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themaribatpit · 3 years

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Jasonette July Day 9: Pixie

Written by: The Maribat Pit @jasonette-july-event

Prompt: Pixie

Rated: T

(By popular demand, a slight continuation of Game On @aespades, @certainmuffinbagelcalzone.)

A/n: Edits have been made because I noticed the paragraph errors AFTER posting this.

Marinette was really starting to miss the days of working with Chat Noir at that moment, and that was saying something. “Bugaboo” and “My Lady” were starting to feel more tolerable when she wasn’t being called that every second of the day. Being called “Pixie” regardless if she was Ladybug or Marinette, was really starting to get old, fast. For reasons that she could not understand, that’s what Jason insisted on calling her. Sure, she was a lot smaller compared to him, but that coupled with needing to hang back and let Red Hood and Arsenal deal out the heavier hits was starting to get on her nerves. She was just as experienced as them, she had a mentor just like they did, and had been saving lives for just as long as they had. Ever since she had joined them, she thought that she would be fighting alongside a team again. Now she was either supporting them or using her sewing skills to add improvements to their suits. She was in good hands, some might say hands that were a little too good. All this frustrated her to no end because she liked Jason, she would have thought that someone who had been a vigilante from a young age would understand what it felt like to be constantly underestimated.

“Unbelievable,” she snapped one night as she came home from another mission. She pulled off her pink flats and threw them across the room as she entered her apartment. She didn’t even get the chance to use her Miraculous, she was effectively closely guarded bait on that last mission. She slumped on the bed in frustration and Tikki hovered over to her, her antenna drooping in concern. “Some days I want to wipe that smile off of that stupid face, just to prove I can.” Marinette grumbled into her pillow. She didn’t hate Jason, she knew that there was some good in him. Roy was the more optimistic and cheerful of the duo, like Jason, he had also been mentored by a more experienced hero. Jason was a lot more reserved and cynical by comparison, though he wasn’t a complete Ice Prince like his brother Damian.

“Maybe it’s because they’ve been doing this for a little bit longer.” Tikki suggested, after Marinette complained about it for the umpteenth time.

“Batgirl and Black Bat are only a few years younger than me,” she reminded her, “and there’s no doubt that they could hold their own in a fight. No one gives them stupid nicknames, just shortened versions of their real names out of costume.” Tikki awkwardly scratched the back of her head. “I bet you that he barely remembers what my real name is.” Marinette was getting increasingly furious at the thought “it’s always ‘Pixie this’ and ‘Pixie that’. I know I’m shorter than him, but I have taken on giant robot dolls, literal monsters, and I once rode a dragon!” Marinette yelled.

Marinette throws a pillow at Tikki, only for it to phase through her. “What does he think I do as Ladybug? Create Christmas presents with my Lucky Charm?!”

At this very unfortunate moment Jason happened to return back to their apartment with Roy in tow. “What’s got you riled up, Pixie Pop?” Jason quipped after seeing the frustrated look on her face. This was the last straw for Marinette, “Stop calling me that! Does it please you to demean me? Does it bring you joy to fucking bully me day in and day out?” Jason and Roy take a step back from Marinette’s outburst. Marinette continues “I have kept Paris safe ever since I was 13, I didn’t have the World's Greatest Detective or a Robin Hood cosplayer helping me. It’s always you two off saving the day while I’m the distraction. Do I have to remind you that I’ve beaten Robin and Red Robin?”

“So have we, right Roy?” Jason says look backwards to Roy. Roy meanwhile was slowly walking backwards with his arms up in surrender.

“Don’t drag me into this please.” Roy pleaded.

Marinette continued her rant, “So why do you keep calling me Pixie Pop like I'm some pet or stuffed animal?” She storms up to Jason and pulls him down to her height by the collar.

Roy sensed the tension and wanted absolutely no part in making it worse, “You know what? I’m gonna go get us some shawarma.”

Jason looked over at Roy “Really, Roy?” A slight scowl made it clear he knew Roy was essentially leaving him to face Marinette’s wrath.

“All I know is that they are open at four in the morning and I’m hungry, so I’ll be right back.” Roy said, and he left the room. Just as he thought Roy was out of earshot, Jason heard sprinting down the hallway. Roy had abandoned him to face the burning blue fire in Marinette’s eyes.

Marinette let go of him, she didn’t need them, she had made that absolutely clear.

“I’m done, I don’t expect you to understand what it’s like to be underestimated all of the time.” she muttered harshly, “to always be kept at arm's length, because no one trusts you to do anything right.”

Marinette had no idea just how deep her words cut him, and Jason couldn’t really blame her. As far as she knew, compared to his brothers, he might as well just be ‘the one with the guns and leather jackets’. He hadn’t really told her about what had happened all those years ago, he didn’t even like to think about it himself. Roy was one of the few people who understood what he’d been through. It was true that both of them started out as sidekicks, maybe the red in their costumes helped them stand out from their mentor’s shadows. Their time as young crime fighters had left their scars. They were blindsided when they found someone who had been a heroine since she was 13, and took to it with the same determination they had when they were younger, more innocent, more naïve.

As Marinette flitted around the room, gathering her things, every nerve in Jason’s body was screaming at him to stop her. He reached out and grabbed her by the arm, trying not to think about just how small it felt around his hand. “Look, I’m sorry,” he began. What could he say to her? That he knew exactly what that felt like? That the last thing they wanted was for her to end up like them? That every hit they took in a fight was one that she wouldn’t have to, so that she wouldn’t turn out broken like they were? The problem was she didn’t see them as broken, she saw them treating her like glass. If she was put through the same ordeal, Jason had no idea what he would do. If she shattered just like they did, then in a way, they would have failed her. If she came out still whole, still brimming with light, then what did that say about them?

Marinette pulled her arm away, “I’ll show you, then you’ll be sorry” she told him bitterly. With her backpack in hand and shoes on her feet, she pushed past him and walked out the door.

Jason remains staring at the open door, regretting how he had treated her. He grew fond of her during their time together as ‘Red Arse Bug’. She had a cute face, cute voice and she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. “Stupid, stupid” he says to himself, facepalm at each syllable. Even with the now hostile relationship with Marinette, he knew he had to follow her. He had to stop her from making the same mistakes he did, so that she would not become like him. He put on his helmet and left to search for clues as to where Marinette would go and what she would do.

Marinette wandered through Gotham city, unsure what to do now that she stormed out of the apartment she shared with Jason and Roy. She felt like everyone belittled her, Selena did, and now so did Jason. She needed to do something eye-catching, to prove to everyone that she didn’t need their help.

As she wanders past the Iceberg Lounge, she gets a spark of inspiration. If she could take down the Penguin single-handedly, nobody in Gotham would doubt her ever again. With unyielding determination she calls out “Spots On” and turns to Ladybug, ready to take on one of the cruelest crime lords in all of Gotham. Ladybug walks up to the front door and kicks it down, sending the door flying and knocking any unfortunate goons behind it. Penguin’s gang whipped out their guns, tire irons, pipes and anything that could count as a weapon and were now charging in to stop the intruder.

Marinette swings her yo-yo to wrap around one of the goon’s ankles, before swinging him around crashing him into several others. A guard points his rifle behind Ladybug, she spins around, sending her yo-yo towards the gun and pulling it from his hands. As the guards begin to group up together in an attempt to minimise the effectiveness of her yo-yo, Marinette looks up and begins to smirk. She flings her yo-yo upwards and hooks it onto a chandelier. She yanks it down, sending the chandelier crashing onto the unsuspecting guards.

Marinette dusts her hands and proceeds to walk through into the main hall. She proceeds to kick down that door too, she is then greeted by The Penguin surrounded by his gang. “I’m taking you down Cobblepot.” She shouts, swinging her yo-yo as if it was a lasso, preparing for a fight.

The Penguin stands up from the seat of his large chair. “What are all you idiots waiting for?” He shouts all around him. He points his umbrella at Ladybug, and begins shooting his umbrella gun. “Get her!” The penguin roars, at this cue every gangster charges at Ladybug.

Marinette gracefully dodges and weaves around Penguin’s army, knocking each one out one by one. Until only The Penguin remains, she wraps her yo-yo around his umbrella, easily disarming one of Gotham’s most wanted. She walks towards The Penguin, slowly unravelling her yo-yo in anticipation of tying him up and sending him to Arkham Asylum.

The Penguin takes out a little remote control from his suit pocket, “It's not over yet.” he snarls and pushes a button. At that moment the entire building shakes.

“Born on a Monday” a voice groaned, followed by another loud thud. “Christened on a Tuesday.” the same voice groaned. Then a giant hand shoots up from beneath the floor, “SOLOMON GRUNDY” roared the giant as it emerged from the floor.

Red Hood and Arsenal had been watching the fight from a careful distance outside the Iceberg Lounge. “Well, she’s managed to take on Penguins goons just fine,” Arsenal observed through the small pair of binoculars, “she’s certainly had plenty of time to get very creative with that yo-yo”.

