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thera-daydreams · 3 years

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INDAY

± A Trese Fic ±

[Crispin/Basilio/Maliksi/Dominic x Skymaiden!Reader]

01: Noon at Ngayon (✓)

02: Ang Kambal na Anak ni Datu Talagbusao, Diyos ng Digmaan (Link)

03: Ang Prinsipe ng Mga Tikbalang (Link)

04: Ang Pinuno ng Mga Aswang (Link)

05: (Link) 06: (Link) 07: (Link)

01: Noon at Ngayon

Back then, long before you were born, your mother used to work as a katulong of the Trese Family and was very close to its matriarch, Miranda Trese. Coming from the province, she was no stranger to superstitions—even more so after knowing the work of Miranda's husband Anton Trese, who was actually the Babaylan-Mandirigma of Manila.

Years later, after giving birth to you around the same time Miranda gave birth to her twins (one a stillborn, unfortunately), it was you and Alexandra who became best buddies instead, as different your personalities were. You two had practically grown up together and you yourself heard countless stories of the supernatural from your Tito Anton. It wasn't that hard to believe when he and his sigbin companions would sometimes come home tracking blood prints on the floors (which you'd helped your mother clean up). Heck, you'd even met Señor Armanaz, the Great Stallion himself and the ruling tikbalang of the Armanaz herd. That pretty, white-haired diwata seemed extremely fond of you, too, which was evident when you'd sneak in with Alexandra to Tito Anton's meetings and she would smile (even wave) at you happily.

You had absolutely no idea why the fae-like lady was so nice to you, but you weren't complaining at all!

However, in spite of your experiences with the supernatural, you and your mother always believed that you were normal humans. In actuality, that was who you were for the majority of your childhood. It was only until Miranda herself saw a vision of you—a much older you—fighting the monsters of the Underworld alongside her own daughter. During dinnertime, Miranda told your mother that she saw you blessed by the heavens with powers that would aid in the battle against evil.

It sounded absolutely ridiculous, right? Yeah, your mom thought so, too.

Your mother only laughed it off as she placed a steaming bowl of tinola in front of Alexandra's brothers, who instantly dug in like they haven't been fed in years.

"Boys! Dahan-dahan lang," Anton reprimanded his sons. "Or else you'll choke and the soup will come out of your noses!"

"Okay, Papa."

"Grabe ka naman, Miranda. I doubt that anything like that's going to happen to my daughter," your mom chuckled, watching your little hands try to feed Alexandra with a piece of chicken. "Unlike you guys, our lineage isn't anything special. Ordinaryo lang ang lahi namin."

Miranda sighed, looking at you and her only living daughter enjoying your time being kids, "I guess you're right. Baka panaginip lang talaga 'yun."

Anton glanced at her knowingly. Although he was aware that you and your mom didn't dabble in magic or anything like they did, he knew that whenever Miranda—one of the Seven Seers—had such vivid dreams, it was something of great importance. But he decided to say nothing, understanding how much your mother wanted to let you live as normal of a life possible in this household.

That was when you were seven years old. One year later, Miranda died fighting against a group of aswang who decided to betray Anton. Said man found the eight-year-old Alexandra hiding in a corner behind the waterfalls, scared and holding Sinag close to her heaving chest as she tried to hold her tearful sobs in.

Of course, a few days later, you and your mother attended the funeral with the mourning Trese family. All the brothers had done their best to stay strong, especially for their little sister who didn't fully understand yet what just happened. Little you ran towards Alexandra, holding her hand tightly as her mother's casket was lowered. Around you were various comrades, both human and non-human, paying their respects to their bereaved allies.

That day, as you turned your back to return to your mother's arms, you knew you would never forget the feeling of numerous unearthly eyes following your every movement.

Even they could sense that there was something about you, a so-called regular human child. You smelled human and had the aura of one, but there was something they couldn't place. It was like a tiny rock getting into your shoe, not coming out at all.

Much changed after that, but you and Alexandra remained close together. To your dismay, just after you graduated elementary, you and your mother had to move back to the province to stay with your sick grandparents. The last thing you could remember was kneeling in the back of the car, looking sadly through the rear windscreen as Alexandra and her brothers waved goodbye to you.

More than a decade had passed since then. You used to write letters to Alexandra, but after Hank told you she had to undergo the trials of the Puno ng Balete, you haven't heard from her (although Hank did disclose that she'd managed to come home safely, which was a great relief to you). You didn't blame her; you knew Tito Anton had passed away in the five years she was gone and that she had to take over the title of Lakan, as well as the Babaylan-Mandirigma of Manila. It was a demanding job! You remembered Tito Anton sometimes staying up all night—breakfast would be served and he would still be in his study, going over paperwork. On other days, he would be gone for consecutive nights handling cases all around Manila. You could only pray Alexandra was fine.

Your life had continued on, as well—you took care of your ill grandparents until they died, helped your mother in the province, went to a good highschool, then earned your degree in another prominent city that wasn't Manila.

Your mom actually recommended that you go to school somewhere else, given the constantly rising number of attacks in the capital of the country. And so you did. Life was hard, but normal until then.

The funny thing was that, when you reached the age of twenty-one, you finally understood why those supernatural creatures kept looking at you weirdly as a kid (and why Lady Diwata liked you so much).

What was even funnier was that the dramatic revelation came to you when you weren't in the Philippines. It was after you freshly graduated college, when you were traveling all over Asia to volunteer in charity projects. It was always your dream to one day expand your horizons not only beyond your province, but the Philippines itself, while also doing good in the world.

And here you were, walking that path you dreamt of.

The organization you luckily managed to become a member of provided everything you needed, and every few months, you would move from country to country. Because of that, you'd already been able to travel to so many places. First it was Thailand, then Indonesia, China, South Korea, India, Japan, Sri Lanka, Singapore, Malaysia, and currently, you were in Vietnam. Visiting those places was fun and gave you a whole new perspective of the world you lived in; it was a... learning experience, too.

Still, that incident happened when you were in Thailand, when you were the last one in the rented apartment balcony taping up the boxes for the donation drive tomorrow. Yawning, you cut more duct tape and stuck them to the open boxes tightly.

"Inday," someone said from behind you. You didn't bother turning around, thinking it was one of your fellow volunteers looking for you this late at night. Probably your roommate. She was the only one who usually called you by your nickname instead of your real name.

"Hmm?" you hummed, taping up more boxes. "Papasok na ako sa kwarto, Lyn. I just have a few more boxes to close. Alam mong mapapagalitan ako kung may hindi madidistribute bukas."

"Hindi ako si Lyn."

You paused, then slowly turned around, flinching at the sudden bright light that shone right against your eyes. For a moment, akala mo namatay ka na at hinaharap mo si San Pedro.

It was a glowing figure in white whose face you couldn't clearly see, which frightened you even more.

"Ay, mama!" you exclaimed, shielding your eyes and falling to your knees. Then, you gasped loudly, patting your body and panicking with closed lids. "Oh my God, am I dead? Nasa heaven na po ba ako?" Your lips wobbled. "Ngayon pa nga lang ako nakaalis ng Pilipinas... I haven't even done all the things I've wanted to do! Hindi pa ako nakapagpaalam sa nanay ko—aray!"

You'd felt something hit the back of your head. Hard. It was the glowing figure in white, but now you could see their unimpressed face scowling at you.

"Kalma lang, Inday. Hindi ka pa patay, pero makinig ka nang mabuti," they shushed you urgently (you weren't sure if they were male or female). "Do not be afraid. I am a messenger from the heavens, and I bear great news!"

"Great news...?" you trailed off, then your eyes widened excitedly. "Like, nanalo ba ako ng lotto? Isang milyon? Bilyon? Hala! Wait, is this a Mama Mary moment? I'm not ready to be the next immaculate conception!"

They glared at you, making you shut up instantly. "Sorry, I'll shut up now," you apologized with a mumble. This person (thing?) was kind of... strict. Whatever did you do wrong? You were just sleep-deprived and running on energy drinks (as well as kape).

"I have come to tell you that you are the vessel of the last skymaiden," they revealed, arms wide open. The light around them seemed to grow even brighter, making you squint. You felt like you were about the go blind! "Ikaw ang huling biraddali, Y/N L/N."

At ayun, zero brain cells remaining. Tunay na nagloading screen ang brain mo. Nag-error at nagcrash pa nga siguro, eh.

"... Ha? Ano?"

You blinked, completely speechless—as seen by how wide your jaw had dropped open. It wasn't that you were unfamiliar with the biraddali, it was just that you'd only heard of them once when you were just a young child. Your Tita Miranda had mentioned they were long gone from the world of the supernatural.

"Oh no, me? A biraddali? You're joking," you stuttered out, pointing at yourself. "Aren't they extinct or something? And, uh... not human?"

They nodded, "Yes. It is correct that everyone in the mystical world thought that the biraddali were long gone, even before the colonizers came to conquer the native lands. However, before the skymaidens all disappeared, the youngest and most powerful one among the seven sisters sealed her soul away to the rivers of time until the strength of a heavenly being was needed to help purify the evils of the world." The figure floated closer to you. "That last biraddali's soul, along with its corresponding power, traits, and knowledge, had chosen to reside deep within you the moment you were conceived."

