’t get a more perfect day than this.” Lawrence reminisced, keeping one hand on the wheel and the other resting beside the open window of the car.

Candace got a strange feeling, like a cloud of dread suddenly appeared in the clear blue sky. She looked out the window and saw a single grey cloud slowly rolling in the direction of their house, she felt her stomach drop suddenly.

Something was going to go very, very wrong.

As the car crossed an intersection, an old black car sped down the upper section on their left, barrelling towards them seemingly uncontrollably. Candace turned her head to look at the car moments before it smashed into the side of the vehicle, flipping the car onto its hood and shattering the windows.

What happened next, Candace can’t recall clearly. All she remembers is seeing her parents unconscious in the front seats, and the car going up in flames as she struggled to undo the seatbelt trapping her in the flaming wreckage.

There was yelling and panic from the surrounding witnesses, and the fire department swiftly arrived, pulling all three of them- and the driver of the other car- to safety. But Candace couldn’t understand anything that was happening, her vision blurry with tears, and a screaming pain went through her entire left side and lingered there.

She saw the blurry remains of the flaming car, and everything went black.

Many Days Later,

Candace stood sobbing in front of her parent’s graves, her little brothers clinging to her sides, teary-eyed. Phineas was too young to really understand what happened, but he still cried, as he hated seeing his big sister upset. Ferb, however, stood silently beside them, one hand on Candace’s shirt, the other loosely holding the half-burnt Ducky Momo plushie Candace loved so dearly. Even at 4, he understood the situation, and mourned in total silence.

The Graveyard felt bitter and cold that evening, and the children stayed there for several more hours, not moving even when the sun set and the city went dark.

It felt like the whole world was against them.

2 notes · View notes

giganttifantti-blog1 · 4 years

Text

Cut and edit video with this video editor for free

The maximum volume can be specified in percent. This function is applicable to original content as well as content for which audio filters have already been defined. 2K and 4K videos are supported and it is now possible to open files with H265 / HEVC codecs and live photo images created on iPhone. Add effects and transitions using drag-and-drop. Choose from a wide range of effects and transitions for every purpose. You can even animate many properties. Add videos, audio content, and graphics without worrying about the format. We need the email address for sending, the time stamp including IP address at the time from legal documentation obligations. Rotating videos Sometimes videos recorded with the smartphone camera are displayed in the wrong orientation on the PC.

Flip effect has been improved and added as a separate tool to the quick access panel. Freeform tool added with options for drawing objects with linear and spline paths. This has numerous profiles that let you quickly convert videos for any device such as a Playstation. In the process, unwanted areas can be removed, video parts separated and reunited. The editor allows adding a large number of video effects, filters and improvements. Images of existing clips can be cleaned and sharpened in this way.

After Effects, the most popular tool for designing animated visuals among creative professionals, enables the creation of breathtaking graphics and astonishing effects.

Video files can be arranged in several tracks and can be supplemented by audio and images .

Nothing changed in the project and everything was correct, only the final video was ruined.

If the project is damaged, it can be restored.

Free Video Editor 1.4.56.703 for Windows

You have the opportunity to support the project. You can subscribe to technical support. We will help you in every way and quickly to solve your tasks and problems with our products. The video editor enables the editing of video files and the creation of video clips of different complexity with a variety of video and audio effects. The app crashes while splitting a file into video and audio while the object is locked. Would you like to cut, optimize and edit your holiday videos with effects, filters and graphic helpful hints elements, the "VSDC Free Video Editor" is a good choice. The free software is an alternative to expensive video editing programs such as Adobe Premiere Elements. Previously, the parameters had a fixed value or changed linearly with the change in the effect, from the beginning to the end of the effect. Now the parameters can change arbitrarily during the effect. This often reduces the burden on the timeline from too many different objects, increases comfort and reduces the time required to create the project. Clicking Convert outputs the video in the same format and in a new file. The software is smooth and straightforward and supports a variety of file formats. Overall great for a freebie. Movie Maker Free Video Editor is the perfect tool for anyone looking for an inexpensive and easy way to edit videos. The software contains all the necessary basic functions to start cutting, splicing and changing video clips as you wish.

#video editor for free

1 note · View note

fy-dr-janefoster · 6 years

Link

by Wings_of_Icarus

Tony didn't think his life could get any weirder. He'd been kidnapped by terrorists, fought his ex-friend in a suit made of metal, almost died several times over, and a shit ton of other crap that he tried to repress. The last thing he expected was for a man claiming to be the Norse God of Mischief to crash land on his property, and he certainly didn't expect to form a friendship with him. As for Loki, well, he always saw humans as mere blinks in time. Useless, compared to the Aesir. But after he discovers that his family isn't as perfect as he thought, he starts to see humans in a different light. And perhaps some of them are even worth caring for.

Words: 4627, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Thor (Movies)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Loki (Marvel), Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Thor (Marvel), Steve Rogers/Captain America, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Various S.H.I.E.L.D. agents

Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts (Past Relationship), Jane Foster/Thor (background)

Additional Tags: y'know how Thor became more sarcastic bc of Tony?, yeah it's that except with Loki, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers - Freeform, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Mind Control, Odin's A+ Parenting, Never introduce gods to ramen (it'll make sense later), Midgard isn't so bad

Thane Fosterson via AO3 works tagged 'Jane Foster/Thor'

#IFTTT #Feedly

1 note · View note

5typesoftrash · 4 years

Text

Inhibitions - Chapter 2

Author: quicksilvermalec Artist: starfleetcadet1 Rating: M for swearing, mature themes, and minor sexual content Pairings: Sastiel, Castiel/Ezekiel, Castiel/Crowley Warnings: Rape/Non-Con (mentioned) Brief Tags: Angst, Pining, Drug Use, Minor Character Death Summary: So Castiel isn't the most - moral? Conventional? Call it what you like - attorney, but fuck if he isn't one of the best in the state of California. He's gone up against lawyers from all over and only lost a handful of cases in twenty years. So when a young up-and-comer beat him in a case he should have bagged, of course he was interested. But he wasn't expecting this.

[longer tags, link to art post, and fic under the cut]

Extended Tags: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No supernatural, Alternate Universe - No Angels, Alternate Universe, lawyer AU, Lawyer Sam Winchester, Lawyer Castiel, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied Sexual Content, minor explicit sexual content, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Minor Character Death, Offscreen character death, Getting Together, Getting Back Together, Falling In Love, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, First Kiss, First Time, breaking up, Breaking Up & Making Up, Betrayal, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Grief, Trauma, Negative Religious Experiences, Religious Sam Winchester, Mentions of Corrective Rape, Gay Castiel, Pansexual Sam Winchester, Pansexual Gabriel, Black Lives Matter, Protests, Pining, Mutual Pining, Age Difference, Widowed Castiel, Sad Castiel, Hurt Castiel, Endverse Castiel - Freeform, Sad Sam Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Good Brother Gabriel, Protective Gabriel, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, POV Castiel, Castiel is a Novak (Supernatural), this story is all over the fuckin place, kind of a wild ride with plenty of twists, enjoy!!

Have a link to the art and you can read this story on AO3 as well! 🧡

“Tea?” Gabriel asks in amusement as his brother sits down on his couch.

“That would be lovely, darling,” says an admittedly very high Castiel in his best impression of Balthazar.

Gabriel snorts, disappearing into the kitchen to make it. Castiel has always been one hundred percent positive that if not for the fact that he greatly enjoyed tea, especially when he was high, Gabriel would never have it in his house. However, thanks to the fact that Castiel very much did enjoy it, Gabriel somehow never ran out. It’s quite miraculous and wonderful.

Castiel laughs nigh hysterically on the couch until Gabriel returns. “Alright, crazy boy, get your stoned ass over here and drink this tea I just made for you.”

“But Gaaaaabriel,” Castiel chuckles. “Gabriel. Gaybriel. Are you gay?”

“No,” Gabriel says, sounding unamused but resigned. “I’m pansexual. I’ve told you this a thousand times.”

“Oh,” Castiel replies. “Well that’s kinda like gay.”

“No, you’re gay. I’m LGBT.”

He shrugs. “Whatever. Same difference. Ooh, tea!” Castiel reaches for his mug and slops some of the tea onto his leg. He doesn’t even notice in his hurry to drink it. “Ah! It’s hot! What the fuck!”

He puts it back down. “How dare you bring me something hot?”

“Did you want cold tea, Castiel?” Gabriel asks, sounding resigned and exhausted.

“I- yes? No. What’s the right answer?”

“I think you need sleep,” Gabriel mutters. “Here’s a blanket.” He tosses it at Castiel and it hits the younger Novak in the face.

“No,” Castiel whines. “I don’t wanna.”

“Jesus Christ,” Gabriel declares as Castiel tosses the blanket onto the floor. Gabe watches his brother stand up with hollow, miserable eyes.

Then Castiel looks down, then back at Gabriel accusatorily. “My leg is wet!” he shouts. “Why the fuck is my leg wet, Gabriel? What did you do? Did you spit on my leg?”

Gabriel takes a deep breath, dragging the palm of his left hand down his face. “No, Castiel,” he says as patiently as possible. “You spilled tea on yourself.”

“Oh,” says Cas. He picks up his tea again. “Still hot. I’m still mad at you!”

Gabriel groans and lays back. “Dear god,” he mutters to the ceiling. “Why does this always happen to me, and never to any of my brothers.”

It might be Castiel’s imagination, but he thinks he hears a voice reply, because Castiel actually trusts you.

He may be wasted and useless, but he knows the voice of God when he hears it.

You’re a dick.

That’s all the text says. Castiel scoffs and shoves his phone back in his pocket after he reads it.

He knows he’s a dick. Gabriel has made himself quite clear on that on several occasions. Plus, Castiel is on a mission right now; a mission to recruit himself a new, brilliant attorney.

When he walks into Sam’s office, the other man is on the phone.

“Yes, Dean,” he’s saying. “I know you need me to cover the water bill. I’ll have it by the end of the month, I just don’t have it now. Yeah, I’ll get paid! I get paid in like two weeks. Okay? I’m gonna get almost three thousand dollars then and we’ll be able to cover rent and utilities. Jesus- yes, I can hear you yelling at me- oh my god. Dean- look, Dean, you know that attorney I ‘fangirl’ over all the time? Yeah, he just walked into my office. I’ll call you back.”

He hangs up without saying goodbye, then mutters, “fucking asshole.”

Castiel snorts. “Who was that?”

“Older brother,” Sam replies quietly. “Dean. He’s… kind of a dick sometimes. I love the shit out of him, and he’s a good guy, but he just doesn’t know how to be… not intense. He doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘moderation’, I guess.” He trails off, then seems to come back to himself, snapping to attention. “Anyway, I’m oversharing again. What’s up?”

Castiel smiles. “I have an offer to make you.”

Sam blinks. “Hm?”

“Would you like to work for Novak Represents as a defense attorney? We’ll be paying you about seven thousand five hundred dollars a month to start off, you’ll be assigned regular cases, benefits, paid paternity leave, the whole shebang. What do you say?”