Red Hood’s hand was still itching to reach for one of his pistols, ready to jump in at the first sign of trouble. “By the way, how was your shawarma?” he asked sarcastically.

Arsenal looked over at him, raising an eyebrow “Hey, I’m not the one who said the one thing that just made her angrier, you were on your own there.”

“Nice to know you had my back.” he grumbled.

“Oh I do in a fight, you just decided to be an ass and poke the angry girl with a stick.” Arsenal pointed out.

Their banter was interrupted by an earth shattering thud, following a loud groan “Born on a Monday.” At that moment their blood ran cold. Red Hood and Arsenal rushed towards the Iceberg Lounge. Both worried for Ladybug and aware of what comes after that dreadful nursery rhyme.

“What are you two doing here? I can handle this.” growled Ladybug as Red Hood and Arsenal arrived.

Before either Red Hood or Arsenal could answer, they were interrupted by Solomon Grundy smashing the ground where Ladybug was standing. Ladybug gracefully dodged the punch, grappling onto a ceiling lamp to swing towards Grundy with a kick.

The giant grabbed Ladybug while she was mid-air and threw her towards her partners. Red Hood catches her, holding her tightly as the two fly across the room. He shields her from the shock, taking the brunt of the impact as they crash into the wall.

Red Hood groans “You okay?” Ladybug looks up to see she was relatively unharmed, but Red Hood had taken the brunt of the throw. Concern visible on her face as she sees Red Hood’s damaged helmet, and the bruised and bloodied face beneath.

Their quiet moment together was interrupted by Arsenal's cries for help. Every arrow he had in his quiver wasn’t making a dent in Solomon Grundy. Ladybug decides to cast Lucky Charm in desperation, and swings her yo-yo up. The ladybugs converge to form...a polka-dotted stick of dynamite.

“Arsenal!” She called. “Tie this to the end of an arrow, Red Hood and I will keep it busy.” She tosses the dynamite to Arsenal and tells Red Hood to tie Grundy down.

Ladybug using her yo-yo grabs on to Solomon Grundy’s left arm while Red Hood uses his grappling hook to hold on to his right arm. Leaving Grundy exposed and immobile, giving Arsenal the opportunity for a clear unobstructed target.

Arsenal draws and aims the special Lucky Charm Explosive Arrow. The giant zombie growls “Arrow Boy no hurt Grundy.”

“Arrow Boy yes hurt Grundy” quipped Arsenal, before releasing the arrow causing a thunderous explosion into Solomon Grundy’s face. The giant slumps, Ladybug and Red Hood quickly release their hold and watch its body fall back into the hole in which it came from.

Solomon Grundy’s body lays motionless in the basement of the Iceberg Lounge as the three peer over the hole in the ground, “Let’s get outta here before the GCPD or worse, Batman arrive” Red Hood points to the front door, and the three of them leave the lounge to head back to their apartment.

As the three arrive home, they each find a nice comfortable spot to collapse onto. Jason claimed the sofa, slumped down Roy in the middle of the living room floor and Marinette sat at the dining table. “I vote for a week off.” groaned Roy.

“I second that motion” agreed Jason.

“I still have design work to do.” Marinette told them, not really looking at either of them at that moment. She was torn between appreciating their help, and frustrated that she hadn’t been able to handle the situation herself like she thought.

“Still that was one hell of a fight, and hey, you still managed to take on a squad of goons by yourself.” Roy said, “I’m so proud” he said dramatically pretending to wipe away a happy tear.

He nudged Jason in the leg, “um, yeah, good work” he said awkwardly, slightly lost in thought. Marinette smiled slightly, before turning her attention back to her little fairy friend perched on the table.

“So does this mean Red Arse Bug is back together?” Roy asked enthusiastically, Marinette wasn’t really paying attention.

The name still needed work, for one thing. For once Marinette felt like her powers were being used in harmony with their abilities, but she wasn’t sure if it was a feeling that she should get used to. Marinette could still vividly remember seeing Jason’s bruised and bloodied face beneath his helmet. Jason stood up and walked over to the fridge, looking for ice to dull the swelling on his face.

“Not with that name,” Jason grumbled, not entirely sure if Marinette was willing to stay after their argument. Someday, somehow, he would tell her the full story of what happened to him. Right now, that was a whole Pandora’s Box that he just wasn’t prepared to open. Nestled at the bottom of that box was hope, a hope that no one else would meet that same fate.

“...Lucky Shot?” Marinette suggested as she carried Tikki over to the sofa and sat down. Both Jason and Roy looked up, it made some sense, seeing as they both used projectiles and she had her lucky charms. Jason tentatively made his way back to the sofa, ice pack in hand.

“Sounds better than ‘Red Arse Bug’.” Jason remarked, as he sat back down.

“Well, let’s see if our little adventure made the news” Roy said, as he reached for the TV remote. Jason tuned out Vicki Vale’s voice as she reported on the fight that took place at the Iceberg Lounge.

As Roy slept at their feet, Jason knew if they were going to continue working together as a team, they couldn’t keep her in the dark any longer.

“Hey Marinette.” Jason speaks softly. Marinette's ears perk in surprise, hearing speak her name for the first time. “I’m sorry, for what I said and how we treated you. You’re right.” He gestures to the sleeping Roy on the floor, “Both of us started out as sidekicks, we both grew up in the shadows of Batman and Green Arrow. Both old men with impossibly high standards, everything we did was never enough.” Marinette listened intently as she shuffled closer to him on the sofa. “We’ve both been to hell and back, Marinette. Literally in my case.” he explained, Marinette glanced down at Tikki for a moment, as if silently asking if her magic was somehow involved in this. “But always remember, we have each other’s backs, just like The Three Musketeers.” Jason told her, Marinette giggles at his literary reference.

“Roy’s Porthos, you’re Aramis, I guess that makes me D’Artagnan.” Marinette chimes. Jason loved to see that hopeful smile on her face. What scared him the most was the idea that something or someone would try and take that away from her. They couldn’t keep treating her like glass, and they couldn’t keep treating her like a sidekick if they wanted to keep her from making their mistakes. They were all going to fight like hell to make sure this world didn’t break her the way it broke them. Marinette leaned in close and rested her head on his shoulder. He felt her calm even breathing, fanning his neck as she slept peacefully at his side.

#jasonette #jasonettejuly2021 #maribat #ml x dc

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dracula-in-purple-story · 3 years

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Trick and Treat

The benefits of being underground heroes means no one would recognise you. A fact that three certain heroes (plus a sentient quirk) exploit it mercilessly.

Halloween. An event where people of all kinds get to excuse themselves for pranks and indulged themselves with tooth-rotting candy. It’s also a certain event where two gothic-theme heroes are free to cursed their mothers for bringing them to life far too soon or far too late.

“That’s not a reason to cursed my in-laws, Fumi, Shi.” Shoji Mezou huffed before turning two of his appendages to mouths as to pecked his gloomy husbands. Shoji-Tokoyami Fumikage, who draped himself with a dark cloak and held a handmade scythe, fumed pettily alongside with Shoji-Kuroiro Shihai, who decided to wrapped themselves an equally as black bandages.

“Mezou love, I didn’t agree to marry you to hear you stand in defence for our mothers who let us down for the first time in the beginning of our lives.”

“Fumi’s right in a way. If only they could at least put in more effort on giving birth before the sacred event had ended-”

“Or wait a bit more longer-”

“Okay, guys. I kinda didn’t agree to waste my day off on listening to your brooding. So, could we get moving?” Ojiro Tooru wiggled around in her plain-white cloth while exaggerated her frustration, earning some laughs among her husbands.

“Take care and have fun, Ruru,” Mashirao softly spoke as he setting up the makeshift pillow fort around Hitoshi. The Ojiro husbands decided to spend their rare day off to watch horror marathon with the main Shoji patriarch.

The invisible lady just giggled before dragging off the other Shoji husbands for their play dates. Mezou waved them off, even blew the sentient quirk a kiss back, before settling down besides the pillow fort.

“Five thousand yens they come back with more candies than they are allow to have.”

“Six thousand.”

“Bet.”

“Toshi! Mezou!”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Any gummy packets? All I got is candy corns.” the boy with four arms and dressed as Red Riot grimaced.

“Nope, I only got two packets of strawberry marshmallows and some Miruko-branded carrot candies, Red Riot Junior. What about you, Deku Junior?” the green-skinned girl dressed as Shemage quietly answered before glancing at the bulking boy with scales that dressed as the Symbol of Hope.

He smirked before lifting up his bucket, making the other kids jaw dropped. In there, three huge packets of Bakusquad-branded fruity gummies, five king-sized Fatgum-branded chocolate bars, two swirly red and white lollipops, and a box of bite-sized candy bars themed after Pre-Debut UA Class A.