Honestly, how were you even supposed to react? Your life was nowhere near ready for something like this. Was this a prank by your friends? Your colleagues? The light around this person seemed too authentic to be fake, though.

You stayed in shock for an entire minute, silent. The being in front of you only waited for a response.

"Ano 'to, Sailor Moon? Winx Club?" you whispered to yourself, before slapping your own cheek and scolding yourself. A stinging red mark was left on your face. "Inday, kakamanhwa mo 'yan! Nasosobraan ka na ata, matulog ka na!"

Sighing heavily, you rubbed your face tiredly, still in disbelief that you—according to this stranger—were apparently some old soul from a species of ethereal beings that were long gone. It sounded like something out of those reincarnation webnovels you got addicted to. What now, you were the MC? Wattpad ka, girl?

"Look, this is a mistake. I still have to wake up early tomorrow to give out the donations," you spoke to the glowing being (or whatever it was), laughing nervously. "I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong person. Either that or I must be hallucinating from sleep deprivation, because I'm definitely not a divine creature. You're probably just a product of my imagination. Sorry, I'm going to bed."

Bang!

At that moment, the power in the building went out. The only thing you could see was the thing who assumed you were a biraddali (they were so bright they were like a flashlight in the dark for you).

"Brownout?" you blinked. It felt wrong, though. It was eerily silent. "Did a fuse blow up?"

"Nagsimula na ang iyong unang pagsubok, Y/N," they announced seriously. "Creatures of the dark have already begun to take over this building. You may not have noticed, but all throughout your life, you have always been helping and giving. It is your nature as a being descended from the heavens themselves, and now, it is time for you to accept your destiny."

"Hoy, sandali lang! Sandali, sandali!" You were absolutely wide awake now as you heard the sounds of strange whispers around you. It was terrifyingly creepy, much creepier than whatever you'd seen back in the Trese Residence (and you'd seen a lot in that house). You did not want to be a part of a horror movie-like lifestyle. "Don't I have a choice in this?! I—I don't have any training or fighting skills! Hindi ako Alexandra Trese o Babaylan-Mandirigma! I'm not ready for this, holy sh—"

The candescent creature raised a brow at you, "Inday, I just told you that you have the power of a lost mystical being. And tell me, if you had the power to save your companions in this building from the forces of evil, would you save them?"

You were silent, knowing the answer.

"Well?" they prodded.

You bit your lip, "Oo naman. I'm not heartless!" But you were a little impulsive. And apparently, insane.

"That's what I thought. I just need you to believe in yourself," the being encouraged, gentler this time. It transformed into something smaller and rounder—like a ball of light. "Ikaw ang huling biraddali, Y/N, at marami kang kapangyarihan. Isa dito ay ang pagtulong sa mga nangangailangan, lalo na laban sa masasamang nilalang."

Bestie, what had you just gotten into?

You swallowed apprehensively, then nodded in determination, "Sige. So, how do I save the people in the building? Biraddali were said to be able to shapeshift, right? If I remember the tale correctly. Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening to me right now."

"That's just one of your abilities, but I'll teach you. I'm actually your guide," they replied confidently. "With me, you'll be able to master your powers and exceed your capabilities in no time!"

"Wait! Anong pangalan mo?" you asked breathlessly, following them as they speedily flew out of the room. "Grabe, slow down! I'm not athletic! I haven't even exercised this week, goodness."

"... Gabay. Ako si Gabay."

Despite the adrenaline and fear running in your veins, you still grinned up at the ball of light, "Okay. Nice to meet you, Gabay."

This was just the beginning of your supernatural combat training abroad. When you returned to the Philippines three years later, you were stronger, faster, and more powerful than you'd ever felt before. It was crazy.

Oh, that guy who tried to rob you when you came back to Manila was crazy, too. The two identical-looking men in dark suits and white ties—you wondered how they were surviving the heat in that attire—could only watch in awe as you chased down that man who stole your bag while doing acrobatics and parkour.

"Uy, Kuya Crispin, sino kaya 'yun?"

"Ewan ko, Basilio."

"... She's kind of pretty. Type ko. Type mo rin ata."

"The more important question is, paano niya na nahuli ang magnanakaw?"

"Oo nga, no? One in a million chance 'yan dito sa Maynila, haha! Ang astig ni ate!"

(Next Chapter.)

± Author's Notes ±

Ayieee, type daw tayo ng kambal! 😌

How the hell did I write this entirely random thing in one day? 2k+ words? Ano daw? 😃⁉️

You know, this was supposed to just be a Trese one-shot or a bunch of drabbles for the characters I'm currently simping for... but it turned into a full-blown, shameless self-insert slash crackfic. Kakacellphone ko 'yan. 🤦‍♀️

Nagresearch pa ako ng articles about Filipino skymaidens because I wanted something similiar to the Japanese celestial maidens (tennyo). Very random idea but why not? Gusto ko ng badass Y/N na hindi takot lumaban sa mga mumu! 👻

Also, pagbigyan niyo nalang ang matandang 'to kasi ilang taon na akong hindi nagpopost ng mga writings ko. May track record pa naman ako bilang author na hindi nagtatapos ng mga fanfic, hehe. I also haven't read the comics so please forgive me for any inaccuracies and of course, misspellings/errors. Gusto ko lang matapos 'to para makakabalik na ako sa Jujutsu Kaisen. 🥲😗

Anyways, comments and constructive criticism are welcome! Hit those heart, reblog, and follow buttons for updates! Just comment if you want to be tagged in the next chapters. ❤

#trese #trese netflix #trese 2021 #crispin #basilio #maliksi #dominic #x reader #kambal x reader #crispin x reader #basilio x reader #maliksi x reader #dominic x reader #trese x reader #thera.writes

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moonbeamsung · 3 years

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Winter Nights & City Lights

Because nothing says ‘Christmas’ like spending the big day (and not to mention the whole holiday season) in the Big Apple living with your high school friend-turned-roommate, Mark Lee.

member: mark (featuring johnny)

au: roommate!mark x gn!reader, college roommate au, christmas au, ‘the gift of the magi’ au/inspired

word count: 9.5k

genre: fluff, angst, slice of life

warnings: profanity, underage drinking, hangovers, insecurities, mentions of food and drink, money issues, embarrassing moments

author’s note: This fic is close to becoming my favorite that I’ve ever written. It’s also almost twice as long as I planned, not to mention that tumblr crashed right as I tried to post it so here I am, two hours later. Overall I had a blast writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it! Please let me know what you think, too! :,) Happy holidays! <3

taglist: @astroboy-lele @kisshim @radiorenjun

network tags: @kpopscape @neo-constellations @starryktown @culture-cafe @dreamlab-nct

“That parade was so cool! I mean, did you see the size of all those balloons? They were huge! I’ve never seen so many people all in one place before,” Mark chatters away like an excited child as you navigate through the crowd that always seems to grow bigger year after year, gathered along the curbs of the New York streets to watch the famed Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

“How are you not more excited about this?” He questions, and you stifle an amused giggle. “I’ve lived in the city for over a year, Mark. I’ve seen a thing or two.”

“Oh, right. I knew that.” The cold air only accentuates the blush on his face as he remembers that particular detail about you. It isn’t often that it’s demonstrated, however, considering you spend so much time cooped up inside of your shared apartment cramming in university work and studying. There are hardly any opportunities during the year to take in the sights of the concrete jungle you live in the very heart of, but luckily, one of your long-awaited breaks is coming up soon.

Thoughts of Christmas vacation are the only things keeping you going, along with countless cups of steaming hot coffee, as you prepare for exams in just a few weeks, weeks that seem to go by in a flurry of snow.

There’s less than three days left until your first one, but you’re nothing short of drained after pulling so many all-nighters, and you need a break. A breath of fresh air seems like just the cure for your burnout, so you slam your textbook shut and lethargically drag yourself off of the soft comforter you’ve been sitting on for the past two hours. You grimace at the deep imprint left behind.

Trudging through the living area, you knock softly on Mark’s bedroom door. A tired “Come in” sounds from the other side, and you push it open, immediately noticing his disheveled state. Eyes heavy with fatigue and lacking their usual sparkle of youthful innocence, he blinks back at you, “What’s up?”

“You look like you need a break just as much as I do,” you insist. His already-open mouth widens a bit more, “But... our first exam is on Monday, we can’t just—”

“Mark, come on, you’re one of the smartest people in our class. If anyone’s going to pass, it’s you.”

He huffs, “Maybe you have a point.”

“I do have a point, and you know it. A little walk in the park never hurt anyone, right?”

Mark rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, fingers raking through his dark locks before he musters up enough strength to push himself off of his bed and into a standing position.

“I’ll get my jacket.”