Sam worries his bottom lip with his teeth. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I’ll consider it.”

Castiel winks at him. “Get back to me within a week and we’ll be just fine.”

Sam flushes and stares down at his desk until Castiel disappears out the door.

He pulls out his blunt – he can’t be found almost anywhere without one in hand – and lights it as he walks back to his car. He’ll simply have to hope that Sam accepts his offer.

He arrives at home safely – as always, despite Gabriel’s insistence that smoking while driving impairs him and that he’ll most definitely crash his car one day – and puts the kettle on, as is his routine. He sighs, falling into a chair and rubbing his forehead. It might just be age, but he’s more and more exhausted lately, as if every small thing he does expends three times as much energy as it did a decade ago. As if his life is perpetually making itself harder.

He turns on the TV, tosses his used blunt, takes off his shoes, and returns to the kitchen as the kettle whistles its warning. As he sets about making his tea, his mind wanders back to Sam.

Sam Winchester. The boy who could run the world if he set his mind to it. The boy who owns a firm at the age of thirty. The most skilled and talented lawyer Castiel has ever had the immense pleasure of meeting. Most people don’t have both.

Sam Winchester.

What is it about Sam Winchester that Castiel finds so fascinating?

It’s not simply his looks; looks have never been that important to Castiel, although he won’t deny that Sam is attractive. It’s not simply his competence in the courtroom, although that is certainly a major factor.

There’s something about him. Something… unique. Something that draws Castiel toward him, but he couldn’t identify it if he wanted to. Something-

“Ah! Fuck!” he shouts, pulling his burned hand away. “Goddammit.” He sets down the kettle and turns to the sink, running his hand under the cool flow of water.

Let this be a lesson, he tells himself. You cannot afford to get distracted in this job or this life. Not even by young, mysterious, attractive defense attorneys.

“Castiel!” shouts an enthusiastic – if aggravated – voice from outside.

Oh, fuck.

That would be Kevin.

“Come on, Castiel,” adds another, this one reproachful.

Lovely.

And Anna.

“What do you want?” he yells in the general direction of the window.

Kevin and Anna are two young people who live on his block. (Fuck him for calling them ‘young people’, he’s forty, not sixty.) Kevin’s in undergrad, almost 20 (he’s half Castiel’s age. Half!) and Anna’s twenty-six and working on her doctorate. They like to come around and bother him. Sometimes they do his yardwork or repair things in his house, but mostly they yell at him or ask him questions.

Today is no different, evidently.

“Can we come in, Castiel?” Anna demands.

“Have you fallen down?” Kevin jokes.

Castiel rolls his eyes and lets them inside. “I don’t know what your problem with me is.”

“We don’t have a problem,” Anna says happily as she traipses inside. “We happen to be very impressionable, wide-eyed young people who find ourselves interested in the wisdom of a much older, more experienced person such as yourself.”

“Fuck you,” Castiel mutters, slamming his door. “Why are you really here?”

“Homework help,” Kevin admits. “I needed you to help me write this paper.”

“Jesus Christ, I have cases to prepare for!” Castiel exclaims. “I can’t just sit here tutoring you both all day every day.”

“Oh,” Kevin says quietly. “That’s fine, we’ll leave. See you another day, Castiel.”

Castiel sighs and rests his head on the coffee table. “Alright, get your ass over here. What’s the paper on?”

Castiel only has one true friend, in the sense of another person in one’s peer group whose company one seeks out voluntarily for entertainment and without an ulterior motive such as requiring a service; a comrade.

Castiel’s friend is named Crowley.

Crowley is, by all accounts and all possible definitions of the word, an asshole.

However, as has been established between the two, Crowley is definitively Castiel’s asshole. They’ve even slept together on multiple occasions, although they’ve both made it very clear that they’re not interested in going anywhere else with that.

Castiel, for some bizarre reason that even he could never quite put his finger on, actually enjoys Crowley’s company, and they’ve managed to remain good friends for a number of years despite having fought and been very angry with each other quite a lot of times.

So when Crowley calls Castiel that night, he’s relieved. When Crowley calls Castiel, it never means anything more than ‘let’s go for a drink’ or ‘let’s have a snog’. On one rather (extremely) memorable occasion, it meant ‘let’s go on an impromptu trip to Hawai’i, wear floral print, get sunburned, and drink fruity alcoholic beverages on the beach for several days’. (They returned to quite the disasters in their respective places of work.) Crowley never calls for Reasons. Crowley calls for the exact opposite.

(When Castiel calls Crowley, it always means ‘I need something from you.’ Specifically, weed.

For some reason, Crowley doesn’t seem to have any problems with that. Maybe that’s because Castiel never argues and simply goes along with all of Crowley’s insane schemes.)

So Crowley calls Castiel. And Castiel feels immense relief.

“Hullo, Castiel!” Crowley says in his rough, sandpapery, Scottish drawl. “How are you, darling?”

Castiel laughs quietly. “I’m just fine, Crowley. How have you been?”

“Quite lonely. Can you imagine when all your friends are bloody pricks except for one who never calls, that might be a bi’ of a lonely existence?”

Castiel manages to muster a small amount of shame. “Well, propose something to me then. Make me come out with you and do something insane. What is it this week, busting a crime ring in Reno? Buying illegal substances and distributing them to college students?”

“Hm,” Crowley says softly. “What’s a fun and illegal thing to do? How do you feel about hijacking a classic car for a cross-country road trip?”

“What kind of classic car?” Castiel asks, intrigued.

“There’s someone down the street from me at the moment with a nineteen sixty-seven Chevrolet Impala. It’s black, sleek, positively gorgeous, angel. Want to have a go at it?”

“Maybe later,” Castiel laughs. “For now, I think I’ll just join you for some whiskey.”

“I’m already at our favorite meet-up spot.”

“I’ll be there in five,” Castiel says, and hangs up.

Their favorite meeting spot is a bar on the corner of Nowhere Place and Who Gives a Fuck Avenue. It’s called Honeybee, which Castiel suspects Crowley knows is why he likes it, and they have strippers and hookers there, which Castiel suspects is why Crowley likes it.

Plus they have absolutely exquisite booze.

Castiel finds Crowley at the bar nursing a beer and sits down next to him, grinning.

“Good evening,” Crowley murmurs, taking a sip of his drink. “What’ll it be?”

“Vodka tonic,” Castiel requests of the bartender, turning in his seat to look at Crowley. “What heinous schemes have you been up to since last we spoke?”

Crowley scoffs quietly. “Oh, Castiel, you always think so little of me.”

“Not little,” Castiel rebukes. “Accurate.”

“Touché,” Crowley laughs. “It’s the same as always, angel, selling reefer to anyone who’ll buy and seducing barely-legals, what did you expect? I’m not going to suddenly change my evil ways because you ask.”

The sarcasm and sass are positively dripping from the emphasized words, but Castiel isn’t fazed at all. He simply takes a swig of his drink and replies, “I didn’t ask.”

“That’s true. And I’m glad you haven’t because that would complicate things quite a lot.”

“Indeed it would,” Castiel replies.

They drink and talk for quite a while, but ultimately Crowley passes over Castiel’s companionship for that twenty-two year old in the corner who’s been eyeing him up all night and Castiel goes home alone.

What else isn’t new.

Balthazar calls him up next. It’s three days since he paid Sam that visit to his firm and he needs something to entertain him while he’s rolling in cash and no cases.

“Hello Castiel!” he says eagerly. “How have you been getting along?”

Castiel smiles. Balthazar always manages to make him smile. “I’ve been alright,” he replies. “How’s it going with you?”

“I’m just wonderful,” Balthazar says cheerfully. “But you sound bored.”

“Out of my mind,” Castiel confesses.

“Then come on over to mine and we’ll play a board game, shoot the shit.”

Castiel sighs happily. “That sounds amazing. When?”

“Anytime. I’m free all week.”

“Great. I’ll see you in forty-five minutes.”

Castiel’s relationship with Balthazar has always been better than anyone in his family besides Gabriel. Gabriel was never hard, seeing as how they were closer in age and interests and practically everything. Gabriel had also been kind to him when none of his other family was. By the time Castiel was ten, Michael was solely supporting them with what limited income he could scrape together as a nineteen-year-old high school dropout and Lucifer had gotten himself emancipated and moved out. Gabriel was the only who had been there with him for the vast majority of his childhood.

Balthazar, meanwhile, has always been the ‘hot cousin’ of the family. (With Castiel, obviously, as the gay cousin.) He was never awkward as a child, spewing sass like hot rocks from the tender age of four and his body never becoming gangly or disproportionate. Even now, in his mid-fifties, he’s beautiful in the sort of indescribable way that older people often manage to be, the sort of beauty that is utterly unattainable (and completely unfathomable) to the very young.

And Castiel always idolized him, when they were children together. They are thirteen years apart, so when Castiel was seven, Balthazar was turning twenty, and from practically the moment Castiel knew what a crush was, he had one on Balthazar.

As Castiel gathers his things to meet his cousin at his house, he sighs. He’s so tired, always. He swears it didn’t used to be like this. He hopes it gets better, but he knows that it probably won’t.

He forgets to lock his house.

“So, tell me of this Samuel Winchester,” Balthazar says playfully as Castiel is setting up Sorry!. Castiel scoffs and knocks over Balthazar’s pieces as retribution.

“You know everything there is to know.”

“No I don’t,” Balthazar says teasingly. “And you know that I don’t. Don’t you couzie?”

“Screw you with a jackhammer,” Castiel replies.

“Oh, saucy today are we?” Balthazar’s light, cheerful tone never falters. “There’s the sassy Castiel I’ve come to know and love. Tell me, darling, what’s the behind-the-scenes? What are you feeling that no one else is privy to? As the kids say, ‘spill the tea’.”

“I hate you so much,” Castiel says with a totally straight face. Apparently knocking over tiny, translucent, colored pieces of plastic wasn’t enough to vent his frustration, so he takes Balthazar’s expression far too literally and knocks his cousin’s mug of tea onto the floor.

“You delightful bastard,” Balthazar exclaims, staring at him in awe. “You positively fabulous prick.”

“You pompous ass,” Castiel grumbles under his breath.

“Clean my carpet, you arsehole, but first, I really do need to hear about this Winchester character now.”

Castiel can feel his resolve wearing away and he sighs. “Fine, for Christ’s sake if it will make you shut the hell up, okay. What do you want to know?”

“Are you falling for him, Cassie dear?”

Castiel scoffs. “I’ve met him twice, Balthazar.”

But of course, that’s not an answer. The number of times he’s interacted with Sam has, in fact, very little impact on how he feels about him. And as it stands… he isn’t quite sure whether he’s falling for Sam. He’d like to believe he knows better than that.

Balthazar must be able to read his thoughts, or else they’re just very in tune with each other, because he replies, “time doesn’t always have an impact on how you feel about someone.”