“Impressive, huh?”

“No jokes, Ken- I mean, Deku Junior! How?!” the Red Riot ‘Junior’ tried to reach out before getting his hand slapped by the now-sneering boy.

“Don’t touch it! Anyways, I just roamed around the neighbourhood that filled with old farts who got too much money to spend. One glance at my mega awesome costume then they throwing me prizes after prizes!” The scaly boy exclaimed proudly as he showed off his goods, “Wish you have this amazing influence than some two-bits characters you two decided to dressed as!”

“You got some nerves insulting the chivalrous hero and the mushroom heroine, kid.” All three kids quickly turned towards the voice down the alley. Seeing that it’s someone who decided that draping a white blanket is a good enough costume, the boy scoffed rudely.

“What, blanket girlie, you think you have the rights to tell me off when you have a lame ass costume?” “Wrong, it’s an awesome costume!” the blanket girlie huffed out her chest proudly, “You just didn’t see what is under these ghost sheets.”

“Ghost sheets?” the green girl snickered, “Yeah, right.”

“Why don’t we check it out, eh?” the four-arms boy grinned at the Deku cosplayer, who smirked back as he reached out to pull the sheets. As he did so, the kids paled. There is... nothing under the sheet. Not even the girl who is supposed to be draped over.

Suddenly, eerie radio screeches can be heard behind the ghost(?). Two little lights are flashing red at where the head are supposed to be located. The lackeys, scared out of their wits, dropped their buckets as they ran away, leaving the leader behind.

“You took a look under my sheet, and now...” the ghost(?) floated even higher, “YOU HAVE BEEN CURSED! MUAHAHAHA!”

“AAAAA!” the scaly brute dashed off immediately after throwing his bucket at the ghost(?). As the boy disappeared down the street, Tooru immediately emptied out the buckets into her Invisible Bag, which is almost filled to the brimmed with her delicious loots. Hearing another group of little trick-or-treaters coming in her way, she immediately set into her position.

~~~~~~~~~~

This is just plain stupid. This horror story telling is too repetitive. The dead girl in the toilet. The spooky piano that plays on its own. The suicide forest. Sure they can scared and spooked Hanako at first but listening to these stories over and over again seems to lose its charm.

Her peers didn’t seem to think so. Sitting in a badly formed circle in the middle of an empty park with an electric candle right in the middle of the said circle. Some third-rated spooky music supposedly to put people in the mood to get scared.

“... and there she sat, drinking the boy’s blood like a drug!”

“You sure this is a true story? Sounds fake.”

“Totes not! Search ‘blood drinking girl’, man!”

Even if it’s a true story, Hanako doubt the legality of the story. If this T.H. girl supposedly love this guy, she should kill those girls instead of the boy. Eh, she shouldn’t question it.

“Sooooo, who’s next?”

“Can I have a turn?”

“Sure!”

A husky voice chuckled, making the horror-numb girl trembled. That was new to her, not one of her peers sound like that. Even her seat partners shivered too.

“Let’s see, anyone ever heard of a certain narcissistic man who killed anyone who said he’s ugly?”

Oh, this is new. Perhaps her peers didn’t disappoint her yet. After affirmation, the rasping voice continued. Due to the light is too dimmed, she was unable to see who’s telling the tale with such voice.

“There was once a man, with a face no one could ever compare to. His visual is second to none. Women praised him, loved him, worshipped him. Men hated him, cursed him, and some even fell for him.”

Hanako lighted up. A total original story! She listened with rapt attention, ignoring how her horny peers groaned and moaned at the suggestively rough voice.

“One unfortunate event is all it took for people to turned away from the man. An arson planned by envious men who couldn’t take it anymore, seeing their supposedly lawful spouses dreamed and loved a man that isn’t them. How envy drove them mad. The damage is dealt. His entire body is burnt to crisps and yet, he lived.”

The music stopped. Before the person in charge of it could fix it, it suddenly played an ominous song that she had never heard before. She didn’t know that the harsh-sounding peer have good taste in music.

“Truly unfortunate it is. The once handsome man lost all his supporters in one whole swoop. His haters jeered and hurling faux-pity at him. He couldn’t take it anymore. Wrapped in his measly black-burnt bandages, he asked each and every single one of the people, ‘Am I handsome? Am I gorgeous?’. People jabbed jokes at him before they get stabbed to death.”

Hanako is curling into her jacket as the air getting chilly. Weird, as inattentive as she was, no one have a quirk related to wind. Now she think about it, not even one of them have a husky voice, even the her male peers are just getting their puberty hit on them.

“One by one, they dropped to their death. Even children and the senile were not spared. The man went mad with his vanity spiralled out. He asked, he cried, he stabbed. Then, he came onto a group of teens who sat around in a circle telling stories after stories. Can I ask?”

The girl suddenly felt dread coursed over her body. She thinks some of her peers piss themselves. Before anyone could react, the electrical candle went off. Hanako quickly reached out to turned it on and, lo and behold, a man wrapped in black-burnt bandages stood in the middle of the circle.

“Am I handsome?” the man who owned said husky voice gleamed at them with flashing black eyes, “Am I... gorgeous?”

Screams could be heard throughout the neighbourhood. When people found the source of said scream, teens would either huddled up or straight up fainted. The only thing missing among them are the candies they collected. Hanako might cried a bit, but whoever that man is, he earned himself a fan.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Happy Halloween!”

Waving off the kids, Mrs Gokudera beamed at her almost empty candy-bowl. Ever since her grandkids started their high schools, they almost never visit her in this lonely home, which makes this holiday truly joyful. Just as she was about to filled the candy-bowl with her homemade striped candy balls, her doorbell rang. Sighing blissfully, she opened up the door.

Instead of little children, few masked people appeared the other side of the door. Mrs Gokudera usually pleased to see that other people enjoyed the good old trick-or-treating but her quirk, Intentions, alerted her as she saw them with dangerously black aura.

“Heya, old lady. Trick or-”

“Definitely trick, imbeciles.”

Interrupting the one who started to sprouted blades out of their arms, the group of masked people turned towards the other side. Mrs Gokudera couldn’t see who it was as the malicious people blocked her sights but she saw a white aura coming out from that person. Knowing she was in good hands, she immediately slammed her door and dialled the police. As she dare peeked out of the window, she gawked at a hooded figure fighting against people with an obviously fake scythe and a manifested shadow(?) that seems to basked in the chaos.

When the police arrived, the fight is over. The hooded figure and his shadow companion came out unscathed but his prop is broken. Sensing his frustration through a grey aura, Mrs Gokudera beckoned the bird-headed figure, who seems to finished his statement to the police.

“Hello, dearie. You okay?”

“Don’t worry, madam. We are perfectly fine. Although we had to cut short our fun due to this unholy festive spirits that decided to bother you.” the hooded figure solemnly nodded.

“Oh dear. Sorry to cause you trouble.”

The shadow companion seems to beamed at her loudly, “Don’t worry, lady! We are heroes! This is nothing!”

Ah, that explains why the police didn’t bother him for vigilantism. Clearing her thoughts up, she thanked him by giving most of her stashes. It’s really funny seeing how the bird-headed hero humbly accepted while the shadow just cackled in delight as they dumped the wrapped candy balls into their goody bags.

~~~~~~~~~~

“We are back, hubbies!”

“Welcome ba- why are there ten gigantic bags? Did you guys steal them?”

The three trick-or-treaters sheepishly chuckled as they got stared down by the tail hero. Behind Mashirao, Mezou handed a few paper money to Hitoshi, who tried to snickered quietly before got stared down by his disappointed husband too.

#Boku no Hero Academia #BNHA #Shoji Mezo #Tokoyami Fumikage #Hagakure Tooru #Ojiro Mashirao #Shinso Hitoshi #Kuroiro Shihai #Shotoko #Shitoko #Shokuro #Shotokokuro #Shinoji #Ojitooru #Shintooru #Shinojitooru #draculainpurple

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lirusstories · 4 years

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Run Boy Run- Chapter One: A Safe Place

(Word Count: 5,301)

A/N: FUCKIN FINALLY

Anti got into another fight with Jackie today. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t mean to hurt Chase. The dad just snuck up on him and he just glitched. It wasn’t like Anti knew he wasn’t a threat, he had no idea Chase was even there! He just glitched and accidentally burned him. It wasn’t even that bad, Marvin fixed him up pretty quickly anyway. But apparently that wasn’t good enough for Jackie, he still yelled at Anti and thankfully only managed to get a single shove in before JJ jumped between them. Anti took that distraction to quickly slip from the kitchen and run up to his room, grab the hoodie he nicked from Marvin’s room a while back, it used to be a cloak until he put it on.