Central Park is a sight to behold on its own all year round, but something about the Christmas season makes it even more magical. You and Mark step at the same pace, your paths lined by metal benches blanketed in fresh snow. Even through the many layers of warmth you’re both wearing, the chilly air still nips at your skin. It’s Mark’s first time experiencing the holidays in New York City, and you’re determined to show him everything this real-life winter wonderland has to offer.

The story of how you two came to be roommates in the first place is an extremely lucky one. You met in high school, and had been part of the same group of friends along with six younger boys. Both Canadian, you’d been hoping to get into the same New York college since what felt like forever. The day that you received your acceptance letters in the mail was full of joy and celebration, but not even a week later, Mark got an unexpected scholarship to a local but prestigious university not far from where you lived that he simply couldn’t pass up.

Parting ways after graduation, you had thought you might never see each other again until you got a call from him. It was the day after your last exam of the spring semester in college and you were sitting on your two-person couch, feeling rather lonely. The number seemed too familiar, too good to be true, and scrambling to pick up the phone as it blared throughout your fairly small apartment, you answered with a shaky voice. Mark’s recognizable tone met your ears, and a wide smile met your face. Though he couldn’t see it, he could hear the happiness in your words.

As it turned out, his college had given him the opportunity to transfer to yours for the remainder of his four years, as their programs were closely linked and on similar levels. Graciously, he had accepted, and wanted you to be the first to know.

“So, uh... are you living with anyone?”

The question he dreaded asking more than anything else. Call him cliché, but he had the biggest crush on you in high school, much to his dismay and to the rest of his friends’ excitement. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to like you, but he feared that college could tear a potential relationship apart, regardless of whether or not you went to the same one.

As a result of this, he had never acted on his emotions. But he’s older now, and wiser, which leads him to believe that maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to maintain one, should he ever gain enough courage to ask you out.

“No, actually, I have my own apartment.”

Silence.

“...Are you looking for somewhere to stay?”

“Yes! Yes,” he replied a little too quickly, eager to accept what would hopefully be an invitation from you. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Well, my place isn’t the biggest, but you can live with me if you want to. Plus, we could split the rent between us!”

You’ve always liked Mark. He’s hardworking, kind, and humble, maybe a little too much of all these things for his own good. Even back in high school, you spent endless nights and very early mornings on the phone with him, trying to convince him to go to bed after he refused to stop studying. To reassure him that he did the right thing by ending that friendship, or to insist that he tell the teacher no one worked on the group project, so he did everything himself. You’ve been his shoulder to cry on for years, you’ve seen a side of him that he’s never been brave enough to show anyone else because they expect so much of him.

Mark knows he’s blessed to have had a picture-perfect childhood, a good family, and an education that was rigorous yet rewarding enough to prepare him for his next chapter in life. The pressures that came with being so lucky just got to him sometimes, and they made four years of high school seem more like fourteen.

You, on the other hand, didn’t quite have all the same luxuries that he did, but you still managed. He’s been there for you plenty of times, too. In your opinion, though, he’s the much more vulnerable one of the two of you, mainly to his cumbersome insecurities and shortcomings, however rare those shortcomings may be.

So in your mind, Mark Lee deserves the entire world and then some. The least you can do is share your apartment with him, either until he finds what you’re sure would be a much more desirable place to live, or if he wants to stay with you indefinitely.

What you don’t realize, and will eventually struggle to admit to yourself, is that your admiration for his perseverance and endless generosity is teetering rather precariously on the edge of blossoming into something more than just platonic.

“Sounds good, then. Thanks so much!” He had exclaimed, the sound of his pure excitement and gratefulness bringing a wave of heat to your face, and you were glad he wasn’t there in front of you to see it.

You talked a little bit more for the next few minutes, catching up and enjoying a lighthearted conversation about what you had both been up to. These sessions on the phone began to occur more and more frequently, turning into weekly, and soon daily, affairs. Mark planned to move in a couple weeks before school started again, giving himself some time to settle in and adapt to urban life in general. The calls became a highlight of your summer vacation, and every day without fail, you found yourself waiting to hear the unique ringtone you had set his contact to.

Less than twelve hours before Mark was scheduled to arrive at New York’s largest airport, you were on the phone with him just like always. The clock in your apartment chimed eleven o’clock, and as reluctant as you were to hang up, you knew you should turn in for the night. After all, the sooner you went to sleep, the sooner the morning would come. The morning you would meet him at the airport.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” His voice was hopeful. Slightly unsteady, but hopeful all the same.

“I guess so. What time does your plane land, again?” You confirmed the time you had scribbled down onto a neon yellow sticky note a few days earlier as he repeated the short string of numbers, nodding to no one in particular. Why did you feel so nervous? It’s just Mark, you had told yourself.

“Have a safe flight!”

He bade you goodnight in return, accidentally throwing in a “sweet dreams” before he could stop himself. When you put your phones down, you were both too busy trying to calm your racing pulses, however, so it didn’t matter. Mark collapsed onto his bed, hand bumping his duffel bag and heaving a sigh. You sank down into the couch cushion, closing your eyes and leaning your head against the back of the furniture. Neither of you could find the strength to stand in those moments, scared that your legs would give in from the unsteadiness of your nerves, your hearts, your emotions.

A singular worry occupied both of your minds from that point on until you greeted him in the JFK airport terminal the next morning, shy smiles on your faces: is it dangerous to enter into the impending situation of living together? Are you really ready to be in such constant close proximity to the object of your affections, however oblivious you might be to them?

Before his brain could talk his heart out of it, Mark had wrapped you in a tight hug, extra thankful for the welcome since you were all he had here, in the city. You wouldn’t have missed his arrival for the world, and you told him so. You also wouldn’t have missed the chance to make him flush a deep but adorable shade of red, reaching from his rounded cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears.

In your long-term rental car, you drove him back to your apartment, enjoying the quiet sounds of surprise and amazement that spilled from his lips, generated by the city’s sights. As you passed underneath towering skyscrapers, navigated bustling avenues, and caught glimpses of world-renowned landmarks that you both had seen only in the movies when you were younger, you just knew Mark’s eyes held their signature sparkle, despite your inability to see the dark brown orbs glimmer with wonder. You kept yours on the road ahead.

His first day was spent unpacking his suitcases and bags full of possessions, one of which was his most prized: an acoustic guitar.

It had been a gift from his parents when he finished the eighth grade, and all throughout high school, he had turned to music as an escape whenever he needed it. As any new musician does, Mark had played around with chords, experimenting and seeing what sounded good, and before you knew it he had composed a song. Another one followed, then another, and by the end of his freshman year he had written enough to fill an entire album if he so wished.

The guitar had heard every note, every lyric, carried every melody from his heart into the world. It had grown to be a part of him, a worldly sliver of his soul in the form of a simple musical instrument that could convey every hope and every dream, every concern or every frustration. Every love confession. Though that wasn’t saying much, since he only had eyes for you. You didn’t know it, but one of those songs was about you. For you.

You and Mark’s circle of friends tried to set you two up one day in the school’s band room after hours, with the excuse that the second-youngest of the group, Chenle, had forgotten his piano sheet music in there. They sent you to retrieve it, which you only agreed to do after being persuaded by the boy’s intimidating but still lovable pout.

With no sheet music in sight, your eyes landed instead on a diligent Mark that appeared to be the only sign of life in the room, plucking away at the strings as the sun set outside. You had sat with him for a while, neglecting your task and listening to him strum gracefully, softly murmuring lyrics that sounded like your name at one point. You didn’t think much of it, though, not making the connection behind the rest of the words coming out of his mouth and accompanying the chords. His love song was left unacknowledged by the subject of it themselves, and that was both the first and last time he ever attempted to confess to you.

He wondered if now that you were sharing an apartment, he would let something slip by accident. What would he do then?

University had other plans, though, and his fears were temporarily relieved. So fortunately and unfortunately, you were so occupied with schoolwork that trying to balance dating, or even mere thoughts of doing so, with all of your other responsibilities would have been exhausting, not to mention impossible.

Snapping out of your memory-induced daze, you realize that you nearly wandered off the path into a deep snowbank, only aware of this fact because Mark catches you by the wrist and pulls you back toward him to walk at his side. His fingers stay curled around your forearm as you approach a famous bridge, stepping to the side and gazing down at the icy waters below, calm and rippling with the chilly breeze.

“What do you want for Christmas?”

You honestly haven’t thought about it yet, so you can’t give Mark a definite answer. The same goes for him, both of you leaning against the brick railing in a comfortable silence.

In Mark’s mind though, he knows what he wants to give you: something to complement your own equivalent of his guitar, a large collection of handwritten letters and notes from your childhood and school days. Sentimental by nature, you had saved every colorful post-it note one of your friends would slip through the narrow slats of your locker, every birthday card received over the years, every thoughtful postcard from someone’s vacation.

Your favorites are undoubtedly the always-awkward Christmas cards that your friends’ families consistently mail out each December, by far the most humorous parts of your growing collection. You always found yourself chuckling at the pictures displayed on the front. Eyes bright with mirth, you would observe their forced smiles and arms slung carelessly over siblings’ shoulders, their eyes flickering between the camera and something going on behind it, probably the family pet getting into trouble across the yard. You pitied the photographers, surely beyond frustrated as they would try to get everyone to stand still for more than five measly seconds. Mouths were clamped shut and for a brief moment, the air was void of complaints of how itchy someone’s sweater was.