Castiel groans and tosses his head back over the back of his chair. “Look, Balthazar, if you wanted a love confession or some sort of cheesy, romantic-as-shit speech you should’ve gotten me drunk or high – or, best option, both. I don’t have anything for you.”

Balthazar hums distractedly. “Alright, then, Castiel. But don’t think I won’t be checking in on him.”

“Dear fucking god please do not do that.”

“Too late!” Balthazar cackles. “It’s in my calendar already.”

Castiel gets the call at 8pm on Thursday, six days after he paid his little house call to Sam’s office. Caller ID: Unknown Number. He answers it.

“Castiel Novak?” asks an all-too-familiar voice that really shouldn’t be familiar.

Castiel smiles. “This is he.”

“Hi, it’s Sam Winchester,” replies the voice on the other end.

“Yes, I figured that out,” Castiel replies. “Have you considered my offer?”

“Yeah,” Sam says, all breath and no voice. “I’ve… I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I just…” He trails off, and Cas worries for a moment that he won’t resume speaking, but then he says, “I’m sorry, Castiel, but I can’t accept.”

Cas freezes. “I- wait, what? Why not?”

Sam sighs. “Well, I just… I love my little firm. You know? And I don’t wanna become one of those selfish big shot lawyers who looks out for number one and has no morals. Uh, no offense.”

“None taken,” Castiel murmurs absently, barely aware of anything he’s saying. Not that it particularly matters, because Sam is just continuing on.

“I became a lawyer to help people, and by representing these economically disadvantaged young black protesters, I can actually do that. So… no, unless you’re planning to let me keep doing this, to let me keep not charging these people for the work I’m doing for them, I can’t take this position.”

“I understand,” Castiel replies softly. “Thank you.”

His phone falls to the floor and he stares at the wall. He might be in shock. He isn’t sure.

Masterpost | Next | Previous

#sastiel #sastiel big bang 2020 #sam winchester #castiel #lawyer!sam #lawyer!cas #deansil writes #drugs #balthazar #anna milton #kevin tran #crowley

0 notes

rageagainstthemarine · 6 years

Text

Do Not Reach Beyond the Sky (5/?)

Warnings: None Tags: Canon-typical violence, Freeform, Retelling, Original Characters, Additional Tags Pairing: None yet Characters: All of them

Fahleon Lavellan is several things, a Dalish elf, a deserter Warden, but Herald of Andraste is not of them. The Creators have played a cruel trick if anyone is to believe he played some part of the Conclave even if the evidence is a rift-sealing mark on his hand. Where he does fit, he doesn’t know and isn’t fond of finding out.

Previous|Current|Next

The demons did come, faster and harder than Fahleon was prepared for. They tore their way through the men battling them to claw at his head and slash at his mind. They mocked his weaknesses and prided themselves on his useless powers while whispering of the kind he'd need to defeat them. They promised he could attain it. They described the true horror he had yet to face and leaked hints to just how he could protect himself. He only needed to give up, to give in, they encouraged. Fahleon turned out their sharp-toothed likes and looked past their spittle slick lips. He could do no more, not when the mark in his hand took every part of his attention just to push away the Fade and stop the Breach. He'd bear their laughter and their taunts but he wouldn't move from his spot unless it killed him.

From the way the air burned and popped and hissed with every pulse, he thought it very well may have.

"Run," the Divine yelled, from somewhere, muted by time and space. Fahleon felt the memory as a quiver in his calves and squashed down on the impulse to flee. If sealing the Breach could kill him, turning back now absolutely would. The Veil twisted and turned in violent attempts to wrench itself free from its grasp and would snap back at him given the chance. He tightened his told on the magic coursing through him even as it slipped between his fingers. The effort of it made him dizzy and nauseous and he grit his teeth against the overwhelming tide.

At the rate he was going, the demons would force their way through the elgar'vian, and Fahleon wasn't sure he could fight off both the Fade and the demons that lived within in.

"Kill him," a rough voice roared above the cacophony of whispers, crackling of the Fade, and the battle cries of those around him, and Fahelon found himself waking with a snarl ripped from this throat.

The crash of steel against scales and snap of heated air was replaced by his raspy cry. Fahleon clutched at his throat and swallowed to ease the roughness if it. He could feel his pulse jump like a frightened rabbit beneath his fingers, and he drew in a handful of slow breaths until he felt it calm. There was no foe to fight here, no enemy to stare down or push back against - wherever he was.

A cabin. A small one and much more intact than the temple of Sacred Ashes. Yet, just as unused.

Dust turned the pelts that adorned the walls gray and insects had eaten at the woven tapestries that hung above the doors and stretched along the windows like curtains until their patterns were one, dull, color. A thick rug coated the floor and collected rat pellets. Unsteady light streamed through the branches of a tree outside to cast shifting shadows from a golden afternoon sun without any trace of a greenish glow. Charming was the least of the place's qualities, but Fahleon cared only for its quiet and distance from demons.

Fahleon let out a breath and the panic leeched out of his limbs until he was tired and empty. He should have learned more about his surroundings or his whereabouts at the least, but it meant rising from the bed he laid on in search of answers. He'd have to ask someone, and it was the knowledge that it would be Cassandra he'd have to ask that kept him all the more firmly planted against the pillows.

They were damp with his sweat and he wrinkled his nose. There was less of an issue if it came to finding someone to change the sheets. Fahleon threw them off and gave the bandages wrapped tight around his middle a brief look until the sharp sound of a plate shattering to the floor drew his attention. Dread wolf take him for letting his guard down. He curled his lip at the girl who stood, hunched and curled in on herself as if her arms and elbows could protect her from the shards. They wouldn't protect her from him if she tried to move any closer than the low table she pressed against. He should have known the shems would try something the moment his usefulness outlived himself. It was a wonder his hands were free even now, and not clapped in irons again - once more the guilty party he'd first been. More surprising, still, was that they hadn't simply skip over the show of slowly dragging him across town, belting out his crimes, and kill him on the spot. Yet, that was. Worse, still, was that he was still alive for another purpose. To be leashed and trained like a docile servant for the humans that ruled above. There was still time to fit in another disappointment.

He bared his teeth and hoped he looked as intimidating as he hoped despite injured, confused, and without any weapons. Even Ada was gone.

The girl flinched nonetheless and the pitcher she held in her other hand joined the plate on the floor. She yelped and jumped away as water splashed up her legs.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know when you'd wake up. I'll go - I have to, I have to tell the Seeker -"

"Wait," Fahleon snarled. He'd tear himself in half if he had to see that woman again. She halted so abruptly that only her hands shook as the rest of her stilled mid-step, one leg still bent and ready to take her back to the door. "Tell me where I am."

She wobbled on her one leg and her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "I-I'm supposed to tell the Seeker-"

He glared at her. He'd tear her in half first, and then himself, if it meant he wouldn't have to see Cassandra. He would not cowed like an animal for the slaughter. "You won't tell her anything. Answer me," he continued and there was a sudden and heady rush of power at the vigorous nod she gave him. It knocked the white braids wrapped around her head to show the slight point to her ears, and he blew out a breath. He pitched his voice lower. "What happened. After the..." What had they called it? Fahleon turned his eyes up towards the window to look for the elgar'vian again.

"The Breach, messer?" She finally returned her foot to the ground and straightened the apron hung loose over dress before folding her empty hands in front of her. Her eyes slowly moved from the broken silverware to stop and stare at his hand, and Fahleon felt his fingers twitch under her wide-eyed look. "You closed it. The demon came pouring through the tear until you showed up. They've been calling you the Herald."

He curled his fingers over the wound that still stretched across his palm to hide it from her sight. He felt his skin buzz with the power still leaking from it, but it was a faint tingle compared to the burn it had been before he'd shoved it at the Breach like he had any thought as to what was supposed to happen. He'd only wished to end it all, the climb to the mountains, the judging eyes always weighted heavy on his back, the overwhelming threat of demons, and then that burn had been directed at the rift itself.

He had the power to control the Fade and fight the demons that pushed against it. He had the power to inspire a misplaced hope in some hearts, and fear in others. Himself as well, and Fahleon didn't know if which one of those he was. He wasn't a mage with the knowledge to understand the magics he held and fought against. He wasn't a warrior to stand strong and resolute against the tides of war. He was a hunter, a drawn out but one time chase that ended in bloodshed. He was an elf, and one that liked only his own company. His concerns stretched as far as the boundaries set by his forests, his battles fought only against the hunger of his clan. Fahleon was no hero, no savior, no Herald.

He looked up to demand of her again and caught the girl sneaking towards the still open door. She squeaked when she was spotted and she stuttered on a hasty apology. "I have to tell the Seeker."

Fahleon cursed under his breath and swung his legs over the side of the bed, bandaged wounds or not. She worried his lip, bitting down harder with every second it took for him to find his footing, and he ignored her offer to help as he crossed the room. He refused her offered arm, too, and she hesitated to go for the items she'd dropped as he stood over them.

"What were you doing?" Was she sent to spy on him after all? Or was this all a clever ruse, meant to get him to talk while played as a simple interaction. He couldn't trust any of them as far as he could throw them.

"I...I was bringing it. I was tasked with taking the food and drink to you. And to go to the Chantry the moment you awoke to tell the Seeker.”

Fahleon's brow twitched as he stood over the spilled meal. The ground rolled up to meet him when he bent to pick up the cracked plate and he once again smacked her outstretched arm away with a growl. He snatched up one of the rolls that had oncebeen piled on it, brushing off an insect with a sweep of his thumb. The bread was hard and dry and difficult to eat, but his empty stomach welcomed it. "I'll find the Seeker. Not you."

“Y-yes, ser. My name is Raya, if it pleases," she said. He hadn't asked and he wasn't pleased.

"Disgusting,” he told her, even as he bit into it again.

She blinked, a frown forming on her face as she held the platter out to accept it. Fahleon turned away from it and watched a pair of guardsman pass by. Several more were hidden around the perimeter of the house, identified by the sharp glares of sunlight on armor. When he passed by them to find Cassandra, they hesitated for only a moment of shock before slapping a fist against their breastplate. A man across the path dropped the box of supplies in his haste to copy them. His ears twitched at the hush that settled around him. It followed him up the hill to the Chantry, a silent ghost on his back.

Dread wolf take him, indeed. If Cassandra didn't kill him before someone else did.

Like Chancellor Roderick - or whoever the weasel employed to do it for him. What strength his convictions held was found only in his voice and nowhere near his arms. At least, not enough to do the beheading himself. If he even needed to. Fahleon would cut his own head off if it relieved the headache pounding behind his eyes just from the sound of it as it echoed through the Chantry's interior. One more demand to ship him away to another cell in another city had him turning from the elaborate door it came from to find an axe behind a smaller and much less detailed one. He half-heartedly hoped he'd find something sharp within.

Sharp eyes and sharp tongues made him groan.

The squeak of hold hinges and his muttered curse interrupted a heated argument discussing a topic he hated even more than the ones about himself - politics. Fancy names and all the times their owners thought it earned them.