It has a glamour on it that works best when the hood is up, but thankfully when it’s down he can just pass for a cosplayer. Anyway, Anti threw on the hoodie, grabbed his phone and quickly glitched out as fast as he could through his laptop, which is how he is here now. He’s been going here for the past few weeks after finding it by accident. Well more like he was drawn to it and after a really bad fight with Jackie he finally decided to see the place he was drawn to. It’s night time here when it’s day time over in Brighton though, so right now the place is lit with fairy lights.

It’s a walkway that leads to a small park, with the only thing being a double swing set, a small pond full of fish that glows, he doesn't know how or why but they do. The swing set is in a sand pit that is surrounded by always perfect green grass which in turn, both the walk down to it and the little park itself is surrounded by trees which is where the fairy lights above are connected to and the pathway is just soft grass that was slightly worn from people walking from.

Speaking of, that was where he appeared. Like always, his bare feet land on the soft grass like every night for the past few weeks. He wore shoes at first, but it just made everything uncomfortable and disconnected. More than the constant feeling of being watched was, it was uncomfortable and almost threatening the first night, but it quickly changed to one of curiosity, before the feeling only happened when Anti arrived and right before he left. But right now all the eyes seem to be watching curiously.

‘I wonder why.’

Anti shrugs it off, putting on some music on my phone, putting the headphones in his ears before walking down the path. He ignores the feeling of being watched although he is a bit nervous as to why they are before he decides to focus on the mere feeling of comfort this place brought. He gets to the area with the swings sets and pond and begins to walk over but freezes seeing something sitting on one of the swings that was wrapped in cloth. From where he stood he can smell warm chocolate chip cookies.

His stomach growls, reminding him that he hasn't eaten in almost a day. He walks over seeing a note on it. Picking it up and his stomach drops a little reading it.

To the man who visits my swings every night, I made you some cookies. Hope they taste good!:)

Confused and Anti looks back down at the, apparently, cookie filled bundle of cloth and quickly opens it. The smell is absolutely divine, like walking into your house after a stressful day and seeing a batch of freshly baked cookies waiting on the table for you, made by someone you love. He quickly picks up the bundle sitting down and sets it on his lap as he sits down, nearly ripping out the headphones when they get in the way and shoving them into the pocket of the sweatshirt with his phone.

He grabs one, bringing it up to his mouth and immediately takes a bite and proceeds to moan in delight.

‘This is the best cookie I've ever had, and it’s still warm.’ He doesn't even register that the person who left them might still be around. I probably eat around four of them when the breeze grows noticeable, picking up excited whispers. I look around slightly confused, knowing the whispers are coming from. They didn’t feel bad or anything, if anything it felt almost comforting.

‘Christ, how fucked up to I have to be to find strange whispers coming from a dark forest comforting.’

He quickly wipes his mouth of any melted chocolate and crumbs with his sleeve and stops slightly as he faintly hears the sound of someone walking barefoot on grass. Straining his ears, he tries to hear where they’re coming from over the whispers before they suddenly stop.

“Hello.” A feminine voice speaks from behind him.

Anti jumps slightly, nearly knocking the cookies off his lap and snaps his head towards the voice. He freezes seeing the woman behind it. First thing first, she was tall, six foot at least. She has natural tan skin and long, and he means long, it looks like it would be at her heels if it wasn’t braided, golden blonde hair that has what looks like actual gold highlights. A soft and comforting face that he can’t help but find familiar, Midnight Blue eyes that shine with mystery and a small amused but kind smile.

“I see you got the cookies.” She cocks her head to the side slightly as Anti’s face flushes red at the realization that he probably stared at her for a full minute. She giggles slightly walking to the second swing and he can’t help but follow her with his eyes, trying to find out why she seems so familiar.

“Who are you?” He blurts out as she sits down. She looks surprised for a second before her face falls back into the kind but amused smile.

“My name is Liru, I own this place.” She answers patiently, like she expects him to interrogate her or something. He quickly looks down at his lap feeling her eyes on the side of his head.

“I hope you like the cookies.” Anti nods a bit, not wanting to look at her, not only embarrassed from getting caught but also from nerves, worried that she might try and hurt him or at the very least yell, like a normal person would.

“What's your name?” He freezes slightly but refuses to answer, not wanting to risk the glamour breaking. He quickly stands up and sets the cookies down on the swing before saying,

“S-sorry for intruding, I’ll leave now.” He fights back any glitches and quickly goes to walk down the path before she stops him.

“You don’t have to leave sweetie, anyone who comes to a little swing set at night, six miles from the nearest road and maybe twenty or so from the nearest town, every-night for the past few weeks is clearly needing to get away from something.” He freezes, wondering A. where the fuck he is and B. why the hell she’s letting him stay when he’s been trespassing. Jackie would have beat the shit out of him if he caught Anti going into his room let alone his property, and especially every night for the past four weeks.

He looks at her, confusion painted over his face while she just smiles sweetly before seeming to think for a minute.

“Actually, how about you come with me.” She says in a light tone, standing back up with a bounce. Anti jerks back in surprise, feeling more confused than anything.

“W-what?” He asks when he finally finds his voice, his heart racing in his chest as he suddenly feels rather shy. She smiles kindly walking over to him.

“I have plenty of warm food waiting at home and you obviously don’t want to go back to wherever it is you came from.” His heart jumps to his throat just as his stomach growls causing any denial and declination to die. She just gives him a kind look, her features soft with a small smile and slightly raised eyebrows.

“Come with me.” She pushes a warm bundle into his hands and he instinctively takes it, looking down he sees it’s the bundle of cookies.

‘When did she grab these?’ as far as he knows she hadn’t even reached over to grab them. She begins to walk down the path and after looking after her for a few seconds, debating, he quickly follows after her. He hears a small sound of satisfaction from her that he might not have picked up if he didn’t have enhanced hearing.

Looking over her form, he notes that she isn’t wearing shoes but she is wearing black shorts with little white stars all over them and a black sweatshirt that he noticed hung off her shoulders and a little white outline of planets on it. He also noticed the way her hair is braided is like she had to have someone else braid it. His heart jumps to my throat at the thought of some else being there.

‘I mean I shouldn’t even be going with her but there's just something… familiar, about her.’ He tries not to stir in the feeling, it reminds him too much of his bro-... the others. He decides to break the quiet, beginning to become irritated at the static in his head getting louder the static sound like someone telling him to leave.

“So do you live with anyone?” He tries to keep his voice even but when she looks back at him slightly he can feel my mouth go dry. She smiles softly which relaxes him a little bit before she looks back ahead.

“Nope, just me.” He tilts his head slightly a bit at that but doesn't press further. They walk in silence for a few more minutes before a rather large manor comes into view. It seemed to be made out of just wood, stone, the occasional metal and the glass in the windows. Not to mention the giant ass garden that was full of plants and flowers that Anti couldn’t tell you what they were for the life of him.

She giggles and he quickly snaps his attention to her, noticing she was a bit further away but turned to him.

“Come on, if you want I can show you the garden another time. For now dinner.” She states with a wave of the hand to follow her before she turns back towards the manor and continues walking. He looks back at the garden, her offer ringing in my head.

‘I might take her up on that offer.’ He’s always loved plants and animals and the thought of learning about more excites me a little.

Anti quickly shakes himself out of his thoughts and quickly jogs after her until he’s a few feet behind her, not wanting to get too close and make her uncomfortable. He looks around noticing that there were lighting bugs fluttering around the flowers that lead up the walkway to the door and the feeling of familiarity only seems to increase. She opens the door and steps aside and the smell of roasted meat and potatoes and cookies fills the air. His face turns a fiery red as his stomach growls and even more so when she chuckles.

“Come on in. And if you want you can take off your sweatshirt if you want, it’s kinda warm in here.” He walks into the house just shaking his head a little and notices that the inside is light rather dimly.

“How come it’s so… dim?” He asks as she closes the door behind him.

“I’m not a fan of bright lights at night, hurts my eyes and irritates the cats.” He perked up a bit at that.

“You have cats?” Anti can’t help the excitement from creeping into his voice as he looks at her. She just smiles fondly, walking down the hallway, Anti close behind, before responding.

“Yup. Two, A black and white Norwegian forest cat named Izzabella and a white ragdoll named Marvin.” He stumbles over his feet a bit, slapping a hand to his mouth trying and failing to hold back laughter. She stops turning to him with an eyebrow raised.

“Something funny?” He quickly stops, cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

“O-oh, uh n-no, it’s just uh, you see, one of my b-brother’s names is Marvin, a-and he’s known to a-act like a-a cat.” Marvin’s disgusted face flashes his mind from the time he tried to remind him that we’re brothers or, well, supposed to be.

She relaxes again before turning around and saying in a sweet high-pitched voice,

“Babies!” which is quickly followed by the sound of two tinkling bells, one moving erratically and approaching quickly while the other soft and approaching at a normal speed, for a cat at least. Within seconds he sees a white blur launch itself at her which she catches readily as it begins letting out loud purrs. He looks at it a bit surprised with what it just did but melts a little seeing how small it was.