Then the camera would snap, capturing an image that was simply “good enough.” They’d plaster it on the card and in a few days, it would magically appear in the mailboxes of relatives and close friends. Grandparents would overlook the uncomfortable expressions and focus instead on how fast the kids were growing up. You didn’t blame them. Even in four years’ worth of cards, so much could change. In between fits of laughter, you’d stare in awe at the way your friends grew into their features, only becoming more handsome with time and some growing so tall that they even towered over their fathers. You always kept the letters they included, too, detailing the highlights of the year that was soon to come to an end by the time they dropped it into a nearby mailbox.

And like he could read your mind, Mark makes an offhand comment right then and there. “My folks texted me the other day to ask for our address. You know, for the Christmas card.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Shame I couldn’t be there for the family photos this year.”

“Is it really a shame, though?” You prod, tilting your head a bit at the boy. “You always told me you couldn’t stand waiting around for the so-called ‘right lighting’ and all that.”

“Well, I couldn’t, but now that I’m not there I wish I could go back to those days. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know?”

“Right,” you sigh, thinking about how the same saying could easily apply to the way you felt about Mark all throughout your first year of university.

You have a box, made of a dark mahogany wood and lined with elegant golden trim, where you keep all of these letters, these handwritten memories and souvenirs from some of the happiest moments in your life. A gift from a past Christmas, your family had your initials engraved onto the front in a loopy cursive font, making it truly unique and utterly irreplaceable. And, you’ll soon come to realize, valuable.

Mark remembers it well, remembers the many times you’ve shown him its contents, remembers how his eyes sometimes land on the delicate container resting beneath the windowsill in your room, sunlight catching the accents. He knows how much those letters mean to you, and he also knows how much you love returning the favor.

That’s why he wants to give you the tools you need to do just that, and to do it well.

You’ve always been one for writing thank-you notes for any and every gift you receive, your parents having ingrained the habit in you since you were very young. Slowly, crayons turned into pencils and lead became ink. To this day you remain unfazed by the increasing amount of yellowing papers residing in the letter box, but the words imprinted on them never quite fade, strong enough to withstand the test of time.

Too many times in high school Mark would find you, hunched over your dining room table in frustration with a stack of letters beside your arm that you deemed “failed” because your handwriting was bad, or something of the sort. Usually it was the other way around, him being the one in need of comfort, but on those days your roles were reversed.

He had always wondered why you didn’t have fancier supplies that were more suited to your task, but he supposes now that maybe it simply wasn’t an option for you and your family. So a stationery set seems like the perfect gift for you this year.

On a similar note, you’ve already decided what you’re getting him: a guitar case. You happened upon a sleek leather one while browsing the website of a popular music store, coincidentally with a location not too far from your apartment.

Now it’s no longer a question of what to get the other, but how. As university students living on your own, money is scarce. Unknowingly, you both contemplate this concern as you walk side by side, returning to the start of the path that you set out on at least a half hour ago.

This stroll of yours was supposed to clear your minds, but why are they racing even more than before?

There’s no time to worry now, though, and for the next week, your thoughts are forced to shift back to the topic of school and midterms and all your academic endeavors.

Your exam week is over before you know it, and the two of you return to your apartment after the last one only to collapse onto your respective beds, beyond exhausted.

The dreary Friday afternoon clearly calls for a nap, but unbeknownst to you, Mark decides to seize the opportunity that has so conveniently presented itself to him: a chance for him to go out and buy your gift without suspicion. He drops his backpack on the carpet next to his dresser and sighs, wondering if what he’s about to do will be worth it. But it’s you, of course it’ll be worth it.

Thus, his next move is done with a heavy heart. He’s been forced by a lack of funds to come to a decision about your gift, and a difficult one at that. The only thing he can think of doing to even come close to affording a nice stationery set is to sell some things in exchange for cash. Namely, the most valuable item he owns: his beloved guitar. He doesn’t really want to, but deep down he knows that a true friendship warrants the occasional sacrifice. He’s done some research on a nearby pawn shop, and however sketchy those kinds of places may seem, it’s his only feasible option at the moment, with just a week left until Christmas Day.

After making sure you’re fast asleep, he not-so-stealthily slips out of your shared flat, his actions far from silent but even so, you don’t wake up. Mark winces at the unintended high volume of pulling the front door shut behind him, sticking his hand into his jeans pocket and relaxing when he feels his keys at the bottom of the fabric compartment. Guitar strung over his shoulder by the flimsy, fraying strap, he sets off.

With his phone in hand and directions to the pawn shop displayed on the screen, he strides through the lobby of the apartment building and pushes the revolving door, stepping onto the busy sidewalk and into the cold winter air. Shoppers crowd the pavement with hands full of department store tote bags, crinkling loudly as they pass by one another. Shoulders knock together and heels click against the concrete, just some of the many sounds of the city that Mark is still growing used to hearing.

A few blocks and several wrong turns later, he finds himself on a quieter street, standing in front of the shop. It’s dimly lit inside and looks almost abandoned, the letters painted on the window chipped and faded from the wear and weather of past years. A soft bell rings when he lets himself in, searching for some sort of employee.

From behind a cluttered shelf a tall man emerges, the shabby name tag pinned to his vest reading “Johnny.” Well, he’s not some shifty-eyed, balding man wearing a muscle shirt stained with grease. New York continues to be full of surprises.

His dark hair looks neat, the jacket he’s wearing free of any wrinkles and face young but chiseled, high cheekbones prominent.

“How can I help you today?” Johnny booms, stepping behind the counter and absentmindedly sifting through some loose change in bottom of the cash register.

Mark gulps, “I’d like to sell something.” Still not entirely sure he wants to do this, he instinctively tugs on the strap resting atop the fabric of his wool jacket.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Johnny assures with a small laugh. “What did you have in mind?”

Taking a deep breath, Mark slides the guitar off his shoulder and holds it near his chest for a moment, before extending his arms out towards the counter.

“A guitar, huh? We don’t see many of these,” the tall man comments. “Are you sure? It seems pretty valuable to you in more ways than one.”

Mark’s fingertips trace the strings for the last time and he decides to just get it over with, before he can change his mind. His hands are shaky as he gently places the instrument down on the counter in front of Johnny, taking a step back once he’s done so. “I don’t have much of a choice. I need the money to buy a gift for my… uh, my friend.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow, “Just a friend? Or a special someone?”

“They are special,” Mark confirms, noncommittal to either title that Johnny suggested.

“They must be if you’re willing to give up something like this for them. Okay, that’ll be…”

Johnny tells him what the guitar is worth, matching the amount with a stack of cash and a few old coins, rusty but still holding their value.

Despite the pain of letting something so meaningful go, a bit of joy creeps into Mark’s heart as he realizes that now he can give you a gift that will hopefully become just as meaningful to you as his guitar was to him.

He thanks Johnny and bids him goodbye, step lighter than when he entered, much to his surprise.

It’s the next day when you and Mark find yourselves getting into the Christmas spirit for the first time this season. After he had returned yesterday, you were still out cold on your bed, so he chose to follow your example and do the same. The both of you had slept the rest of the day and almost the entirety of the following morning away, waking up just before noon.

With a sudden burst of energy you spring up from the sheets, overtaken by your excitement for the nearing holiday as you dig out the artificial Christmas tree you had bought last year from your closet. Sure, it may seem lazy of you, but let’s face it: there was no easy way to find a real one in New York City, let alone lug it down the streets, through an elevator and down a narrow hallway to a door it wouldn’t even fit through.

Mark hears the loud rustling of various decorations as he begins to stir, leisurely getting out of bed and checking one of his dresser drawers to make sure he hadn’t merely dreamed up his shopping adventure of the previous evening. There the stationery set sits, tucked safely at the back of the wooden cabinet.

The bookstore he stopped at on his way back last night had many different options to choose from, so he made sure to get one that both matched your box of letters and reminded him of you, with its color scheme and style. A surge of pride brings a smile to his features, pleased with his choice, and he pushes the drawer shut before joining you in the living area.

Your knees brush as he sits down next to you to help unpack the large but manageable box, taking out the tiers of the tree to eventually stack on top of one another. Working more quickly than usual (and probably necessary, there are six days left after all), you assign Mark to stringing the lights across your small balcony while you finish setting up the tree. You knew you shouldn’t have let him do it alone, though, because when you look over at his progress you find more lights wrapped around his body than the metal railing.

“Do you need a hand?” You question, holding back a laugh at the way the cord restricts his arm movements to the point where he can’t even reach for the handle on the sliding door.

From outside he opens his mouth to reply, but pauses, looking down at himself and the mess he’s made of the lights before meeting your eyes once more. His voice is muffled by the glass, but you hear him shout playfully, “I’m the tree now! We don’t need that one.” He tries to gesture to the one you’re currently decorating, but fails, and this time you aren’t able to contain your amusement.