"You cannot prove the Inquisition was founded on Justinia's orders," a man snapped. Fahleon mistook him for a woman for all the whining he did. A real mustached twitched under a fake one when he frowned with what part of his dry lips showed under the mask. Fahleon curled his lip when the man spat at him.

"More of the faithful flock to Haven every day, Marquis," a real woman soothed from the shadowed corner of the room. A candle lit atop some sort of tablet illuminated her face and put a spark in her eye that unnerved him more than the eerie mask. He growled and the woman waved off his anger like the smoke from her flame. The power of her dissimial was its own sort of magic that the Fade wound couldn't feel. "Let me introduce you to the brave soul that allowed this happen by risking his life to slow the magic of the Breach. Ser Lavellan," she said, with another and entirely different gesture of her hand. Fahleon flinched but only a brush of air hit his cheeks. "May I present the Marquis DuRebllion - one of Divine Justinia's greatest supporters."

"And rightful owner of Haven," he added, too quick for Fahleon to even draw in a breath to deny his pleasure. "House DuRellion lent Justinia these lands for pilgrimage, not as a beneficiary to this 'Inquisition'." Fahleon's fingers twitched at his sides and it was the only the thought that Cassandra would, somehow, find out that kept them from reaching out to strangle the man just to make his voice stop. "I will not stand by and let some upstart order remain on her holy grounds," he added, with much less resolution, and Fahleon crossed his arms with a raise of his brows.

"So sit," he growled.

The woman let out a choked noise and she covered it up with a polite cough. "You will have to do neither. If you do not take Seeker Pentaghast at her word, she may challenge you to a duel." The Marquis's strangled noise was the first one he bothered to listen to out of his mouth. "It is a matter of honor among Nevarra. Shall I arrange it for tonight?"

"No, no," he said with a wave of his arms. "That won't be necessary. I...admit I may have been hasty with my reaction to the Inquisiton's presence."

"That would have been the best part of my wook," Fahleon said as he watched the door swing shut behind the noble. Or not noble. Did he have to claim land to keep his title? He rubbed at his temples and wondered why he cared.

"The DuRellions are Orlesian," she explained, though he hadn't asked and certainly wouldn't for any clarification. "Any claim they held to Fereldan would have to first go through Celene to negotiate with Anora on the matter. But these are trying times, Herald. Her current concerns are a bit larger than land disputes; he is not in so strong a position as he believes. Unfortunately, he is not the only disgruntled...dignitary we will have to contend with."

The Chancellor's voice resounded louder as he made another claim on his head, and Fahleon let out a sigh. Any other distraction that took him from the Chantry would only make his sentence worse for him. He might as well head in while the fight was still good.

"If anyone calls you," she started, and Fahleon gave her what very little patience he had left for her to voice her thought. She tapped the feathered end of her quill against her lips and cleared her throat. "If anyone would dare you call you something you dislike, bring it to me. I will have it dealt with at once."

The...warning still stung whether he expected it or not. He thanked her for her...courtesy with as little of a scowl as he could manage with anger and shame tugging hard at the corners of his mouth. He hoped, for everyone's sake, that the Chancellor stood out of the way of the door.

Whether it was Fahleon's luck or Roderick's, he was on the opposite side of the room when Fahleon slammed it open.

"I will not stand-" Roderick had started, and Fahleon's hand dragged down the grain of the door, nails scratching deep into the wood. It was a constant loop with these shems and time magic was not another sort he needed on top of whatever leaked from his hand.

Cassandra's eyes slid from the door back to the Chancellor's. Her voice was tight and rough between clenched teeth. "The Breach is stable, but it still a threat."

"You want me help with that," he said - not asked. Fahleon entered the room proper and gripped the table with both hands to lean his weight against it. He hoped it cracked. Papers were rough under his palms. Maps, they looked like, with all their twisted lines and filled circles. Some had more scribbles on them than just the names of rivers and towns, perhaps soldier movements or rifts but neither held his attention much. It was the feeling of eyes on him that kept his thoughts in place. The Breach wouldn't kill him, not anymore. Demons wouldn't fall from the sky in the rate they had been. Something had caused this other than just a not so happy coincidence and Cassandra was more than happy to cow him into a servant to find out.

Help indeed.

"I want you in chains!" Roderick, again. Fahleon rose to his full height - still two heads shorter than the man - but he didn't need to be taller than the chantry brother. He needed to have stronger convictions, and Fahleon was convinced the man needed to be silenced, forever, more than the Chancellor thought he needed to be imprisoned.

He felt someone at his back and snarled when Leliana placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave," she said. "They could have died with the others. Or have allies that yet still live." Fahleon hadn't looked at her, but he watched Roderick's eyes widen and wondered what she was doing. With the han still on his shoulder, it wasn't much of a mystery.

"Are you suggesting me?" The surprise in Roderick's voice sounded better than any crush of bones under his fist. "I'm a suspect but not the prisoner?'

"Among others," she agreed.

"The Divine did call out to him for help," Cassandra added, quickly, and with an enthusiasm Fahleon didn't think she had anywhere in her frozen, solid core. "We heard her voice in the temple. The Maker...he must have sent you to use in our darkest hour."

Fahleon reeled. Not even Cassandra's physical punches had knocked him off center as hard as that had. "You just wanted me dead. Now I'm your divine savior?"

"Perhaps I was wrong. About many things." Cassandra's nose wrinkled and Fahleon hoped the apology tasted bad on her tongue. "I still could be. But I will not pretend that you were exactly what we needed exactly when we needed it."

"I was dragged from the mountain in chains, not wrapped up like some gift."

"Yet the mark on your hand is the only hope we have to seal the Breach."

"You don't get to decide that!" Roderick demand ended on a high note as Cassandra tossed a thick book on the table in front of him. It scattered the parchment near it and he jumped from the fluttering pages. He glared at the book like it held worse news than that he was already privy too.

"The Divine does - with this writ. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn," she announced, with more conviction than Fahleon and much more than Roderick. "We will close the Breach, we will find those who are responsible, and we will restore order. With or without your approval."

Maybe Roderick was right, as much as it pained Fahleon to admit, and from the ringing in his ears it was very painful. This was much worse news. "If I refuse?"

"You are free to go," Leliana answered as she moved out from behind him and left the door great. "We cannot hold you here, but let it be known that all of Thedas may collapse without you."

"Fantastic."

#dragon age inquisition #dragon age inquisition fanfiction #inquisitor lavellan #cassandra #leliana #varric #solas #fahleon #fanfiction #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age #my writing #do not reach beyond the sky fic

5 notes · View notes

ruffoverthinksthings · 7 years

Note

Hav wyou've seen the Little Mermaid's Ariel's Beginning, that prequel movie? Well I was wondering since it showed Ariel's sister have an actual individual personalities, what do you think happened after the BGU besides becoming menial servings go Atlantis tourists.

Ihaven’t, nor do I have the drive to (Disney D2TV sequels are veryhit or miss for me), but thankfully it’s easy enough to read wikientries and make up personalities from there. A whole lot of myunderstanding of Descendants runs on headcanon andspeculation, anyway, and no one seems to mind!

(Andif you do, feel free to challenge it—I’d love to see a differentinterpretation.)

Thelong and short of it was that they were completely overshadowed byAriel, no hope in hell of ever actually being princesses orgovernment figures of note, and aside from the menial jobs they haveas part of “Atlantian Hospitality” horribly abused by the touristpopulation, they have gone on to find their own ways in life.

Itwas partly inspiration from Ariel’s rebellion and how well thatworked out for her, but mostly necessity, as simply falling in lineand doing whatever is required of you as a princess is just a REALLYshitty way to live, in the time of Auradon.

Theyliken the “Royal” life to being trapped in a coral palace,covered bottom to top with gleaming crystals, beautiful treasures,and abundant plant-life, where there’s no place to hide or enjoyprivacy, people are constantly watching, recording, and talking abouteverything you do, and there’s WAY too many duties and far too manyrestrictions for even their liking.

Specificsisters below:

AsAttina has permanently lost whatever semblance ofcontrol and authority over her sisters she had, she has gone on tolead and guide people who WILL listen to her opinion and actuallyfollow her orders, rather than swimming off to do what they wanted toanyway, sometimes midspeech.

She’scurrently leading the environmental protection and sustainabletourism agency of Atlantica, organizing and supervising efforts toclean-up the bottom of the sea, deal with problematic and rudetourists, and prevent the state from becoming the “landboundAuradonian’s underwater park.”

There’sso much culture, civilian lives, and environmental hotspots that areat stake from all the rampant, uncontrolled tourism, and though Arieldoes help her sister out, there’s only so much attention shecan give when her duties are split between kingdoms both above andbelow the sea—and when majority of the population lives in theformer, Atlantica remains largely out of sight, out of mind.

Alanaruns a business specializing in sustainable and environmentallyfriendly cosmetics, using her new Cosmetology degree and partneringwith the Atlantican farmers and fishers displaced by cheap, easilyproduced “fish food,” seafood, and sea-based products from abovethe ground.

Theywork alongside Attina in preserving the coral reefs, the seaweedfarms, and the underwater caverns from litter and accidentaldestruction, but have a much more profit-minded bent to it—you canonly have so many workers who will do it out of the goodness of theirhearts, after all!

It’sironic that, due to the competition, the cost of production, andhaving to specialize, their customers are oftentimes the sametourists that threaten the ecological balance in the first place, andwhose businesses and investments have contributed to environmentaldamage elsewhere, but fry flaps.

Herbusiness has been gaining traction ever since the effects ofAuradon’s overindustrialization, incredibly wasteful consumeristculture, and Ben’s new policies have taken root in the public’smind, but it’s still a long way from her dream of havingevery state using 100% sustainable, renewable, andenvironmentally-friendly products, sourced from local farmers andproducers, with cities that are basically giant coral reef beds.

Adellais actually partnered with the numerous dating services springing upor finding new life all over Auradon, whether that’s with Aphrodite(Aphrodite, Aphrodite, Aphrodite…! The Goddess of Love!), thedisplaced matchmakers all over the states but especially China, orthe online dating companies leftover from London.

She’squite dualistic about it:

Onthe one hand, she’s still actively searching for “theone”–incredibly difficult now that she has a choice of SEVERALspecies, walks of life/social classes, and cultures—and is theposter girl for “that” sort of dating service member, especiallynow that she’s encroaching 40 and her options are running out.

Onthe other hand, she’s ALSO quite insistent on helping counsel herfellows with “all this love and no one to give it to,”participating and supporting all manner of organizations,initiatives, and support groups that tell people you DON’T need alover to live a happy, fulfilling life, and whether you are single bychoice or because your Time just hasn’t come yet, it’s nothing tobe ashamed of.

(Orin the case of the latter, treated as not that much of an issue.)

Outsideof her love life, she frequently volunteers and helps the others withtheir vocations and careers, because who knows? Maybe she’ll meetthe “One” the old-fashioned way.