It was extremely fluffy and white and had it’s head buried under her chin and had it’s paws on either side of her neck as if trying to hug her. She giggles petting it’s back while it proceeds to purr louder at the affection.

“This little guy is Marvin, the cat obviously.” He goes to say something but freezes when something rubs up against his legs. Looking down quickly he can see a fluffy black and white cat with stunning green eyes and a gold ring around them looking up at him purring loudly. He looks at the cat confused and also rather joyful but he tries not to touch it. He doesn’t want to scare it off.

“That’s Izzabella. She wants you to pet her ya know?” He snaps his attention to her and sees her watching him with a smile with her tongue poking through her side teeth and the white cat watching me with curious green eyes with a golden ring around it’s pupils. The cat below him lets out a squeaky meow before pawing at his leg. He looks down at it and after a few seconds he leans over and lets her stiff his hand before she begins rubbing against his palm.

Anti melts at the sight and begins to pet the cat's head a bit cautiously, still worried he might scare her. Liru makes a sound of approval as she sets the white cat down with a small smile on her face, glad that two of her familiars seem to have warmed up to the almost familiar stranger so quickly.

“Come, while the food is still warm.” The green haired man looks up at her just as she begins to walk down the hallway. He quickly scratches behind Izzabella’s ear before getting up and quickly following after her down the hallway.

‘She has a lot of interesting things.’ He thinks as they pass by a painting of a large and unnerving familiar castle surrounded in what looks like miles of some type of garden. She takes him to a large living room connected to a dining room that looks like that could fit all of the septics, and then some. And it looks like the comfiest place he’s ever seen and all the seats look soft enough to fall asleep on and the lighting is nice with fairy lights lining the ceiling. Looking at the rather big T.V. he can see a YouTube video paused, it looks like some Steven Universe song.

Anti watches as she goes over to a remote sitting on a coffee table and unpauses the song.

“I hope you don’t mind the music. It’s a bit difficult for me to do much without it.” She informs him as the familiar sound of “It’s Over, Isn’t It” begins to play.

“I don’t mind. I’m usually the same way anyway.” She smiles as she sets the remote down and walks over and he barely notices how her hand seemed to twitch towards her stomach area. She leads him over to a decent sized round wooden table, probably big enough to fit six or so people around it.

“Sit in any spot you like…” She pauses as she begins to walk to the kitchen but stops in the doorway.

“I just realized that I never got your name.” She turns to Anti with an almost sheepish smile. He look at her a bit confused, remembering that she did ask him-

‘Oh. I forgot to tell her.’ His face begins to turn red with embarrassment before answering,

“I-It’s Anti- I mean!” FUCK! She cuts him off with a small laugh before he can scramble to find a fake name.

“It’s alright sweetie, if that's your preferred name then you don’t have to tell me any other.” She has a soft smile as she looks at him and his heart jumps to his throat at the familiar nickname. She turns and walks into the kitchen while he sits at a random spot at the table while trying to figure out why she just seems so familiar. Putting his head in his arms on the table, he listens to the sound of her moving around the kitchen and putting stuff on plates, noticing that she's just barely singing a song different than to the one that was playing.

He doubts he would have even heard it if he was human. Closing his eyes and trying to focus on the lyrics but the only thing he can pick up is, “And disappear in the trees.”

Something flashes through his mind, someone with blonde hair like the sun and kind blue eyes singing down to… him? For some reason they look like Liru but with what are most likely multiple soul-marks on her face. His throat closes up as I recognize Marvin’s on her forehead the same place as it is on JJ and Jackie’s on her right cheek beneath her eye, covering most of the scar that went up her cheek from under her jaw. Anti knows that one is Jackie’s because it’s on the back of JJ’s left hand and for some reason, he doesn’t know why, told him.

He can see her mouth moving and focusing, he can faintly hear her singing. Thinking it’s the same one that Liru was singing if the tune was anything to go by.

“Tomorrow is another day

And you won't have to hide away.”

She brings up his(?) hand to her mouth as he realizes that their fingers are intertwined, and presses a few kisses to his(?) knuckles before setting their hands down on his(?) stomach. And for some reason, instead of feeling flustered or disturbed like he knows he should when someone he doesn’t know does something like that, he just feels content.

“You’ll be a man, boy!

But for now it’s time to run, it’s time to run!”

She looks like she’s going to keep singing but he’s suddenly yanked from… whatever that was by the sound of loud and malicious, distorted hissing in his ear. Anti jumps opening his eyes and jerking back in his chair just as the door to the kitchen opens and Liru walks out with a plate of food for him and a glass of water. She stops seeing his distress as the two cats rub against her leg before looking at the startled and disturbed man.

“Is everything okay honey?” She walks over quickly and sets his food and water on the table in front of him, looking down at him concerned. She goes to put a hand on his shoulder before stopping herself and putting it back at her side. Anti nods a bit shakily before forcing himself to calm down somewhat.

“I-I’m fįņe.” His voice almost glitches when he sits normally, clearing his throat trying to pass it off as a voice crack.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” He says, voice clearer this time as he nods his head. “I’m fine, just thought I heard something. She looks at him still worried as the cats sit at either side of him and watch him.

“Well, if you're sure.” She smiles a little again but also becomes a bit more concerned when his stomach growls again. When's the last time he ate?

“Well help yourself, don’t be afraid to ask for seconds, I made plenty of food. And,” she looks at the cats who are purring up at him with their best kitten faces, “Don’t give them anything, they’ve already had their share.”

He nods rather eagerly, almost causing his hood to fall as she turns and walks back into the kitchen to grab her own food as Anti happily and hungerly digs in. She comes back about a minute later with her food and some water and sits across from him, noting with a light frown on how he’s wolfing down his food. She puts on a smile as he looks up at her and she resists the urge to peek through the scarily familiar magic surrounding him, hiding his identity.

“Well I'm glad you like it honey.” He ducks his head a little hiding an embarrassed blush.

“By the way about your name,” He tenses just as he goes to take another bite. “It’s from that Jacksepticeye guy, right?” He relaxes a little, taking the help with the lie as he nods shyly.

“Um, yeah, yeah. Do you watch him?”

“From time to time. It’s nice to hear a familiar voice every now and again.” He looks at her a bit confused and the sound of Jack laughing fills his head along with the image of what has to be him sitting on the woman's lap while she has a happy grin on her face flashes through his mind before fading within seconds.

“Do you know him?” She fumbles a little with her fork as she realizes what she said and quickly responds,

“No, but my kids would watch him a lot.” His head snaps up to her shocked. She has kids?!

“You have kids?!” he exclaims in shock, she cannot be older than twenty-three. She pauses for a second before nodding and eating a bite of her food.

“I have five, but only two of them are biological.” Anti had nearly choked at that.

“How old are they?” He asks his voice filled with disbelief and shock. She gives him a slightly strained smile. It always hurts to talk about them when they’re so far away.

“Would you believe me if I told you my eldest is nineteen and youngest seventeen?”

“No.” Is his deadpan answer. She laughs a little at that despite the absence of them literally pulling her soul taut.

“Well they are, adopted though the oldest is twenty-one.” He just looks her over confused, not really believing that.

“How old are you?” She raises an eyebrow at him and he can suddenly see how she is a mom.

“It’s quite rude to ask a woman her age ya know?” In reality she doesn’t mind but she can’t think of a plausible age off the top of her head without it seeming weird. She’s actually 2,449 but, it’s not like she could tell him that. He looks down at his now empty plate sheepishly at that. She just chuckles softly as she eats a bit more.

“Would you like some more?” She asks after a few minutes of silence. He jumps at the sudden sound of her voice and quickly looks up at her. She hides a frown, hopping that he was just startled and not scared.

“O-oh um… sure.” She smiles and gets up and goes and grabs his plate and glass and goes back into the kitchen. She comes back a minute later and sets his food and drink in front of him before going back to her spot and continuing to eat. Anti quickly begins eating his food but at a slower rate as he tries to think about the fact that he should head back soon, and also ignore the cats who were giving him kitten eyes that reminded him a bit of JJ.

Once they were both done eating Anti lets out a loud yawn that he quickly tries to stifle. Liru smiles softly and collects the plates and glasses while saying,

“You’re more than welcome to stay the night if you wish.” He looks at her, more confused than when she offered him dinner as she walks back into the kitchen.

‘Why is she being so nice to me?’ As far as he knows people who’ve just met him seem to either loathe him or they’re afraid of him, well, minus JJ and Robbie but doc thinks it’s some form Stockholm syndrome with JJ, but he knows for a fact that's not true. JJ is the only reason Anti is the way he is now, no longer stitched together like patch work to whatever was using him. And Robbie… Robbie’s the newest member of the family, shocked the hell out of everyone when Chase of all people came back with the lilac “zombie” only he’s not a zombie. They don’t really know what he is but he always seems to gravitate towards Jack, JJ or Anti for whatever reason.