“Let me help you,” you offer, joining him on the balcony and helping him untangle himself from the glowing strands. “Thanks,” Mark replies, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck. With your combined efforts, you manage to thread the string of lights through the railing with little to no mishaps, and both of you continue decking out the apartment with other seasonal items for the next several hours.

At some point during the afternoon one of you decided to connect their phone to a speaker and play some music, all Christmas songs of course. As the classic version of “Jingle Bell Rock” begins to blare throughout the living room, Mark abandons his task momentarily to walk over to you. He extends a hand down to you, sitting on the floor, and you accept the invitation to stand up with a questioning look.

“Dance with me?”

It’s hardly a platonic request, Mark realizes once the words leave his lips, but even so you don’t shy away, glancing down at your feet with a slight trace of bashfulness in the action.

He intertwines your fingers somewhat loosely, placing his non-dominant hand on your waist and beginning to sway, slowly at first but then his movements become more exaggerated, shoulders tilting dramatically to one side after the other and straying from the rhythm of the music. You join Mark in drawing out the jesting movements, losing yourself in laughter and leaning forward to bury your face in his shoulder, the heat of your breath hitting his skin through the thin t-shirt he’s wearing. In one last attempt to keep the joyful smile on your face, he steps back a bit and holds your wrist above your head to twirl you in a circle.

The electric guitar in the song fades as you collapse onto the carpet, recovering from your fit of giggles. The sun has begun to sink in the sky, you can tell by the gold and orange glow that your apartment becomes bathed in as it sets, inching closer to the horizon and eventually becoming hidden by tall skyscrapers in the distance.

Satisfied with your progress so far, you both decide to call it a day, though in truth there aren’t many decorations left to put out. A few stray ornaments and some garlands remain, still packed up in boxes that you would need help reaching. You’re also eager to get your mind off of the way your heart was palpitating as you danced with Mark, your roommate and friend but nothing more, nothing less. You have enough to worry about at the moment, not wanting to add potential feelings for the boy into the mix. Shit, you think, you still need to buy his gift.

“What should we watch?” Mark asks, scrolling through the list of movie choices on the TV screen.

“I don’t really care, anything’s fine.”

His finger presses a button on the remote to select a film at random, the intro playing as you scan the refrigerator shelves for a frozen meal. Hopefully it’s not one of those cheesy holiday romances.

Settling down on the couch a few minutes later, you with the warmed-up container in your lap and Mark holding a cup of ramen noodles, both of you fall into a comfortable chatter about the movie. Thank god it’s a comedy.

Occasionally you find yourself diverting your attention from the harsh display and directing it over to the panes of floor-to-ceiling windows, where you watch more and more lights flicker on in the distance, illuminating the urban landscape as night falls. The view is breathtaking, but so is the way your face softly glows with their warmth, even from blocks away. Not that Mark would ever tell you that, of course.

“I’m going out!” Mark hears shuffling from outside his bedroom the next morning, your voice instantly bringing him to his senses. Curious, he shoots out of bed and flings the door open to find you, one arm stuck through the sleeve of your coat and the other buried in a bag, but it’s not the one you usually bring when you leave the flat. Eyes wide and panicked at the boy’s unexpected appearance, you clutch it to your chest with a visible amount of difficulty, Mark notices.

“Where are you off to?” He squints at the brightness of the living room, the early morning light pouring in through the glass on the far wall.

“...Maybe I can’t tell you,” you respond with a huff, slinging the heavy bag over your shoulder and pulling the rest of your coat on.

“What do you mean, you can’t—oh.”

“Nice going, genius,” you shake your head, feigning disappointment. “It’s not like it’s Christmas this week or anything.”

“My bad, sorry.” Mark winces and rakes a hand through his bedhead, abashed.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?”

With that, you step into the hallway and offer a parting smile over your shoulder, shutting the front door behind you.

At least your being out of the apartment gives Mark time to wrap your gift. All he has to do is figure out how.

Johnny gets a familiar feeling when he sees you enter the pawn shop, fumbling with your things and reluctantly gazing at whatever’s in the tote you’re holding. Are you also about to make an exchange you could potentially regret?

“One second,” you excuse yourself as you step up to the counter, placing the heavy bag down and removing the large item from inside: your letter box, minus its contents. Of course you would never get rid of those, but despite the letters and notes being so special to you, the box they were always kept in is also a significant part of your attachment and the memories you hold dear.

With a thud you set it down, Johnny glancing between the hesitation on your face and the wooden container on the counter in front of him. “Let me guess, you want to exchange this for cash?”

“Yes, sir, that’s exactly what I—” You pause, biting your tongue. “Hold on… Look, I know this is a pawn shop and that’s what people do here, but how are you so sure?”

Johnny’s gut tells him he shouldn’t give away the fact that a boy wearing the very same expression and with the same sense of purpose and determination was in here just two days earlier. So he corrects his mistake with a simple “Lucky guess” and a hearty chuckle.

Without Johnny even asking, you tell him that you’re also looking for some extra cash in order to afford a gift for your “friend,” and you say the word with so much conviction and certainty that it’s almost laughable. The information given to Johnny helps him fully connect the dots in his mind, realizing that each of you are the one the other talked about.

Before handing you the money, Johnny tears off a sheet of paper from a nearby notepad and asks you to fill out your information, most importantly your address. He has to lie a bit, saying it’s for contact purposes, but his heart is in the right place nonetheless. Just in case something goes south (and the sinking feeling in his stomach tells him that it will somehow), doing so gives him an option, even if he doesn’t know what that option might be yet.

“Thank you, Johnny, and Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas!” He returns your wish cheerfully as you push the door open to leave.

“Good luck finding a gift for your ‘friend,’ too.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks when you see his teasing use of air quotes, but still smile.

On your way back to the apartment Mark texts you and asks you to check the mail, saying he forgot to do so yesterday. When you arrive in the lobby and make your way over to the cluster of mailboxes, you’re instantly shocked to find a large cardboard box shoved into the small cubby with your and Mark’s name on it. You’re already struggling to carry the guitar case you bought for him, so you decide to make a second trip later.

A few moments after stepping out of the elevator, you knock on the door to your apartment, hoping with all your might that Mark won’t actually open it and instead just answer with a “Come in” as he always does. Your wish is, thankfully, granted, but it’s quickly followed by “Wait, wait, wait!” As it happens, he just finished wrapping your gift and needs another minute or two to tuck it away somewhere until the big day arrives. “Can you stay out there until I say?”

“Sure,” you reply, “but I’m going to have to ask you to do the same.”

“How about I stay in my room while you come in and do… whatever you need to?”

“Sounds good.”

With his door closed, Mark hears the front one open and shut as you enter. Trying not to make any noise that would give away the size of the item you just bought, you finally settle for hiding the leather case underneath your bed, concealed by the drapery attached to its frame that hovers just above the floor.

Mark had hastily placed the now-wrapped (though not elegantly so) stationery set back into his dresser, so he’s already out of his room by the time you leave yours. “Any letters or packages?” He questions when he sees you.

“Oh, right!” You snap your fingers, “We do have a package but my hands were full, so I’ll bring it up right now.”

“Eggnog?”

While the box had looked fairly ordinary from the outside, upon opening it and glancing at the return address you learned it was actually anything but that. Mark’s and your parents had sent a holiday care package of sorts, including both of your families’ Christmas cards and a carton of eggnog, along with some small gifts that are meant to be saved for the morning of the 25th. Also mixed in are a few small decorations (not that you need more), some baking supplies complete with a copy of the recipe for the cookies you make every year, and a soft pair of mittens for each of you. He hopes you don’t realize that one of the items is a sprig of mistletoe.

“You don’t like eggnog?” You ask, stunned. Mark shrugs, “I don’t really care for milk but it’s the thought that counts, I guess.”

That evening you and Mark take another stroll, this time choosing to stay on the streets and admire the festively adorned buildings and shops as you pass by them. Admiring Christmas lights at this time of year is nothing new to you and Mark. In fact, when you lived in Canada you would do the same thing. The only difference is that back then, it involved driving through quiet suburban neighborhoods and not ambling through crowded city streets and alleyways on foot.

Snowflakes begin to cascade from the heavens as you make your way back around to the block where you live. Mark sticks his tongue out to catch one of the small crystals, and it immediately melts in his mouth, eliciting a high-pitched laugh from the boy. Snow is also something you both are more than used to by now, having grown up with white Christmases all your lives. It makes you wonder if the holiday season would be the same without it.

“You know what we should do?” Mark turns to you just as you’re about to enter the apartment building again. “Go ice skating at Rockefeller Center.”

“Mark, c’mon, you know stuff like that is overpriced. And besides, I can’t skate to save my life. Remember—”

“That time in sophomore year? You bet I do,” he laughs as he remembers how you clumsily fell not even two seconds after stepping onto the ice with your skates, and then refused to let go of the railing for the rest of the day. The elevator whirs to life, climbing floor after floor with ease.