Aquatahas become a major organizer, producer, and athlete for UnderseaSports, straightening out the books and the logistics of making anAquabatics Awareness event/recruiting drive happen; helping sourceteams, athletes, and coaches to actually play the sport or performthe event; and sometimes, being the one putting on “lagoon goo”on her cheeks before she straps on a Shellshock helmet, and goes onto crash and smash with all the other players.

Shefrequently uses the obligatory tours to raise awareness and interestin all the various sports and activities Atlantica and all the otherwater-bound states have to offer, but unfortunately, Tourney is stillKing, and a lot of tourists are only really interested in getting herto take their picture.

Andbefore you ask, YES, it drives her crazy when people don’t puttheir trash in the proper receptacles, stick to the prescribed linesand areas for your own safety, and don’t exit the sea wagons in aneat, orderly line.

Aristadoesn’t actually stay in Atlantica for most of the year—finallyfinding the courage (and the means) to follow Ariel’s example,she’s exchanged her fins for feet, and goes about exploring Auradonand all its nooks and crannies, documenting her adventures in a vlog,bringing attention to out of the way villages, little-known-events,and all manner of small-time bands, of whom she oftentimes plays withas horn, or other brass-wind instrument.

She’sslowly losing her “by the rules” personality compared to all theothers, but she still treats jamming and freeform performances assomething incredibly daring, new, and more than a little frightening,but great fun!

Shetries to show off some of her adventures and talent with thetourists, but again, they’re there for Atlantica to make their ownmemories, not listen to hers.

Andrinaalso follows Arista’s and Ariel’s examples and explores thebig wide world above the sea, though her interest isn’t seeing whatmost people pass over and miss out on, it’s attending as manytheaters, comedy clubs, and bars with live performances that she can,the one uniting theme being that they have stand-up comedy, a Comedyfilm, or a play that is well-known for its laughs, like “Springtimefor Maleficent.”

It’sfor her entertainment, building up material, and “learning from thepros” as she’s trying to eventually break-out in professionalcomedy, and frequently uses the tours to crack a joke and see howTHAT works—scientifically speaking, Atlantican tourists are aconvenient but diverse and random sample.

She’sgimped by her need to have everything precisely scripted and hernervousness with improv or going off on a tangent, but however thenight ends, she knows that there’s someone out there who can pointher the way to some restaurant or takeout place that has somethingdelicious.

Interested in financially supporting my writing habit? Consider donating to my Patreon!

#descendants #disney #headcanon

8 notes · View notes

comicteaparty · 5 years

Text

March 7th, 2019 CTP Archive

The archive for the Comic Tea Party chat that occurred on March 7th, 2019, from 5PM - 7PM PST. The chat focused on 2 for Joy by Abi Watson.

Featured Comment:

Chat:

RebelVampire

COMIC TEA PARTY- THURSDAY BOOK CLUB START!

Good evening, everyone~! This week’s Thursday Book Club is officially beginning! Today we are discussing 2 for Joy by Abi Watson~! (https://tapas.io/series/2-for-joy)

Remember that Thursday discussions are completely freeform! However, every 30 minutes I will drop in OPTIONAL discussion questions in case you’d like a bit of a prompt. If you miss out on one of these prompts, you can find them pinned for the chat’s duration. Additionally, remember that while constructive criticism is allowed, our focus is fun and respectfully appreciating the comic. All that said, let’s begin!

QUESTION 1. What is your favorite scene in the comic so far and why?

i think at the moment that my fave scene is when art goes to the library. cause before the comic possibly toed the line about whether everything was conspiracy or coincidence. and thats the scene that says "nope conspiracy." i just also found it to be this really tense scene cause of the librarians talking about art like he was some super threat. which brave to making an activity like visiting library archives seem test. overall though, the part i like best is that it still leaves the question of what the one librarian guarding the archives wouldve done had art's rouse come to light

Superjustinbros

Ello~!

I have returned

RebelVampire

hey super~!

mathtans

I'm... kinda here for now. I did like the library scene, the librarian conspiracy was interesting.

Superjustinbros

https://tapas.io/episode/1159441

mathtans

I liked the cast moment there too, for the amusement value.

(Which arm was it? Whoa hoa...)

RebelVampire

yeah the cast moment was great, partly cause i was no expecting this random moment of humor to roll up

mathtans

As to my fave scene though, I think interestingly I'll need to go with the nametag thing. Because it was just kind of funny at the time, but had some significance later, with the gender change thing, and the not wanting to get him a new tag. Also explains (kind of) why he wears it upside-down.

Superjustinbros

It also gave me flashbacks to when I broke some fingers on one of my hands and had to go into a cast for about a month

back in middle school

mathtans

Ouch. I've never actually needed a cast for anything.

Also, maybe Tec is just waiting for the cast to heal before the fight, humm.

Superjustinbros

Yeah it was not pleasant. I'd go into detail about it more but this is a CTP

RebelVampire

yeah i really liked that on the side the nametag was made to be more relevant. it wasnt just some quirky character thing. which i mean the latter wouldve been fine, but i just like the element that these are characters who have been living their lives without art and the town didnt suddenly exist again just cause art showed up

https://tapas.io/episode/1121842 less a scene but i also really enjoy this page because of all the character reactions. like you got the whole circus of emotions going on and it conveys so much without needing any sort of dialogue

Superjustinbros

https://tapas.io/episode/1128546 and this one two pages later

mathtans

Also weird how Jack's name has dual significance.

Superjustinbros

"it means that makes a liar"

mathtans

I see what you mean there. (I'm not always good at picking up on artistic choices.)

RebelVampire

yeah. although that has gotta kind of suck. i mean i wouldnt want to find out a person i was named after was actually dead and i was just never told XD

Superjustinbros

https://tapas.io/episode/1296840 The latest bit also sparked my interests

RebelVampire

tbh, mike is probably just dumb/evil and not a liar. cause i severely raised an eyebrow to anyone who thinks they can cull birds from an area and theyll just never ever come back even for a short period of time

i really love art's dumb conspiracy journal

i am jealous and want one

Superjustinbros

yus

RebelVampire

but also someone needs to teach jack journalism does not actually involve journals XD

mathtans

Yeah, I don't think Mike's really got it out for anyone though. Maybe he's related to the librarians.

Art draws pretty well. He makes... art.

RebelVampire

an unfortunate nickname well suited to puns

Superjustinbros

"What did you name your son?" "Art"

"Is that really his name?" "No it's just a nickname he likes."

RebelVampire

but i really like how the journal shows art's thought processes and everything. like its a great way to build character without art smacking you with dialogue to put you in his head

Superjustinbros

lol

I never actually thought of that- to give a character a journal

and just have them jot down in it every once in a while

and show you what they write/doodle

mathtans

That's a good point. A little window into his view of the plot.

RebelVampire

QUESTION 2. One of the central features of the story is the vast conspiracy that seems to haunt Art’s hometown. Are the birds truly leading Art somewhere, or are they really just a coincidence? If the former, where are they leading Art to? Why were all the magpies culled and what does this have to do with murders and supposed cults? What was the one librarian scared of Art finding in the archives? Why is the other librarian willing to help Art? What does all this have to do with the forest and the various people who have gone missing in it? How do you think everything connects in general?

I think the birds are leading Art somewhere but im skeptical theyre actually birds. Cause conveniently nobody but Art sees them UNTIL Alice and Jack get involved. And then suddenly cause theyre part of the plot they can see them. So I kind of wonder if they arent birds but supernatural entities that look like birds

mathtans

I feel like that title "2 for joy" has something to it; I've never heard of the saying (rhyme?) before about the magpies, but there was a reference made. So turning it around, you need to have two people or the birds will get you.

Ohh, that's an interesting theory. I like it.

Maybe the missing people got turned into birds.

Superjustinbros

and then the birds haunt more people

and turn them into birds

it's how they spread

RebelVampire

thats an interesting idea. or more optimistically the birds are trying to lead art to a cure

mathtans

A cure for what though? He's not sick.

RebelVampire

actually if this was true itd explain why jack kind of got dragged in

one of those birds is his uncle

mathtans

Or a cure for the thing that turns the eyes white?

RebelVampire

i meant a cure for them

to be not birds

mathtans

Ohh, now I'm with you.

The librarians also used to be birds. That's why they're in on the conspiracy, they don't want to have to be birds again.

RebelVampire

the family secrets that cant be told are that art was patient 0 and really a ghost bird all along

on a more serious guess, maybe theyre leading art to ground zero though. like assuming there is supernatural stuff at work, when things like whats going on in the town happen, theres usually like an origin point. like a pentagram in the woods though probably not that.

mathtans

That's why they saved his life!

Superjustinbros

Good thinking.

mathtans

Maybe, could be something silver, what with the bird connection.

RebelVampire

arent magpies the ones who like shiny stuff?

mathtans

I think so? I don't know much about birds.

RebelVampire

google tells me yes but that this is a myth

and that scientifically them stealing the shiny things is not backed up by dedicated observation and testing

https://tenor.com/view/themoreyouknow-star-rainbowstreak-nbc-gif-4884642

which now leaves me torn cause i was gonna guess that theyre just leading art to their silver pile of treasure

mathtans

As Jack said, the true treasure was the friends they made along the way.

RebelVampire

ya know, given the title, that is probably all that matters

that through their quest theyre going to find joy

mathtans

And Joy will be the wife of that guy who was blamed for all the murders?

(Seriously though, it's interesting how deep the rabbit hole seems to go.)

Actually, now that I think of it, there was an X-Files reference too. Possibly just in the author's notes though.

RebelVampire

ya know

i would not be surprised if the wife's name did turn out to be joy

although id also find that kind of funny

mathtans

(off to crib)

RebelVampire

aside from birds though, im turning my attention to the archives. cause from the convo i gathered that besides other things, there were things with births and deaths art wasnt supposed to find? and given the one extra side page, i really wonder if it has to do with art's birth since hes adopted

(good luck)

RebelVampire

but maybe i misread the conversation. i mean maybe theyre just trying to cover up exactly how many people have gone missing in the forest. cause its too shameful or a high risk for crashing that small town tourism cash cow

or theyre trying to cover up the fact that the cult is still sort of active and something in the archives proves how deep the cult runs

mathtans

(back-ish) Yeah, I noticed the adoption thing and wondered briefly about it.

You think maybe the "murders" were just lots of missing people?

Superjustinbros

Yeah I wouldn't want that getting out inot the public

mathtans

A birb cult.

RebelVampire

QUESTION 3. In the recent pages, Jack and Art have decided they need to go into the forest and look around. What do you think will happen to the two while in the forest? Will they see more birds? Will the silver compass come into play? Do you think the two will be in danger considering the possessions that seem to have occurred to certain individuals? In regards to the conspiracy, what answers do you think the two might find directly in the forest? Lastly, do you think going into the forest will have other consequences? What if members of the town find out about their little expedition? What about Alice?

and it could be. that there are less murders than we think and everyone is just missing.

i do think the adoption thing is significant

Superjustinbros

more birds definitely

RebelVampire

i think what will happen in the forest is theyll get jumpscared a lot but then learn nothing. outside of the forest is spooky af. although i also think theyre gonna find something they dont think is significant until later and theyre like "le gasp signs of the missing ppl"

Superjustinbros

"forests are spooky"

the moral of the story

mathtans

(back-ish again) I wonder if going into the woods will cause a replay of the Hec stuff. Like Jack will have his eyes go white and try to beat up Art and then won't remember about it. Could put their relationship on the rocks a bit.