And for some reason he always seems to know when the voice and static start becoming too loud for him to ignore and try and control him again. He always finds him with JJ who at this point no longer needs any convincing to follow him to Anti when he approaches him. Anti snaps back to reality when Liru comes through the kitchen door and both cats get up and bolt over to the couches and hop onto their favorite cushions. She smiles at them before turning her attention to Anti.

“Would you like to stay tonight? I have a few guest bedrooms or if you want you can sleep on the couch.” She says giving him a look that feels like home. He barely thinks before he’s nodding.

“Y-Yeah, yeah… I’d like that.” She smiles happily at the answer, she doesn’t know why but she knows she can trust him not to do anything bad.

“Great! Would you like to sleep in one of the guest rooms or one of the couches?”

“The couch is fine.” He smiles a bit sheepishly up at her, “I don’t want to intrude more than I already have.”

“Oh honey you aren’t intruding at all! But if that's what you want I won't argue with it. Just go and choose which one you want to sleep on and I’ll go get you some blankets and pillows.” She gives him one last smile before quickly making her way through the living room and the hallway and disappearing upstairs.

Anti gets up and pushes his chair in before going over to the couch looking them over before sitting on the softest looking one and practically melting into the cushions. He knows that he should head home, that he really should sleep at a strangers house, especially when they aren’t an ego or anything like that. But he’s just so tired and comfortable that he never wants to leave. He closes his eyes listening to the song that just begins playing as Liru comes back with a few blankets and pillows.

“Alright then, here you are.” She goes and sets the pile next to him so he can set up his area however he likes. He sits up looking at them before looking up at her.

“Thank you.” He says in a quiet voice and he looks at the t.v. thats playing the song and she looks as well with a small smile and sings along with the last of Rose’s part.

“I like the way… Human beings play.”

Anti quickly snaps his attention to her, rather shocked that she’s singing along.

“And I like playing along,

Oh- oo, oh oh, woh oh.”

She looks at him and giggles seeing the look on his face. He looks away, his face turning a deep red.

“Goodnight honey, sleep well. You can watch anything you’d like or listen to anything, just turn it off if you leave before I’m up okay?” He nods in agreement and she makes a small sound of satisfaction before going back upstairs, Izzy getting up and quickly following after her while Marvin the Cat stays behind.

Anti gets up and makes his little makeshift bed, deciding to let the music play to help him sleep. As soon as he’s under the blankets the white cat hops up and lays on his chest and begins to purr. He smiles a little at the cat and reaches up letting it sniff his hand before it rubs its face into his hand. He pets the cat becoming rather tired from the purring that made him feel safe and if he didn’t know any better he’d think the scar was beginning to fade just by the feel of it.

“Ya know,” He says quietly to the cat who looks at him while he scratches under its chin, “You’re a lot nicer than my brother Marvin, you even seem like you care.”

The cat looks at him with a confused look and for a second Anti almost thinks he can understand him.

“Your owner is really nice too. I think that's the first meal that hasn’t been brought to me by JJ or hexed by Marvin. The human obviously,” He pets the cat's head who just stares at him with an almost worried look. “You’re too cute for that anyway.”

He smiles as he looks up at the ceiling, setting his hand on his stomach and the cat rubs its head against his chin as it sprawls out over him. He smiles a little hoping the blonde wouldn’t mind him coming back as he closes eyes and quickly falls asleep.

Meanwhile Liru is crawling into bed in an pink satin shirt that used to belong to her Fajrokraĉulo before he died. She takes a shaky breath as she covers herself staring at the ceiling through the dark while Izzy sleeps at the foot of her bed. She normally tries to stay up for at least a couple hours after dinner but the more she’s away from any of her soul-mates the more drained she gets. But it’s not like she’s gonna tell them that. They don’t need to worry about that.

She closes her eyes, rolling over laying there for a few minutes until she feels the spot next to her dip. She opens her eyes almost immediately at the familiar soul and damn near cries at the sight of her youngest son sitting on his knees next to her in pajamas and his oversized purple and black patch work jacket.

She moves the covers out of the way and he, just as quickly, crawls next to her and curls into her when she covers them both back up. She pulls him close before he latches to her burying his face into her shirt.

“I miss them.” Comes his muffled whispers.

“I miss them too sweetie.” She whispers into his brown and purple hair. They lay like this for a few minutes, both of them beginning to doze off.

“G’night Mama, I love you.”

“I love you too, my little Nimbus Cloud. Goodnight.” With that, he dozed off. She watches him for a few seconds before closing her eyes, thinking about what's left of her family and the stranger sleeping on her couch.

Translation:

Fajrokraĉulo = Firecracker

Tags

@kittican

@antis-gauge

@flowers-zombie-rob

@trixie8264

@animallover4000

@i-maybe-exist

@nightanjel

@thegamerbook

@smolbean-pma

@the-chemist

@therealtiger77

@immabethehero

@septicrebel

@protectjj

@littlebitfluffy

@shyan-cannon

@duckyiz

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dammit-stark · 6 years

Text

the great marvel vs dc debate: as understood by hawkeye

hey remember that phlint comic con fic i mentioned the other day? yeah well this is it.

Clint/Phil, rated G

Summary: Phil Coulson is a certified nerd who loves everything Captain America and works at the SHIELD headquarters downtown as a Level [REDACTED] [REDACTED]. He loves his Harry Potter-loving, future nerd of a niece so very much that he agreed to give her mom a break and bring her to comic con with him this year. Clint Barton is strictly Not A Nerd but it turns out there isn’t much of a market for fancy, handmade bows and arrows beyond comic conventions, and where there’s money Clint goes, so he finds himself at these things at least once a month and they’re usually pretty dreadful because he has exactly 0 idea what’s going on but hey that one guy dressed as captain America is really hot maybe nerds aren’t half bad.

[Read it on AO3!]

“Hey, you! Yeah, you- you Brown Guy! Get away from those!” Clint barked, tearing his eyes away from the handsome-looking soldier eyeing the custom coasters across the aisle just in time to see a kid dressed in some brown cloak fidget with one of Clint’s arrows, dropping it, “These are really expensive! Be careful!"

The Brown Guy just snickered and ran off, his whopping four foot tall body disappearing into the masses easily.

“Dammit,” Clint said, left to stare at the shards of an arrow in bits. The hot guy across the aisle moved to a different booth, farther away.

“Did I just hear you call that kid dressed as a Jawa a Brown Guy?” Veronica, Clint’s booth neighbor, leaned in, practically snorting with laughter. She had bright purple hair and glasses the size of her face and made awesome prints (mostly with acrylic paint and digital applications, but she used almost every medium), lots of them, and created pins of characters and actors that sold like hot cakes (if hot cakes had pictures of hot guys in intimidating fighting stances printed onto them).

“How am I supposed to know what he was?”

“You don’t know what a Jawa is? They’re in the first Star Wars movie, on Tatooine. Ringing a bell?” Nothing. Literally just a blank stare from Clint, “They’re the guys in A New Hope that sell Artoo and Threepio to Luke and Uncle Owen.” Still nothing. Veronica sighed, exasperated, “Why are you here if you don’t even know what a Jawa is, Barton?”

“Oh, Veronica, Veronica, Veronica, such a simpleton,” Clint said, scooping up the broken arrow pieces, “I do it for the money, that’s all. I would much rather be anywhere but here, but sadly this is where I find myself this weekend. I have no clue about any of this nerd stuff.”

“Well then, Barton,” Veronica said, giving Clint a rough clap on the shoulder and a wild smirk, “You’re in luck because a panel just started on the other side of the hall and it’s supposedly going to be a super popular one so business is about to thin out. Plus, Amy said she could guard my booth for awhile just in case. I can freely explain to you the intricacies of The Con. And Star Wars. You definitely need a lesson on Star Wars.”

Clint looked up just in time to see the handsome soldier shopping for coasters move into the masses that were heading in the direction of Veronica’s Super Popular Panel.

“Okay, I’ll listen. I don’t have anything better to do, I guess.”

“You better,” She said, taking a big sip of Mountain Dew and looking like she was about to start talking a mile a minute.

“You gotta explain who the people in the red, white, and blue soldier costumes are, too.” He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, he really did.

Veronica just smirked, like she knew all of his motivations, “Oh, don’t worry Archer Boy, I will, I will.”

////////

A flash of a red and black floppy hat (if that's what you would call a hat) rammed into Clint’s booth just as a harried, high pitch voice yelled from somewhere deep in the crowd, “Just because I let you dress up as Harley Quinn does not mean you can act like her! Come back here, missy!”

An overwrought BatMom of some sort appeared out of the crowds and reached for a handful of the back of the red-and-black checkered costume. But it was too late. An entire bow had ruptured, it’s string peeled right off the wood by the unruly hand of a child (Clint hadn’t even know that could happen to his bows, but children apparently found new ways to destroy things every day).