“Hey,” you offer, “we can still go and watch people skate, I’m sure there’s some place to sit.”

“And we can look at the Christmas tree, too,” Mark adds, eyes brightening at the idea.

“Right. I forget you haven’t seen it in person before.” The cabin doors open with a ding and you step out, your eyes landing on the door to your apartment a few yards away.

When you turn on the TV, Mark becomes mesmerized by the movie that’s playing, since it takes place in NYC and he recognizes so many places from actually being there. He scrambles to remove his jacket and beanie, plopping down onto the couch once they’re safely hooked on the coat rack.

Watching him, you sigh. Would anything really change if you were dating? Assuming your feelings were returned, of course, but you can’t imagine that your relationship would differ much. You certainly wouldn’t go on extravagant dates, or buy expensive gifts for each other, but that’s not what love is about, anyway. With the exception of a few extra hugs and the addition of kisses, along with more forms of physical affection in general (actually, scratch that, Mark’s always been awkward with those kinds of things), you’d still be by each other’s side just like always.

As you sit down next to him and feel an arm wrap around your shoulder, you don’t shrug it off, instead embracing the warm and fuzzy feeling in your heart that you can’t blame on the holiday season this time.

Mark’s glad, too. He’s been working up the courage to do that all day.

Late that night, you quietly tiptoe into the living area, retrieving an old box from your move-in last year that will fit his gift perfectly, and won’t give away what’s inside. Your hands fold and tape the wrapping paper with care, tying a neat ribbon once you’re done. Sure, you had to give up something that meant a lot to you in order to afford Mark’s present, but the gains outweigh the losses. You find comfort in imagining the way his face will surely light up with pure joy on Christmas morning, drifting off to sleep with ease once you’ve hidden the rectangular parcel back underneath your bed.

A few days pass and soon it’s the 23rd, and you join Mark at the railing of the ice rink, of course on the side with solid ground. “Ice is solid ground,” Mark had corrected, but you stood firm in your words. “More like slippery ground, if you ask me.”

Luckily you had been allowed to stand here for free, because god only knows what small, simple thing someone would be charged for in New York. It’s happened to you before, and you’re not even a tourist.

Mark’s dark eyes gaze up at the 75-foot-tall tree in wonder, pupils dilating and reflecting the tens of thousands of bright lights strung through the dark green branches. They seem to sparkle with sheer amazement. Just then someone skates a little too close to the section of railing you’re leaning on, startling Mark out of his LED-induced daze and putting the most adorable look of surprise on his face.

His focus shifts to the people on the ice, wearing sweaters and jackets of every color imaginable, and the sight is still as beautiful as the looming Christmas tree above. He notices some couples, holding onto one another or skating hand-in-hand, and it makes him wonder if that could be you two someday, at a future Christmas, or if it’s an idea absurd enough for an alternate reality.

Mark sees you shiver out of the corner of his eye, and it’s his cue to suggest returning home for the evening. In a very cliché and boyfriend-esque gesture he offers you his jacket, but you decline, insisting that it’s not far and assuring him that you’ll be okay.

Back in your heated flat, you twist open the lid of the eggnog carton and pour a small glass for yourself. “Are you sure you don’t want some?” You call out to Mark from the kitchen, snatching one of the cookies you made the other day and finding a paper plate for the thin shortbread wafer, lined with elegant white icing and dusted with sprinkles.

“I already told you, I don’t like eggnog!”

“Have you even tried it before?” Mark grumbles at your nagging. You really sound like his mom right now.

“No…”

You appear at the other end of the couch, holding out a small cup with just a sip or two of eggnog in it. “Try it. You never know.”

He knows you won’t leave until you see him lift it to his lips for yourself, so he does. Immediately the sweet drink overwhelms his taste buds, and also leaves a slight sting on his tongue.

“What’s in this stuff?” He coughs, nose scrunching a bit from the strong taste. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t hate it. Following you back to the kitchen, Mark pours a full glass this time, already gulping it down.

“Uh,” you scan the ingredients on the back of the carton once he sets it down on the counter, “milk, cream, sugar, eggs…”

“...whiskey? What the hell?”

“It has alcohol,” Mark slurs, his giggling interrupted by a hiccup. Having never drank before, he’s undeniably a lightweight, and even a little bit can get him wasted almost instantly.

“Mom and Dad must have mixed something up, because they definitely didn’t mean to send us alcoholic eggnog.”

Sure enough, back home in Canada your parents are wondering why they only have the kid-friendly stuff in their fridge.

Mark latches on to you, arm curling lazily around your waist. Great, he’s one of those people that gets clingy when they’re drunk. “Try some,” he whines, nuzzling into your shoulder a little.

“Are you crazy?”

“No one will know,” he laughs, hiccuping again. Giving in to his adorably drunken pout, you take one sip from your original glass but no more, an unpleasant buzz taking over your whole mouth.

Not looking forward to finding a hangover cure on Christmas Eve of all days, you pray that you’ll stay sober enough to take care of the tipsy boy, who’s currently pressing his face into the back of your neck and—shit, did he just kiss you there? You really don’t need this right now.

“Mark, you’re drunk, okay? Stop it,” you caution.

“But I love you,” he murmurs, warm breath fanning your skin, and you want to kick yourself for almost saying it back. Does he even mean it, though? Alcohol makes people say crazy things, things they don’t mean, so you shouldn’t get your hopes up. You unhook his arm from your torso and turn around to push against his chest, frustrated. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He seems to have just remembered something, because he ignores you and instead goes over to where the care package was still sitting, digging into the bottom and pulling out something you hadn’t noticed before. “Look,” Mark declares in a nasal voice, “mistletoe.”

You exasperatedly hang your head, desperate to slam it into the nearest wall. With much difficulty, you eventually manage to get him tucked underneath the blanket, leaving a glass of water on his nightstand for when he wakes up. “Get some sleep,” you say simply.

He tells you goodnight with a fond mumble of your name as you shut the bedroom door behind you. Rubbing your eyes, you yawn before turning off the lights and heading to bed yourself, trying to block out the events that had just taken place.

Your head aches when you wake up the next morning, and you feel like garbage, so you can only imagine how much worse Mark must be doing. Quickly chugging a water bottle, you reluctantly go to knock on his door, hearing a pained groan once you enter. He’s sitting up, chin resting in one hand and the other anchored onto the heavy comforter covering his legs.

“How are you feeling?” The obvious question with an even more obvious answer makes Mark wince. “Awful.”

“Sorry.” It’s silent for a moment, Mark pressing three fingers to his throbbing forehead and you staring aimlessly at the wall. “I knew that eggnog was a bad idea.”

“You were the one that told me to try it!”

“I didn't know it had alcohol in it!”

You sigh, dejected. Something tells Mark that your head isn’t the only thing hurting.

“Hey, I know that look. What’s wrong?” He prods, voice soft and gentle and altogether unlike how it had been last night. You meet his eyes for a moment, about to speak but biting your lip at the last second. Mark’s brain puts two and two together at your expression.

“Oh god, did I say something? Do something?”

“Yeah, actually,” you reply in a huff. “First you kissed my neck, then you told me you loved me, and then you held up a clump of mistletoe and implied that we should kiss underneath it.”

His memories of the previous evening are all a blur, so he truly would have no idea what happened if you hadn’t just said something. Mark knows he screwed up, bad.

You tense when you feel him place his hand over yours, but you don’t snatch it away. After collecting his thoughts, Mark clears his throat.

“Look, I… I know that’s not the best way for you to find out how someone feels about you. But I’m completely sober, and I can tell you that I meant what I said last night.”

“You promise?”

“Promise,” Mark replies.

“...Can you say it again, then?”

He blushes, “That I…?”

You nod, the corners of your lips lifting into a small smile.

“I love you,” Mark tells you for the second time in the last 24 hours, but this time you know you can believe him. The pain of your hangover goes away for a moment as he takes your jaw in his hands and connects your lips, just barely retaining the buzz of the alcohol but not enough to bother you. Slowly you kiss him back, sinking down onto the mattress beside him.

Mark pulls away for air a few seconds later, thumb grazing your cheek lovingly. “Does this mean we’re—”

“Dating? If you want it to, then sure,” your finger traces swirly shapes on the small of his back while you assure him that neither of you need to rush into anything if you aren’t ready.

“I don’t want things to change, though.”

“Who said they have to? I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and we’re already pretty close, you know? Making it ‘official’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘different,’ so...”

Mark hums in agreement, “You’re right. Okay, I can live with that.”

“And I can’t live another second without food. I’m making breakfast,” you quip, reverting back to the usual banter between you and him.

“I’ll cook the eggs,” Mark insists as you both make your way out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.

“You absolutely will not!”

The night before Christmas had started out unlike any that you’d ever experienced before, with you confronting your now-boyfriend about a drunken love confession the previous day. But now, it’s ending just like every year, with you cozy and curled up in front of the television as the last few segments of the news play.

It’s the coldest Christmas Eve in years. You learned this after the meteorologist had informed viewers of the record only a few minutes earlier, inadvertently planting an idea in Mark’s mind.