Or jumpscares with birds.

RebelVampire

tbh i actually assume if that were to happen alice would be the more likely possession target

like shell show up

scold

suddenly rolled back eyes

beat art up

mathtans

Ooooh. That'd definitely shake up the character dynamics. I wonder if the birds tried to talk to her first, but she didn't listen? Since she also left town for a while.

RebelVampire

maybe. although now im wondering how she and art both happen to coincientally be back in town. like we know kind of why art is there. but alice too seems a huge coincidence in a story where coincidences are actually conspiracies

mathtans

Hmmmm. Maybe she's not really there? Has anyone other than Art and Jack mentioned actually seeing Alice?

Maybe she's Jack's guardian angel or something in disguise.

RebelVampire

im trying

to recall a moment

i mean shes gone half the time and not able to interact with outside ppl

there was the one scene where theyre all eating together

but i dont remember if any outside person approached them

mathtans

Did Mike comment on her though? Because she only turned up when Art admitted to Jack that he was waiting for her.

(Is she a bird? Man, I can't tell if my conspiracy theories are totally crazy or not.)

RebelVampire

the only reference mike makes is later on when hes scolding jack and ask if its going to become another summer where he ignores customers to gossip with his "little friends"

so specifically plural

BUT

the context does not imply that there has to be multiple

more like the implication that more friends could show up even tho just the one is there

so it could go either or

mathtans

Indeeeed.

Oh, wait! The guy in the compass shop. He saw her, in the hat.

Mustache man... maybe he's in on it?

RebelVampire

darn it compass guy

mathtans

(Nice subtle detail in that scene by the way, him not recognizing Jack after the transition.)

RebelVampire

ruining our good alice isnt there theory

mathtans

Heh.

Alice and Art do prove that you can leave the town without just vanishing then.

RebelVampire

yes. until the town pulls you back

by crashing your car

i think jack and art going into the forest is going to attract unwanted town attention

i can hear that one librarian now going "i told you he was up to something!"

mathtans

They went swimming without incident though. As long as they play it off as camping or whatever, who would care.

RebelVampire

suspicious librarians

thats who would care

"They just went swimming who goes swimming that much they must be suspicious!"

mathtans

I wonder what the librarians do in their off hours.

Superjustinbros

sme tbh

RebelVampire

QUESTION 4. Among the conspiracies are a lot of emotional conflicts and changing relationships. Do you think Art and Jack’s flirting will go anywhere? Whether it does or not, how might their investigations and the revealing of certain secrets affect how they view each other? How might it change Art’s relationship with Alice given Alice is reluctant to buy into the conspiracies as much as Art or Jack? Also, how will learning more help or hurt Art’s ability to deal with Hec? Do you think Hec is in on the conspiracy or is Jack right and Hec just wants to fight? Lastly, why do you think Art was the one targeted by the birds, and how does Jack play into the ultimate roles that the supernatural events seem to have intended for them? How might Jack’s missing uncle come into play and change how Jack deals with the situation?

the nice librarian goes home and reads books. the mean one is obviously part of HOA and the neighborhood watch

mathtans

Related to the relationship stuff, it's nice how the gay angle was put in as a sidebar, just a statement of fact. I wonder a little bit if younger Art had a thing for Hec, which is partly why he sees the best in the guy.

Related to the bird stuff, the second appearance of the birds related to a baby. Not sure how that fits in.

Superjustinbros

i was surprised to see the gay comment, I'll admit

did Art drop that fact earlier on in the story?

mathtans

Yeah, when it was the four birds for Jack I think.

RebelVampire

yeah its pretty super early on

like not first page

but very early

Superjustinbros

aye

mathtans

Like maybe birth as the opposite of death? :/

RebelVampire

i worried it meant the baby was gonna die tbh XD

mathtans

Oooh, super serious.

RebelVampire

mostly cause so far the birds have an omen sort of tone and omens arent good

and they caused art to crash his car

soooo

Superjustinbros

and put him in a cast?

mathtans

But he was going to crash anyway, right?

RebelVampire

maybe? i mean art says the birds saved his life or something but that doesnt mean thats the objective fact of what happened

mathtans

Art and Jack seem destined to get together though, after the bit with Hec in the alley.

True. Wishful thinking?

RebelVampire

i do think in this case maybe

at the very least i dont think alice and jack are wrong in thinking some of this bird thing is about art kind of not coping with what happened

cause i def dont think art is dealing with it and that even though something is going on, hes also using it as a distraction

cause both can be true

maybe this comic is just the labyrinth and the birds are gonna spirit the baby away to turn it into a troll

mathtans

The baby is really Art. It's all time travel. He takes the baby back and gets himself adopted.

RebelVampire

so does that make the librarians the time police?

Superjustinbros

...That would be a pretty epic twist(edited)

mathtans

One of them is a grown up Jughead.

As to why Art was targeted, maybe Art has unfinished business in town.

RebelVampire

well id say hec is unfinished business. although maybe thats why. that art encountered the supernatural and lived to tell the tale and didnt disappear in the forest

so that proves he has magical supernatural immunity

mathtans

Oh, immunity, that's an interesting idea. Maybe it's because he was adopted and didn't grow up in town or something?

Maybe everyone has silver poisoning.

Superjustinbros

Oooooooooo

mathtans

Can that make your eyes go white?

RebelVampire

art is just the chosen one

idk

lets see

mathtans

I hope the Art and Jack thing works out. Art needs some grins in his life, and I gather the transition wasn't easy for Jack either.

RebelVampire

“Silver poisoning, medically termed argyria, causes ashen gray discoloration of the skin (and other tissues of the body).”

thats what the first result tells me

i think itll work out just cause its called 2 for joy and theyre the ones in all the banners

and they do seem to be mutually attracted to each other. although i do wonder if they solve the conspiracy if that will remain

mathtans

That's true... maybe the two of them will adopt a baby, whence the "2 for joy" relates to the birds too?

I suppose the specific species of bird is related too, but I don't know from specifics.

The real conspiracy, of course, is how that diner manages to have the best pancakes in town.

Superjustinbros

That'd be cute, just sayin

(or a young child)

RebelVampire

i liked the bit where jack was criticizing alice for making up ppl

but then art joins in

with an even more ridiculous chain

mathtans

Yeah, that helps to show the sibling angle too.

Superjustinbros

I guess since there's only a few minutes left, I'd like to take the time to say good luck to abi on getting this story worked on, it's looking great so far.

mathtans

Yeah, the characters are interesting along with the plot, like I don't think I've ever seen this sort of mix before.

Superjustinbros

Well said.

mathtans

Hope they bring pancakes into the woods to appease the birds.

RebelVampire

COMIC TEA PARTY- THURSDAY BOOK CLUB END!

Sadly, this wraps up this week’s Thursday Book Club chat for now. Thank you so much to everyone for reading and joining us! We want to give a special thank you to Abi Watson, as well, for making 2 for Joy. If you liked the comic, make sure to support Abi Watson’s efforts however you’re able to~!

Read and Comment: https://tapas.io/series/2-for-joy

Abi Watson’s Redbubble Shop: https://www.redbubble.com/people/abiwatson

Abi Watson’s Society 6 Shop: https://society6.com/abiwatsonillustration/s?q=new

Abi Watson’s Gumroad Shop: https://gumroad.com/abiwatson

Abi Watson’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/abiwatsonart?lang=en

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #book club #bookclub #webcomic book club #webcomic bookclub #comic tea party #ctp #2 for joy #abi watson

0 notes

whoinwhoville · 7 years

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Doctor Who (2005) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Lee McAvoy/Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Characters: Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Sylvia Noble Additional Tags: Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Fluff, it's so fluffy I'm gonna die, Crack, maybe? - Freeform, Wedding, wedding florist and photographer au, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, mean sylvia, rude sylvia, over-the-top sylvia, pre-romance ten x rose Series: Part 14 of I love AUs Summary:

Sylvia Noble: Mother-of-the-Bridezilla. But Donna, Rose, and Jonathan Smith are quite adept at standing up for themselves.

Response to this fic prompt: I’m the caterer and you’re the florist on a huge expensive wedding and we bond over what an awful person the mother of the bride is AU (with a few adjustments to the prompt).

“That dress does nothing for your figure. You look like a wedding cake topper. What do you need pockets for, anyway? Frosted coral lipstick? I don’t know why you even need a new dress. The one you wore to your first wedding was gorgeous.”

“Purple and lavender? You know I don’t wear purple. I simply won’t. It is the colour of mourning. But then again, I am in mourning over this marriage.” (sniff sniff)

“Cupcakes? Really Donna. I know money is tight, but that’s going too far.”

“This reception hall is in a very rough part of town. No one is going to dare to go to the reception! Afraid their cars will get nicked. Pick someplace else.”

“You can afford an open bar, but you are serving frozen starters from Tesco. You haven’t even hired a proper caterer.”

“You are going to need more fairy lights to brighten up this dismal reception hall. At least you found a location in a safe part of town. But I can’t see my hand in front of my—“

“I. Have. Had. ENOUGH! I don’t want your help. And I certainly don’t need it!“

“But darling, it’s only three months away! And I have so much to do!”

“I am taking care of everything, and am doing a bloody good job of it, too.”

oOo

“Donna Noble, you will not sign that contract. She has no experience! The flowers will be a disgrace. I will not have my garden club friends gossiping because you carried a bouquet of food-colouring-dyed pink carnations! If you choose Rosie’s Posie’s, I’m withdrawing my support of your marriage.”

“Your support? What do you mean by support? You’re not the one shelling out the money for my wedding! Lee and I are paying for it! And as for support, you supported Lance. Even after you found out that he was a two-timing, cheating arse! You got angry with me after he left me at the altar! Support my third foot.”

“Lance has ambition! He’s going places! I saw him at the market the other day. No ring on his finger, Donna. There’s still a chance. Call him. Apologise.”

“Apologise for what? For not inviting him to the reception?”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. You’re making the mistake of your life. Lee owns a fishing tackle shop. No one goes fishing anymore. Do you really think there is a future in tying flies?”

“Lee is a good man and we love each other, and I’m getting married whether you support me or not!”

Donna squinted at her mother, and with a toss of her glorious ginger hair, signed the florist’s contract, even adding a smiley-face at the end of her name.

Sylvia stood slowly. “Goodbye Donna.” She sniffed. “Come and see me sometime, maybe when you’ve decided to stop being so hurtful.” The blonde woman gathered her things, wiped an imaginary tear from her eye, and quietly left her daughter’s flat.