“Oh. My. Goodness. I am so, so sorry, sir. I’ll pay for it, I promise,” The BatMom was already pulling out her wallet, “How much did it cost?”

Clint shyly told her the price of the bow and she practically dropped her wallet.

“That much? I-I can’t afford that, I’m so sorry. Could I possibly buy something a little less expensive? What can I buy for, um, $65?”

Almost nothing. That bow had cost $300. Clint was losing money left and right today. He really hated comic cons.

“You could buy one of these arrows, m’am. I really appreciate this,” He smiled, trying not to show on his face that he was doing the math in his head of how many other arrows he’d have to sell to make up for the loss of this single bow and the Jawa's broken arrow.

“Well, I’ll buy it.” The BatMom reassured, keeping a tight grip on the back of Harley Quinn’s costume (whoever Harley Quinn is, Clint had no idea). The little girl was already trying to inch toward Veronica’s booth, or the coaster one across the aisle.

Clint started to make change and BatMom was getting antsy, practically hissed at her daughter to sit still for once for once in her life.

“So what are you two dressed as?” He said, just to pass the time and make things less awkward.

“Are you kidding me? You don’t know who we are?” BatMom said, as if he were crazy.

“No?”

“Well this little runt is Harley Quinn, and she’s not usually this bad, I swear, she’s just excited. She loves it here. And I’m Batman, obviously.”

“Isn’t Batman a… man?”

“So what?”

“Alright, I respect that,” Clint said, trying to make his chuckle as non-threatening as possible, “So what are you, from Star Wars or something?”

Clint could hear Veronica trying not to laugh from her booth.

“No… we’re superheroes.” Clint could tell that BatMom was wondering if she was being pranked or something, her face twisted and she looked towards the ceiling as if she'd catch some sort of secret camera.

“Like Captain America?”

“Well, kinda, but they belong to different universes.”

“Different universes? What does that mean?”

Veronica appeared, out of nowhere with a huge smile, “Go on, Batman. I’ll explain to our archer friend why Marvel and DC fans will forever be at war.”

BatMom smiled, “Well, good luck then. Again, I’m so sorry, sir. Have a good day!”

And she scurried off, just like that, with her daughter pulled tight to her side so she couldn’t run off again, leaving Clint alone with Veronica to get an earful on why Marvel and DC were completely different.

/////

The next time a kid showed up, Clint held his breath. He couldn’t afford another lost arrow. But instead, the little girl with her cloak and her yellow and black scarf and her wand just looked up at him with her wide, innocent eyes and shyly smiled.

“Can I help you?” Clint asked, hesitating. The sweetness could be a trap, the calm before the storm.

But instead, the little wizard (or rather witch, as Clint is corrected later) smiled at him and said, “Your bows and arrows are really pretty.”

“Thank you,” Clint said, because she may be a kid but he worked really hard and all compliments were appreciated, no matter how small, “Do you like archery?”

“It’s pretty cool, I guess, like Katniss!”

“Yeah, sure, like Katniss.” That was usually what people thought of when he talked about archery nowadays, it used to be Robin Hood. Not anymore. Now it was just all Katniss, all the time. Clint missed the days of Robin Hood (and the occasional Annie Oakley, which didn't completely make sense, but it was still appreciated).

“Katie, please don’t run away like that!” A voice appeared, out of nowhere, from the depths of the crowd, red, white, blue, and… hot. It was the Captain America from earlier, the one that Clint had been checking out as he checked out coasters. And apparently he had a daughter which meant there was probably a wife or significant other of some sort not far behind. Damn. But then, the cosplayer frowned and opened his mouth again, “Your mom would kill me if I lost you. Do you have any idea how easy it would be for my sister to kill me for losing you? With ease. She’d have no problem with it. None.”

Oh. So it wasn’t his kid, it was his niece. It appeared that there was still hope for Clint Barton and the Hot Cosplayer afterall.

“I’m so sorry,” Fake Captain America said, turning to Clint and oh, “She’s a curious one. I hope she didn’t bother you.”

This was his chance. Clint smiled as charmingly as he could, “Not at all. She was just explaining Katniss Everdeen to me.”

The stranger wrapped his arm around his niece, chuckling almost to himself, “She does like Hunger games. I’m Phil by the way, and this is Katie.”

“It’s Nice to meet you, Phil. You too, Katie. I’m Clint. I own Hawkeye’s Collectables." He widened his smile, just a little, to somehow make himself seem amicable to the max, hoping Phil would get the hint, "Here’s my card.” Clint hoped that the fact that his cell number was written on the back of the card was hint enough to call him. He didn’t want to blatantly ask this stranger out in front of his niece. Now that’d just be rude, right?

Phil smiled down at the card and Clint loved it, felt his stomach bloom as Phil spoke, “Thanks, Clint. So you make these all on your own?”

“Yeah, from start to finish at my studio.” Clint tried not to sound like he was boasting, but well, he was very proud of his craft.

Phil examined a nearby bow, “They’re amazing.”

Clint couldn’t help but smile, “Thank you so much. And y'know, I really like your costume.”

Phil smiled, so fucking wide it was unreal. Clint was gonna go for it. He really was. Just ask outfront, not wait for all that complicated dating subtext. The signals were there, right?. He just had to go for it, “Listen, I couldn’t help but notice-,”

But then he stopped because a beautiful redhead dressed as one of those people from Star Trek appeared seemingly out of nowhere and wrapped her hand around Phil’s elbow in such a familiarly intimate way that it made Clint’s stomach do a nose dive.

“Phil! I was looking everywhere for you!”

“Oh, Nat! Look at these bows! Aren’t they amazing? Clint here made them himself,”

Nat really looked at them, leaned over Phil to do so, like she was judging them, ranking them in her head, and maybe Phil wasn’t single afterall, this woman was certainly beautiful enough to be Phil’s girlfriend or wife or whatever. Nat smiled and Clint felt himself burn, almost vicariously, “These are really cool,”

“Thanks... I guess.”

Nat turned back to Phil, “Come on, the cosplay contest is about to start. You can totally place again, maybe even win!”

Katie got excited, too, started tugging on Phil’s sleeve, “I wanna see you win, Uncle Phil! Come on! Come on!”

Phil rolled his eyes at the two girls and looked at Clint, “It was nice to meet you.”

“Good luck with your contest,” Clint replied and slumped against his table. There was once again no point to Comic Cons apparently. Not without the hopes of hot guys dressed as Captain America.

////

The next day when Clint received a text from someone saying that they were Phil From The Con, he was ecstatic for approximately 0.2 seconds before he remembered that Phil was most likely completely and utterly Straight and Taken. Damn.

So he did what any mature and reasonable adult would do. He ignored the messages. Dealing with his problems would obviously be too difficult. Obviously.

When Clint was laying on his couch watching Dog Cops and his phone rang, the caller idea reading the number that Phil had texted him with, Clint (very maturely, by the way) threw his phone to the other side of the couch, conveniently underneath one of the ratty purple throw pillows so that the ringer was muffled, and pretended that he had no idea what that ringing sound was.

Clint received three more texts before the end of the week when they just stopped coming altogether.

Clint went back to his everyday life. He crafted some more bows, made replacement arrows, scheduled his next con, did whatever he could to take his mind off of the texts dinging from his phone. Thankfully, Clint received a particularly expensive request through his website that allowed him to take his attention away from Hot and Straight Phil and onto working on the order.

He liked to personally deliver the more expensive orders himself. It was sort a place of pride for him. So as he finished up the customized product, Monday came around and he packaged up his work and set out for the address on the email. It was nearby anyway, only a 15 minute drive. Once at the correct address, Clint maneuvered the package to the door and waited patiently for the customer after hearing a muffled, “I’m coming! Hold on!” From within the condo.

It was a medium-sized, modest, uber-modern condo that looked barely lived in, like the owner had somewhere better to be all the time. It was entirely different from Clint’s apartment, that looked like a tornado had hit it no matter what the time of day it may be. The door opened just as Clint began contemplating how many items he left out just on the path from his front door to the couch and how long it would probably take to tidy that area up (too damn long).

Clint gasped, “Phil?”

And sure enough, Phil stood there, smiling like he was the smoothest motherfucker in the entire world and well, granted, Clint had not seen that coming. But here Phil, the very person he had been avoiding for over a week and a half, stood in his nice and tidy house with his probably-girlfriend probably somewhere in there, answering the door wearing a ratty old t-shirt with a faded Captain America logo printed across the front.

“Hey, Clint. How’s it going?”

“You- um-,” Clint seemed to be having difficulty speaking, “You ordered something?”

“Yes, I believe I did,”

And before Clint could stop himself he found himself blurting, “Why?”