Right as you’re about to turn in for the night, setting a plate of decorated cookies and a glass of milk down on the end table (as is tradition in your families, no matter how old you are), Mark holds out his arms like a child might. “Can we…?” He asks in a quiet voice, nervous to finish his sentence.

“Huh?”

The boy inhales sharply, “It’s freezing. Do you wanna sleep in my bed tonight?” His cheeks flush a deep red that’s almost the color of Christmas itself.

You’re slightly taken aback, and then you remember it’s just Mark. “Sure, why not,” you answer with a light shrug and a smile on your face.

“But no funny business,” you inform him as you climb under the sheets together, instantly happy with your choice to join him because double the people means double the body heat. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mark replies, pecking your lips. His wrist finds the warm skin of your neck and you flinch away.

“Your hands are cold!” He just snickers at your whining.

The two of you fall asleep more quickly than you ever have on Christmas Eve, usually overcome with nerves and excitement, but now, as two college-aged kids, you’re comfortable and not rushing the morning’s arrival at all, content in each other’s arms for the moment.

You feel like you’re 10 years old again as you rush into the living room at 8am the next day, the bright, early morning sky lighting up your entire apartment. At the base of your Christmas tree sits a humble amount of presents, composed of the two that you bought for each other plus the half-dozen small ones from your parents.

You hand Mark one of the cookies from the end table and grab one for yourself, taking a bite of the sweet treat as you sit down and motioning for him to do the same.

“Open yours first,” you say eagerly, referring to your gift for him. Mark shakes his head and points to what he got you, “No, you go first.”

“Fine, we’ll open them at the same time.” Mark nods, satisfied with the compromise and handing you both the packages.

“On three. One, two…”

The final number barely leaves your lips before you both begin tearing into the paper excitedly, Mark reaching for the flaps on the box and you unfolding the tissue paper.

When you each see what the other gifted you with, it’s completely silent, save for the TV playing a Christmas Day special in the background.

He gazes blankly at you, licking his lips as his eyes dart between the guitar case and your expression.

“I appreciate the gift, but I…” Mark pauses, unsure how to tell you this.

You don’t say a word, raising your eyebrows as a signal for him to continue.

“I sold my guitar to pay for your gift,” he breathes.

“You what? Mark, that guitar means everything to you! Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re worth it, of course!”

“Well, I did the same thing,” you break the news with an unamused expression. “I sold my letter box to pay for that case.”

His eyes become impossibly wider at that, nearly bulging out of their sockets. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

You groan and lie down on the floor, beyond discouraged. “Let me guess, the pawn shop on 23rd?”

“Yep.”

“Hey, wait a minute.” An idea hits Mark like a rush of cold air. “Maybe we can work out a deal or something.”

“Meaning?”

“We go back and see if we can trade in our new gifts for enough money to get our old things back.”

“One, I doubt it’s that easy, and two, pretty much everything is closed on Christmas Day.” You’re half tempted to laugh because of how ironic this situation is.

Mark sighs, “I guess that makes sense.”

“We can still try, though.”

Sure enough, the pawn shop is dark, even more so than usual, and the door doesn’t budge. A sign taped to the window from the inside confirms your fear: Closed on Christmas. Gloved hands pressed onto the glass, you and Mark admit your defeat. You had been bested by the giving spirit of the holiday season, almost too generous for your own good.

But it’s the message that the day itself stands for after all, for putting aside material value and doing something out of the kindness of your heart just to make someone else happy. That’s what it’s all about, and you and Mark had personally experienced it this year.

So you’re surprised to find two boxes leaning on the wall beside the door to your apartment the next morning, shapes oddly familiar. Could it be?

Just hours earlier, the hallway surveillance cameras caught a tall man striding down the corridor, carrying those exact packages under his arms. In the video he pulls out a scrap of paper and a pen from his coat pocket, scribbling a short message before tucking it underneath the ribbon of the larger parcel and leaving the building just as quickly as he came.

You and Mark’s only clue as to who had returned your items is a messy ‘J’ at the end of the note attached to the box containing his guitar. Exchanging knowing glances, you both grin, squeezing your intertwined hands with the same name in mind.

...So what if Johnny had to take a bit of money out of his own paycheck to cover the cost of the items? Besides, it’s Christmas. And his boss never has to know.

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arcadianstuff · 3 years

Text

School rivals p.t 7

This is a long one ! I honestly have no idea how many parts this is going to have but I’ll make a master list for my works so far if you guys want ? Anyways enjoy !!

"Hope you don’t mind love." You could practically hear the smirk in Douxie’s voice as his arms circled around your waist, the intimate touch brining a blush to your cheeks. Thankfully, Douxie couldn’t see it. Sat behind you on your motorcycle, he was oblivious to the way your cheeks had reddened.

"Not at all Casperan," you tried to brush off the growing warmth inside your stomach and smirked as you took off down the street,"hold on tight !"

The wind rushed past you both, it’s cold touch sending chills down your spine as the feeling of flying had you hollering a little. Perhaps you could’ve been quieter given that the town of Arcadia was just starting to come alive in the early morning. Mr. Benoit's cafe was opening to feed the morning commuters and caffeine deprived college kids. A couple of high schoolers littered the streets, clearly not excited at the prospect of attending morning lessons.

Three said high schoolers shot you and Douxie withering glares as they trudged up the steps of Arcadia High school.

"No fair Jimbo, (Y/n) and Douxie get to go off on an adventure and we have senor uhl's Spanish tests first thing." Toby wailed, wallowing in his own self pity before stuffing a Nougat Nummy in his mouth. It wasn’t the best breakfast.

Jim had been focused on the retreating forms of his sister and Douxie but spun around, face paling at Toby words.

"What do you mean a test ?!" At his distressed yells, Claire giggled a little and pat her boyfriend sympathetically on the back.

"Come on boys. I’ll try and help you study in the like...20 minutes we have before class ?" The two said boys just grumbled gratefully at her offer, and the three kids trudged up and into the school, overwhelmingly envious of you and Douxie who’d escaped the clutches of the American education system.

It made you giggle a little that Douxie was clutching a little tighter to you as you sped down the streets, heading towards the canal where Blinky had told you to meet him. Again you became acutely aware of the warmth emitting from Douxie, the feeling of his breath on your neck not helping to keep your blush down

In those moments before you reached the canals, you contemplated the way your relationship with Douxie had changed. Only a week ago the two of you had been enemies, or at least disliked each other. Annoying each other, always trying to one up the other or get a good dig in. And yet here you were, his arms around you as w began the adventure that you’d felt like you’d been waiting for your entire life. Maybe without the murderous ancient spirits and weird glowing trolls.

Things were changing. You just hoped you could adapt fast enough.

At least Arcadia didn’t seem so boring as it once did, in fact you didn’t feel the same longing to escape the confinements of the tiny town you’d grown up in. Maybe....just maybe you might call this place home a little bit longer.

Hidden under the shade of the bridge, you spotted one hulking form and another much smaller one. With a roar from your bike, you came to a stop next to them giving Douxie a fright at the sharpness of the stop. Said wizard looked a little paler than usual as he dismounted your bike. In fact he almost looked like he was going to be sick.

"Oh don’t be such a baby my driving’s fine." You rolled your eyes at the wizard's behaviour who just gave you a flabbergasted look.

"You drive like a bloody mad man love." Douxie retorted, feeling a little shaky as he approached the two trolls. Luckily, the enjoyment he’d felt at wrapping his arms around you had dulled the fear of your reckless driving. Thank god your mum and never seen you on your bike because she’d smash it to pieces if she saw the way yiu drove.

"Ah yes miss (Y/n) and Hisirdoux." Feeling the growing tension and sensing an oncoming argument, Blinky decided to interject quickly, very aware of the time pressure enough were under. He needed to get you both to the sword as soon as possible.

"Hey big guy." You smiled up at Aargh who waved one of his yeti sized hands at you, a smile lighting up his face. You’d take a liking to the pacifist.

"Hello sister of Jim." He responded, waving at Douxie as well.

"Okay no time for formalities I’m afraid. We don’t have much time if what you, miss (Y/n), are saying is true." The happy atmosphere between friends was shattered at the troll's serious demeanour, his eyes hard. Yet again you were reminded of the severity of your situation, the pressure beginning to weigh you down.

With a sharp nod, you matched the troll's serous expression with your own, brows furrowing as the troll pulled out a decaying sheet of paper. The ancient scroll rolled out into a fading map, which you quickly realised was of Arcadia.

"Here you will find Excalibur," Blinky pointed to a spot not to far from your current location the group of you peering down at the map,"but I warn you (Y/n), if you pull that sword from the stone you will have a responsibility that you cannot shed."

For a second you met the eyes of the wise old troll. Blinky had his doubts at first about you, he’d been aware of your existence much like he’d been aware of Barbara's, except you’d never met them like she had. But you’d managed to survive against all odds, and clearly had a will of steel. He just hoped you had it in you to face what was coming next.

"Thank you, both of you." You smiled up at the two, before departing, Douxie again thanking them as he followed you from out under the bridge and into the sunlight.