Rose Tyler, the forgotten third person in the room, cleared her throat. “Right. Um, thanks. We can go over the details when you’re ready. Why don’t you call me—“

“No. We’ll do it now, Rose. Your designs are exquisite. First thing I want to order: a food-colouring-dyed Carnation corsage for my mother-of-the-bridezilla.”

Rose’s eyes went wide, and then she snorted a laugh.

oOo

“I forbid you to hire that person, Donna Noble. That man is a farce! He isn’t even a professional photographer! He’s a professor! You’ll regret it every time you open your wedding album and all you see are 1970’s starbursts on the candle flames and out of focus pictures with half of your face cut off. And his idea of creativity is probably photoshopping you with angel wings in a field of stars, being he’s an astronomy teacher. What a useless degree that is. If you hire Professor Smyth, I’m withdrawing my support of your marriage.”

“Again with the support. Jonathan is brilliant. He’s a genius. He’s photographed the weddings of royalty!”

“Ha! Queen Victoria’s great-great grandniece twice removed doesn’t count as royalty. You’ve only chosen him because he’s your employer. He’s told you he’ll fire you if you don’t hire him, hasn’t he?”

“No! And I’m not hiring him. It’s his wedding gift.”

“Well, you’d be better off if he bought you towels.”

oOo

“So, what do you think, then?” Rose asked. “Is this what you were thinking of?”

“Rose, these designs are perfect! It’s like you can read my mind. And you’re sure you can do this for the contracted price?”

“Yeah. I have a great supplier. Now, it’s possible that I won’t be able to get the Lily of the Valley. Sometimes it’s scarce, but I have a backup plan. I’m going to force Paperwhite Narcissus. They’ll be gorgeous with the purple crocus and lavender hyacinth. But the purple and white tulips will be the centerpiece of your bouquet. Would you like any iris?”

“Whatever you come up with will be perfect.”

Rose blushed and bit her lip. “Thanks for giving me a chance, Donna, this being my first wedding job and all. Who recommended me?”

“My boss bought me an arrangement a while back. I remembered it.”

“What did it look like?”

“Yellow roses, daisies, and chrysanthemums in a yellow smiley-face mug.”

“I remember that order. The mug was delivered to my shop with instructions to make an arrangement that matched. That he had a friend that needed a cheer-up.”

Donna smiled wistfully. “That was right after the Lance… thing. And yeah, it did cheer me up. It’s my favourite mug.”

Rose gently squeezed Donna’s arm. “From what you’ve said, good riddance, yeah? Lee is just about perfect.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

oOo

“Anything special you’d like? Any particular shots?”

“I have a list of all of the standard group shots, but mainly we want to remember our day in a more casual way. Candids.”

“Good. That’s what I like to shoot best. Well, stars are my favourite thing to photograph, of course. How about a few pictures outside? There’s going to be a full moon that night.”

“Sounds perfect.”

oOo

Rose parked as close to the church as she could manage, but it was still several hundred feet away. Her boot, the back seat, and the front of her red VW Beetle were jam-packed with flowers. She wasn’t wearing her usual work clothes — jeans, trainers, and a t-shirt. She and Donna had struck up a friendship, and Donna had invited her to the wedding. Rose almost lost her balance as the heels of her precarious stilettos dug into the gravel of the church yard. “Shoulda brought trainers,” she grumbled as she picked up the first flat of arrangements — the boutonnieres and corsages.

“Oh! Let me help!” called a friendly voice.

“Thanks. I’m running a bit late. Got stuck behind a crash on the way and traffic was backed up for miles. How do you know Donna?”

“She’s my assistant. You know, I ordered flowers from you for Donna a while back.”

“Thanks for that. Donna hired me because of you. What’s your name again?”

“Jonathan Smyth.”

“Hello Jonathan. I’m Rose Tyler. Since you offered, I’m going to put you to work.”

oOo

“Donna, I take back everything I said about Rosie’s Posies. She did a lovely job. Now where’s my corsage.”

She presented her mother with a white box.

“Why’s this box so big?” Sylvia asked as she lifted the lid. “What in blazes is this abomination?”

“You did say you were expecting dyed carnations. Rose’s assistant left the flowers in the purple dye too long and they’re almost black. We’ll call it aubergine.”

“I refuse to wear this hideous thing! It’s six inches across! It’ll block my face!”

“No no no! You don’t pin it to your dress. It’s a wristlet! See?”

“It looks like a ruffled Frisbee. Ridiculous.” Sylvia sneered as she pinched the enormous corsage with her fingertips as if it were a dirty nappy.

“Go on then, put it on. I want to see how it looks. I designed it myself.” Donna grinned.

“No. I refuse.” Sylvia tipped her nose into the air.

“It’s my wedding, and you’ll wear the bloody wristlet.”

“I’m withdrawing my support.”

“Support or no support, it’s my wedding. Put the thing on.”

Sylvia hissed as she slipped the enormous floral accessory onto her wrist.

oOo

Jonathan hid outside of the doorway, trying to contain his laughter as he set the camera to slow burst, taking shot after shot. He heard someone else laughing behind him.

“Did Donna really ask for that flower thing for her mother?”

“Donna’s takin’ the mick. I have the real one. She’s gonna give it to her mum right before Sylvia’s ushered to her seat. Isn’t it hideous?”

He grinned at her. “I think it’s absolutely brilliant.” He made a funny little happy noise. “Has Sylvia been difficult to work with?”

“Difficult? There’s no word that describes how difficult. She’s the mother-of-the-bride version of a bridezilla.”

“She gave me a list of about 500 formal family photo configurations. Mother with daughter, mother in chair. Mother with bride and bride in chair. Father and mother with bride, bride in chair holding her flowers in her lap. And then without flowers in her lap. Mother with bride’s flowers. Bride sitting on the steps with bridesmaid’s flowers ‘pillowed’ around her feet. Pillowed. How do you pillow flowers. Wouldn’t be very comfortable to sleep on,” he whinged. “And don’t get me started on the cousins, aunts, uncles, step uncles, step aunts, half cousins, and then Lee’s family and all of those iterations.” He pinched the bridge his nose.

Rose picked at her already-chipped pink nail polish. “I’m done with the flowers. I could, I don’t know, help round up and arrange the people? You did help me set up the flowers, after all.”

“I’d love that. Thank you, Rose Tyler.”

oOo

Jonathan’s pointer finger was sore. It was ten pm, and the dancing was still going in full force, thanks to the unlimited drinks being pouring liberally by the bartender.

“Jonathan, I think you’ve taken enough photos,” Donna said kindly.

“Can never be too thorough. I don’t want you to miss a single moment.”

“Oh, believe me, I won’t forget one thing about this wedding.” She snorted a laugh. “Don’t know that my mum is ever going to forgive me for that corsage. It was pretty awful, wasn’t it?”

“Donna, it was perfect.”

“Ha! Serves her right, saying all of those awful things about you and Rose.” She took a sip of champagne. “She did like the real one though. Doubt she’ll ever forgive me.” Donna took another sip of champagne. “So, what do you think of Rose?”

“She’s very talented.”

“Bloody right, she is. Started that florist business all on her own. You know how much I loved those flowers you gave me. How’d you find her, anyway?”

“Yelp. Read the reviews. One review stood out, though. Can’t go wrong with the username Old-Man-With-a-Telescope.”

“Hold on. That’s Grandad’s email address. I set it up for him so he could email those star pictures he takes through his telescope. What a coincidence.”

“There are no coincidences, Donna Noble.”

“Come to think of it, he brought me a bouquet of flowers after Lance,” she mused. “Must’ve bought ‘em from Rose.”

Jonathan squinted and looked off in the distance. “His name is Wilf, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I knew I recognized him from somewhere. It’s been niggling at me all night. He’s been coming to my planetarium shows for years! Always asks the best questions! Emails me his pictures from that email address.”

“That seals it. You were destined to meet Rose. Now why don’t you go and ask her for a dance.”

“I think that is a brilliant idea.”

She yawned. “Oh, Lee is back from saying goodbye to his family. Time to head out. Please. No pictures. I want to sneak away. Would rather avoid another confrontation with Sylvia.” She snorted.

“That won’t do, Donna! You want to remember your clandestine getaway, don’t you?”

Donna pulled her friend into a hug. “Jonathan, thank you. For everything. For putting up with my mother, for the gift. For being a great friend. And for being a great boss.”

“Donna Noble. You are brilliant. Now go. I’ll create a diversion. See you in two weeks.”

“Two? I only scheduled help for one week.”

“I’ve already arranged a temp. And the break is paid.”

oOo

It was the last dance, and Jonathan and Rose were the only couple left. Her shoes were off, she was leaning on his shoulder, almost asleep. They weren’t really dancing so much as swaying in place to a slow song — Frank Sinatra singing The Way You Look Tonight. It wasn’t really a romantic moment — more a mutual sigh of relief.

“You really do have a way with flowers,” Jonathan complimented.

“I suppose I was destined to work with flowers, given my name and all.”

“You could do anything and be fantastic at it, I think. And speaking of destiny, how’s this… Donna’s grandfather, Wilf, bought Donna flowers from your shop after her fortuitous breakup with that wholly unacceptable Lance bloke. I wanted to buy her flowers, too, so I Yelped, and found your shop. I read a frankly glorious review — and it turns out it was written by Donna’s Grandad. So I sent Donna flowers, and she was so impressed that she hired you to do her wedding. And here I am. And here you are.”

“Mmmm hmmm. Here we are,” she said contentedly. Beginning of a beautiful friendship, I think. I think we should collaborate again.”

“Oh, I do believe that’ll happen sooner than you think.”

oOo

“Donna Noble-McAvoy! These pictures are completely unacceptable! How in the world did that amateur photographer think it was even remotely appropriate to include that florist in almost every single picture! And look at this album! It’s absolutely hideous! It’s for a five year old! My Little Pony…” She slammed the album shut. “I demand that you ask for your money back!”

Donna snorted a laugh. “Mother, you are just too easy. You really need to learn how to take a joke. Here.” She handed an elegant white leather album to her mother. “Here’s the real one.”

Sylvia opened the book with a disdainful sniff. But then her face softened. “Donna… You’re beautiful. Oh, my baby girl.” She pulled her daughter in a hug, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

#ten x rose #Lee x donna #wedding au #sylvia noble #crack #fluff #i wrote this #ficandchips #pre romance

41 notes · View notes

naireides · 7 years

Text

what’s the point of tragedy if i can’t kiss you through it?

(read the poem here)

freeform fic about these two crazy kids at the end of the world. it’s sappy and maybe a tiny bit angsty.

read on ao3

The end of the world occurs slowly and too fast all at once.

It jumped on them quick enough, barely giving them time to prepare, and now, when they’re all out of options and have resigned themselves that this is really it, it stops, Slowing, slinking, slithering. Like a cat playing with its prey in those final moments before it rips its head off.

The heat comes four days after the black rain, and he’s not sure which is worse.

They end up losing around eighteen people to the rain, and then several more are picked off by heatstroke. They don’t have enough drinkable water and they’re all dropping like flies. By the time they accept that this is it, the end is really here, they’ve lost forty three of their people while dozens more are symptomatic.