“Because I like you,” Phil said, so effortlessly, so easily, like it wasn’t something that Clint had been struggling to put into words for over a week and a half.

“What about your girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?”

“You know,” Clint said, gesturing, “Nat?”

Phil honest-to-god snorted aloud, “Natasha is not my girlfriend. And trust me, she never will be. We just work together and well, let’s just say that neither of us exactly swing that way.”

“Oh. Oh.” Clint said dumbly, “So you-?”

“Yeah, Clint, Yeah.”

“Oh. Well, um, in that case, would you like to go out sometime?”

That trademark Phil Smile that Clint found himself loving returned again, “If you promise to respond to my texts, Clint, yeah, I’d love to.”

“Good,”

“Would you like to come in?”

Oh boy did Clint ever want to. But, nerd or no, Clint knew nothing real about him, and he had kinda liked the mystery, the waiting while it had lasted, “Not today, Phil,” Clint said, like some sort of half-promise, “Not today.”

Clint left, inadvertently forgetting all about the bow that he had made for Phil, leaving the wooden masterpiece on Phil’s doorstep, like part of his heart or his soul or something, left right outside of Phil's home to face the weather and all its irony. Clint only remembered it after he had already started the car, considered it a gift to Phil, and drove off.

At the end of the month, when Clint was looking over his bills (Phil made him do things like that, it was cute how heated he got about Clint doing Adult Things because they were Important), he found a mysterious entry of money without identification, equal to the price of the bow.

Almost like somebody had hacked his accounts and imputed just enough money to repay him for the bow. Weird. The name said something like Fury, but Clint didn't know a Fury. He'd certainly remember a name like that. Oh well.

#clint/coulson #phlint #shieldhusbands #clint barton #phil coulson #clint barton/phil coulson #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #marvel #avengers

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milldawg · 7 years

Text

COMPLETE OVERWATCH COSPLAY GUIDE: PART I

Overwatch has some pretty slick character design, so it's no surprise that fans of the game love to cosplay its colorful cast. But newer cosplayers often have trouble figuring out where to start. As an experienced Overwatch cosplayer myself(1), I often get asked a lot of the same questions: What materials do I need? Which tools are the best? Do I need to be a skilled artist? How much will this all cost?

Wonder no more, newbies! I've put together this comprehensive guide to answer all of these questions in one convenient location. If you love playing Overwatch and want to cosplay as one of its amazing characters, look no further! After reading this four-part guide, you'll be able to whip up a convincing and impressive cosplay for any one of Overwatch's 24 unique heroes -- without breaking the bank.

In Part I, I'll teach you how to cosplay Overwatch's seven "Offense" heroes.

SOLDIER: 76

Soldier is a fan favorite(2), and he's quite easy to cosplay. First, get some ski goggles and paint the lenses red. It's OK if you can't see out of them; we'll fix that later(3). Then get one of those surgeon's masks and paint it black. Next, get a jacket. Any jacket will do. Wear a goddamn poncho if you want. Go crazy.

Put on the jacket, then the mask, then the goggles. It's crucial that you put on the items in this exact order(4).

Finally, enlist in the United States Marine Corps and remain on active duty for 28 years. By the time you're done, you'll be a grizzled veteran, jaded and bitter, filled with disgust at the very world you sacrificed so much to protect -- just like "Dad" himself! (Be sure to keep the ski goggles and surgeon's mask on your face at all times during your entire tour of duty.)

REAPER

Reaper is a little more difficult than Soldier: 76. It's an unspoken rule within the Overwatch cosplay community that any good Reaper cosplayer must be able to teleport. If your Reaper cosplay doesn't violate the unwavering laws of physics that govern our natural universe, then you're a pathetic loser and your cosplay is trash. I guess you can do the mask and the hood or whatever, but no one's gonna pay attention to that garbage. It's all about the teleportation.

There are several commonly used techniques for mastering the art of teleportation. If you're on a tight budget, you'll probably want to forge a black compact with vile Satan, the Devil himself, forever consigning your eternal soul to writhe in unimaginable torment in an endless, maddening inferno. But the quicker option (which I personally prefer, even if it's a little more expensive) is to buy a Home Teleportation Kit ($29.95 at Radio Shack). It probably won't be as flashy as whatever dark, twisted design might spew forth from the undulating machinery of Beelzebub's incomprehensible Nightmare Engine, but the kit just takes a few minutes to set up and you're good to go.

Reaper's signature gravelly voice is also a key component to a good cosplay. It takes a little practice to replicate, but you can train your vocal cords by doing these three simple exercises every day:

1. Swallow an entire colony of deadly Australian Bull Ants (Myrmecia pyriformis). 2. Wire, glue, or staple your jaw shut. 3. Listen to the complete discography of KoRn six times, doubling the volume each time.

Nature will take care of the rest.

GENJI

A lot of would-be cosplayers assume that cosplaying Genji is difficult, since he's a cyborg with lots of mechanical parts, but it's actually quite easy. Just follow these three simple steps:

1. Go to Japan. 2. Be a robot man. 3. Remain in Japan forever.

SOMBRA

To really get into the character of Sombra, you need to become Sombra -- literally. By gradually introducing new behaviors and lifestyle adjustments into your daily routine, you will eventually become Sombra herself, eliminating the very need for cosplay in the first place.

First, you'll need to immerse yourself in the kind of environment that Sombra would call home. What I've done in the past, and what I'd recommend for first-time Sombra cosplayers, is to purchase eight hundred copies of William Gibson's Neuromancer and construct a fort out of them in your living room. Another common method I've seen cosplayers use is to sell their house and move into an abandoned electronics manufacturing plant. Yet a third option is to start a personal diary, but just write "i am t3h h4xx0rz" on every page until you are t3h h4xx0rz.

Once you've created a sufficiently cyberpunk environment for yourself, the next thing you'll need to do is to become Hispanic. I leave this step as an exercise to the reader.

Finally, you'll need to become invisible. Unfortunately, invisibility can't be taught; if you weren't born with the gift of invisibility (and you don't have access to an arcane reliquary(5)), you'll have to just pretend to be invisible by stripping down to your underwear and screaming "INVISIBLE INVISIBLE INVISIBLE" at anyone who comes near you until they stop looking at you. When no one is looking at you, you are functionally invisible, which for cosplay purposes is close enough (at least, if you subscribe to Berkeley's doctrine of subjective idealism(6)).

PHARAH

Everyone's favorite rocketeer, Pharah is one of the most popular characters to cosplay(7). Pharah cosplayers have experimented with lots of different materials and machining techniques in their quest to make that perfect flight suit, and some of their creations have been really innovative and impressive. But if you're just starting out, don't bother with the suit at all; just buy an actual rocket launcher. No one will notice that you aren't wearing a suit because you'll be detained by security well before you get anywhere near the convention center.

TRACER

You can put together a pretty good Tracer cosplay by mixing and matching parts from other costumes. If you've cosplayed as Reaper, you already know how to teleport, so the hardest part is already out of the way. (See the Reaper section above.) You can reuse the goggles and jacket from your Soldier: 76 cosplay as well. For the last few pieces of Tracer's outfit, you'll just need to repurpose the reactor heart thingy from an Iron Man cosplay, some orange pants from a cosplay of a carrot, and the DNA of an actual British woman. (Be sure to get permission before extracting someone's genetic material.)

If you don't have any of those things, then you can just sprint around the convention center floor shouting "I AM TRACER" in a halting, robotic monotone (just like Tracer does in the game). Stare straight ahead and do not make eye contact with anyone. From time to time, skid to a halt and dart furtive glances around the room like a startled squirrel. Look down at your trembling hands with an expression of increasing dismay, as if it's just beginning to dawn on you that you've murdered your own father. As soon as anyone approaches you or says anything to you, immediately resume sprinting and shouting.

MCCREE

Unfortunately, it's impossible to cosplay McCree. He's simply too manly for anyone who plays a nerdy video game like Overwatch to convincingly pull off. If you want a good McCree cosplay, your best bet is to hire Clint Eastwood to do it, as he is functionally indistinguishable from McCree. Mr. Eastwood's contact information can be found below:

Clint Eastwood Malpaso Productions 4000 Warner Blvd. Building 81 Suite 101 Burbank, CA 91522

That's all for Part I. Thanks for checking out my guide! Stay tuned for Part II, coming soon(8)!

FOOTNOTES

(1) This is a lie. (2) This is a lie. (3) This is also a lie. (4) This, too, is a lie. (5) This isn't a thing. (6) [dense, protracted commentary on 18th century metaphysics] [numerous scholarly citations] [irrelevant but adorable photo of a puppy licking a rabbit's head] (7) Yet another bald-faced lie. I suppose it could be true incidentally, but I'd still consider it a lie, seeing as how I'm intentionally attempting to mislead you. (8) Probably, like, two months. So, not very soon. That's right, I lied again. You should have caught on by now.

#overwatch #cosplay

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