There are no more funerals. It’s hard to be poetic in the wake of death about people you knew when you’re burning bodies every morning and night.

Arkadia is grey and morose and as soon as there’s a glimmer of good enough weather, they leave, ferrying people across to Becca’s island in droves, a mass exodus. There’s nothing left for people to do, just sit and wait with their loved ones for the death wave.

Bellamy is amongst the last to leave, and it feels a bit like that day at the dropship. A failed trip to the ocean then, a successful one now.

The heat has started to creep back in and they run out of water before they hit the shore. He shrugs out of his jacket, has half the mind to shrug out of his shirt too, but the sun is stinging and it’s an honest to god toss up about whether perpetual stickiness or mild sunburn is worse. In the end he compromises by dribbling water over his head before boarding the boat that will take them away once and for all.

He only does the bare minimum of updating Kane on their status, instead feeling the weariness settle deep in his bones and letting it consume him. He only wakes up when the ride gets rough as they approach the dock.

He’s still half asleep, in a daze and everything feels like it’s underwater. He’s still trying to gather his bearings when a body crashes into him, almost sending them stumbling into the sand.

Bellamy always forgets just how small Clarke really is. She always makes herself known, her presence alone is enough to fill any room, but whenever he holds her like this, he realises. His arms cover the entire span of her back while her head slots neatly underneath his chin, and she must have taken a bath not too long ago because her hair is soft and clean.

Clarke Griffin is just a girl and sometimes even he forgets that.

“This is really happening,” she sniffs, lips brushing against his neck, “We’re all really going to die.”

Bellamy doesn’t know what to tell her and instead pulls her closer, screwing his eyes shut.

This is how they deal with the end of the world: by treating it as the most depressing party in all of fucking history.

During the day, people try to act fine. There’s access to clean water here, and the animals haven’t quite gone into hiding as yet. They’re clean and fed and rested and from an outsider’s point of view, it all seems fine.

And then it isn’t.

The house isn’t big enough to hold everyone, and they spill out onto the grounds living in tents. Some people have accepted their fate, some try to ignore it, some get drunk.

Bellamy sleeps in the house.

He didn’t plan too- he had a chem tent, and was fine roughing it outside, but Clarke, Clarke who hasn’t left his side since he got here, whose hand keeps brushing against his as they walk, shakes her head.

“You can share with me and Raven,” she says, resting her hand atop his. “There’s enough room.”

He blinks, staring down at her. “Clarke, I don’t know if-”

“Please,” she says, cutting him off. She’s looking up at him with wide beseeching eyes, head tilted, and how can any expect him to say no to this girl? “I just- If this really is the end I want to be close to you.”

And fuck, if he had doubts before, they’re certainly obliterated now.

Not for the first time he tastes those three little words on the back of his tongue. I love you seems far too insignificant for how he feels about her. How do you even tell someone who’s done so much for you, who’s brought you back from the brink more times than you count, how you feel about them? An I love you doesn’t seem to do it justice.

Instead, he swallows them back down, back to that little box he tries to keep them in. Bellamy has known that he has loved Clarke Griffin for a long time now, and one day that box will not be big enough to hold all his love. He used to think that one day, when they manage to sort themselves out, when they’re ready, it’ll all spill forth from his mouth, a never ending stream of ‘I love you’s, but now he’s not so sure.

“Alright,” he says, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, and lets her lead him up to the house.

Before he would have stopped in his steps to admire the grandiose of the place, but he is so tired. They both are, brought to their knees by the weight of the world on their shoulders.

“Go take a bath,” she tells him after they walk up to her room. She takes his pack and rifle from him, and then delicately rests his fraying Ark jacket over one of the arm chairs. “Go.”

He doesn’t even protest, stripping out of his sweaty t shirt as he walks towards the ensuite, and it’s quickly followed by his pants, both of which he leaves in a crumpled heap in the corner. There isn’t a door separating the ensuite from the bedroom; in fact the only thing that stands between them is the frosted glass of the shower which only vaguely warps things, but frankly, he doesn’t care as he steps under the spray.

It’s a lot warmer than he’s used to, but not uncomfortably so. It’s warm enough that he feels his muscles relaxing, and he takes his time, lathering up and scrubbing at his skin until there’s a dull flush beneath it. When he steps out, a thin towel knotted loosely around his waist, he finds a clean set of clothes folded on top of the toilet. Clarke must have sneaked in and put them there, his old blue shirt with the holes around the collar and a pair of soft pants. He doesn’t even think twice about the fact that she waltzed in here while he was in the shower as he pulls them on.

Outside, she’s sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, going through some papers. There’s a furrow between her brows that he aches to smooth over with his thumb, and she’s shrugged off her Henley, leaving her in a thin tank top.

For a moment, Bellamy just stares at her, imagining what it would be like if they had time. This could have been his reality, coming home to her curled up on their bed, and he wants it so bad that it aches.

“Thanks,” he says, breaking the moment and padding further into the room. “For the clothes I mean.”

Clarke’s eyes flicker up and she offers him a small smile. “C’mere,” she says, resting the papers haphazardly on the bedside table. “Raven practically lives in the lab. She’s not going to stop until she can save us.”

Her smile is brittle, and he knows how she feels. To give up now, even in the face of death, would break Raven more than anything ever could. If she wanted to spend her last days under the pretence that they could be saved, they will let her, just because it gives her some sort of peace.

“Let’s go to sleep,” she suggests, pushing back the covers for him to climb in beside her. It’s only mid afternoon but they are both tired. They are always tired and for once it seems that they might actually get some rest.

The bed is big enough for them to sprawl out without touching, but Clarke rolls into him anyway, tucking herself into his side. She is no longer the soft princess she was when they first came down, but a hardened warrior like the rest of them. Her skin is pockmarked with scars and he doesn’t realise that he’s tracing them until she flinches slightly as he runs his fingers over the silvery white scar that goes down her shoulder.

“Panther,” she says, and he nods, dropping his hand. She takes the opportunity to explore his own skin, his callouses and scars and everything in between.

He stops breathing when she touches the one above his lip, but she’s quick to move on, trailing her fingers down his arm until he hisses when she gets to the still raw acid burns on his forearms.

“Black rain,” he tells her, and watches as she lifts his wrist to press a dry kiss there.

It sends his heart into a gallop and he tries to school his expression into something neutral. Those words linger on his tongue again, and he fights them down.

Instead he sighs, fixing them until she half lay across his chest and presses a kiss to her temple. “Go to sleep Clarke.”

He slips into a dreamless sleep a few minutes after her breathing evens out, and when he wakes, night has fallen, the only light coming from the orange glow of the fireplace and the moonlight dripping through the open drapes.

Clarke is still fast asleep, drooling on his shirt, and it’s cute in a way that makes him smile.

It’s times like these, the quiet moments in between when they get the chance to breathe that he thinks about his love for her. All the fairytales he read as a child described it like this a gentle sort of thing that could make them float away. He didn’t expect to find love on the Ark, not in his circumstances, but he imagined that if he did, it would be this kind: pure and idealistic.

What he feels for Clarke Griffin is not that.

It’s also not quite that which is mentioned in myths either; that hot, all consuming, passionate affair that brings out the best and worst in equal parts.

What he feels for her is something else entirely, some mix of love and trust and devotion that absolutely terrifies him and thrills him at the same time.

Bellamy’s not sure how long he lies awake, just staring at the girl in his arms, but soon she starts to stir and he watches as she comes alive.

“Hey,” he says, smiling when she blearily blinks awake.

“Bellamy,” she sighs, cuddling closer, and there’s a ghost of touch against his collarbone that might be her lips, but he can’t be sure.

They don’t say anything for a while, the only sound to be heard is their soft breathing, but soon Clarke shifts out of his hold, angling her body so that she can see him properly.

“Are you scared?” she asks, voice small.

He takes a minute to contemplate the question before shaking his head. “No.” And then, after he reaches out to brush away a lock of hair from her face, “Are you?”

“A little bit,” she admits. “I don’t like not knowing things.”

“Not knowing things?”

“After we die,” she elaborates, “No one knows for sure what happens.”

It almost makes him laugh; here they are counting down until the last seconds and Clarke is out here asking the philosophical questions. It makes his heart burst with fondness.

On the Ark, they didn’t have any fixed sort of religion. Most of the original people believed in science more than anything else, but there were still a few different texts stored on the tablets. After a moment of worrying his lip he says, “Some Romans believed in reincarnation. A lot of people believed in that actually.”

“Do you?” she asks, inching closer to him.

Bellamy flashes her a wry smile. “You have to admit, it sounds way better than eternal damnation amongst the flames of hellfire.” She snorts out a laugh. “Of course, it does depend on what you do in this life.”

“This life is a mess,” she whispers, and he ducks his head letting it rest against her forehead.

“Yeah. I know. But maybe our souls will pay for that in the next life, and then in the one after that we might have absolution,” he says, running his knuckles against her cheekbone. He always gets a little mind drunk being around Clarke like this, so close that he can practically taste her, and she doesn’t help matters when she moves even closer, noses bumping.

“Leaving the mess for someone else to deal with, huh?” she asks, voice sounding huskier than normal, and her eyelashes brush against his skin when she lets her eyes flick down to look at his lips for half a second.

“It’s still you,” he murmurs, and their mouths are impossibly close to each others right now. “It’ll always still be you.”

Their lips stop just shy of brushing against each other’s and the universe itself holds its breath.

In the end, Clarke ends up turning her head just an infinitesimal amount, kissing him on the cheek and letting her lips linger. “When we die, I hope my soul finds you again, Bellamy Blake.”

She ends up tucking herself under his arm once more, and he links their fingers together. “And I you, Clarke Griffin,” he murmurs, before letting the pull of sleep drag him under once more.

In the morning, when a yellowish haze has dawned upon them, making his skin feel too tight, too itchy to the point where he’s scratching himself raw, Clarke turns in bed and kisses him.

It’s not a poetic sort of kiss, the kind that a first kiss should be.

No, it’s messy and wet and he feels her bottom lip tremble when he sucks on it. Their teeth clack, and he tastes blood, not sure if it’s his or hers, and he’s pretty certain she accidentally licks his chin at one point, but it feels like a fitting kiss for them.

Because they are not pretty and perfect and neither is their love. Their love is bitter and war-torn, leaving ash and dust in its wake. Their love has cleaved its way through their chests, leaving bloodied fingerprints on their hearts and breath stuttering in their lungs. Their love is not the gentle kind that people write about in books, but the one whispered about only in stories of heroes with bloody teeth and more bodies in their pasts than breaths taken.

And when Clarke pulls back, gasping and shivering, her arms tightening around his neck, Bellamy just draws her in close, dropping a kiss on the crown of her head and letting his tears mingle with hers. Because their love is not perfect and will never be perfect, but it is theirs, and that’s all that matters.

#bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #my writing #nai did a thing

150 notes · View notes