There was obvious signs of tension that hadnt been there before, like the way your shoulders were tensed and your hands had balled into fists, nearly crushing the map you held in one of them.

He wanted to say something, anything to comfort you. When had he gone from insulting you to ranting to comfort you ? Honestly, he had no clue.

Clearly, the two of you weren’t aware of the fine line between love and hate.

————————————

"Are you sure about this love ?" The wizard glanced between you and the shining silver emerald of the sword not to far from you. His question was laced with worry as he watched you stare at the weapon with unreadable eyes.

It’s golden hilt shone in the sunlight, practically glowing like a firefly. Douxie repeated his question but it fell on deaf ears. It was like a glass dome had descend upon you, blocking out everything except you and the sword. Yiu couldn’t feel the wind on your face nor hear the chirping of the birds hidden in the trees. There was only you and the sword which drew you in like a lot to a flame.

Tiny, undeterminable whispers began to fill the air as you moved closer to the sword, growing in volume with every step you took. With wide eyes Douxie watched you appraoch the swor,d almost as if yiu were in a trance.

"Love ? (Y/n) w-wait !" The wizard lunged for you, to pull you back away form the sword, but it was too late.

A blast of light threw the man backwards, his back colliding hard with the grass. His body racked with coughs as he pushed himself up, swearing at the sharp pain that shot up his sides. But the swears died on his lips as his gaze fell on you.

The moment your hand wrapped around the sword it felt like everything was right. A power you’d never felt before rushed through your body, lighting your veins on fire as with ease you pulled the sword from the stone. A feat Jim hadn’t been able to compe,the but you had.

Excalibur was yours to wield.

"Excalibur is yours now child. Do better than I. Bring honour to the Pendragon bloodline., something I could not." The whispers finally took form onto a distinguishable voice, that of a man's.

"A-Arthur ?" Your question was never answered, and you were left to stare at the sword in your right hand in both horror and wonder.

It was surprisingly light for such a strong looking weapon, and the blade gleamed dangerously as it caught the sun. With an experimental swing, you sliced through the air the move to feeling as natural as holding the sword did. This made sense. The weapon, the magic it all felt right to you. Maybe this sienhat you’d been searching for so long.

A smirk lifted the corners of your lips as yiu souna round to face the flabbergasted wizard, who stared at you in of wonder, awed at the sight before him.

"So what do you think ? Am I a knight in the making ?" You joked, laughing a little as you teasingly pointed the tip of the sword at Douxie's chest who merely smirked back at you and gently pushed the sword to the side.

"I wouldn’t quite say so yet. Would you like a little training ?" He asked cockily, enjoying the look of surprise on your face as his wizard's staff materialised in his hand. Sometimes you forgot that the man was a powerful wizard.

Your smirk grew and you placed both hands on the sword, taking a defensive stance to which the wizard mirrored you. Like a stand off scene in an old western movie, you glared at each other waiting in anticipation to see who’d make the first move.

Of course you did, taking the boy by surprise as you rushed him, swinging the sword in one hand whilst kicking out a leg to knock him over.

Thankfully, Douxie hadn’t exactly been lazing about the last nine hundred years, and with practiced ease he deflected. A loud clash of weapons sent the birds hidden in the surprising trees up into the air, whilst Douxie used his other hand to grab your extended keg that had been aimed at his side, to push you off balance. With a cry of surprise you fell to the floor, letting out a squeak as you rolled to the side to avoid Douxie’s wizard staff.

"Are you trying to kill me casperan ?." You shot him a nasty glare, sprinting up to your feet. If you hadn’t dodged his attack he’d have torn into your shoulder.

However the wizard didn’t even look a tiny bit guilty and instead shot you an easy grin, twirling his staff in an effort to show off.

"Seems more like you can’t keep up with me. It’s okay love maybe you should stick to soccer." He quipped, sniggering a little at the way yiur face turned red from rage.

With a small war cry you rushed the boy again, not faltering in your onslaught of attacks, dodging and parrying him with the skills of someone who’d been wielding a weapons for decades. There was no doubt about it. You were descended from knights and magical beings.

Douxie's eyes widened in slight worry as he started to struggle to keep up with you, the tide of the battle was beginning to shift. Neither of you paused for a meonnt and slowly you began to back Douxie up, who started retreating backwards as you became to difficult to oppose. A victorious smirk crossed yiur face as the boys back hit the bark of the tree behind him, which you’d backed him up to effectively rendering him defenceless. He had no where to run and you could tell he knew he’d lost. Your grin only grew as he swore.

"Give up Casperan ?" Your sword was pressed against his staff, the two weapons shaking with the pressure you both were applying. You tried to push it down, out of the away, whilst Douxie was trying to shove you back, give himself some space to defend himself. There was mere inches between the both of yin and he could see the gleam of victory in your eyes.

Douxie knew what he was going to do next would piss you off beyond belief. Which is exactly why he did it.

"Not quite yet love." You didn’t have time to react as the wizards free hand came up, the cuff on his wrist glowing with a bright blue as a ball of energy there you off of him.

With a thud you hit the ground, not to hard but your pride was still bruised as the wizard smirked down at you. Yiu recsne door yiur sword, ready to basically butcher the i furnishing wizard, except your hand was met with empty air as yiu looekd sirens anxiisjlt for yiu wepoan.

"Oh, looking for this love ?" His condescending tone had you scrambling to your feet and rushing the taller wizard as he held the sword up and out of your reach.

"Oh come on Casperan don’t be such a duck." You grumbled, infurtsted as you jumped up to try and reclaim your weapon which he held up and out of your reach. "Seriously how old are you ?"

"Well I’m about 919, give or take a few years." The wizard jokingly said, biting back laughter as he watched dying fail again and again at reaching the spa on. Thank god for the slight height difference between the two of you.

However you suddenly stopped, an incredulous look on your face.

"Wait hold up. You’re 919 ? How is that possible ?"

The man only shrugged in response to your question, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Magic love.” He teased you, laughing as you rolled your eyes.

A part of you felt this sense of sympathy for Douxie. You’d no idea he was so old, and instead of being shocked at his age because of its abnormality you felt sad for him. How lonely to have lived so long.

Noticing the way your brows were furrowing in thought Douxie felt the atmosphere shift, no longer playful and lighthearted. It seems like your little training session was over. He lowered your sword to his side, offering the hilt of the sword to you.

Gaze flickering between him and the outstretched hilt, you gently wrapped your hand around the weapon. Though you’d had it mere minutes the blade felt so right in your hand.

There’s always been something you were searching for and maybe now you were starting to find it. Not in leaving and going far away but here. This was your destiny.

“Tell me about Merlín.” Your demand caught Douxie completely off guard, startling him further when you smiled at him and sat down.

Patting the grass next to him, you watched the dumbfounded wizard plop down beside you. He was come play taken a sack by your sudden friendly behaviour. This was new territory for the both of you.

“If you what tell me about your life...I know we weren’t on the best of terms but...maybe we can be friends ?” Eyes focused on the blade in your hands, you missed the way Douxies eyes widened comically to saucers.

This was followed by a lopsided grin as he felt the last bits of ice between you two thaw.

“I’d like that a lot.”

—————————-

Another part done ! I realise I’ve gone off track in terms of following the TV series plot but I hope that’s okay. Their new enemy and the storyline will be linked to what happens in the show. Stay tune for next chapter when we learn more about the new foe !!

#douxie x reader #trollhunters #douxie #tales of arcadia #toa #hisridoux casperan #hisirdoux casperan x reader #x reader #toa wizards

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hag-rambling-on · 3 years

Text

Winx Club HC’s

MUSA

HalfHighElf HalfDwarf

Physically identical to her mother, there are certain hairstyles that Musa avoids like the plague so as not to look like her because it makes her sad.

She wears short hair in her memory.

Has a fanclub in Alfea.

Not at the level of the series, but she goes through a certain tomboy to a little more feminine but still. Still. Pants, pants, pants.

She shouldn't, but she started working as soon as she was allowed to, combining with her studies.

Addicted to caffeine.

It is not known if she is hyperactive, it is the caffeine or that energy spike before you pass out that keeps her on her feet, vibrating.

Seriously, she needs to stop to breathe for a moment. She is too focused, somewhat obsessed: school-work-music and repeat. Luckily the Winx are as or more stubborn than she.

Queen of the mnemonic rules.

Your head is as good as any other percusion instrument in her hands so be careful and do no touch her girls.

TECNA

Trans!Woman

You can be a true girl AND wear pants or even look totally a boy if you like. Fight me.

Tallest!Cuddliest!

Of course, it's a matter of Tecna first allows you.

The best, healthiest self-esteem of the group.

Curiously few people have seen her eat out scheduled times. but has no food problems.

She rambles/talks very softly to herself when she is thinking, most people don't hear it. Musa jokes that it is the sound of a computer -since their technology is pretty advanced and muted- processing data. It’s cute.

Roots of giants (like most of the people of Zenith and Titania, Xemia things) also elf and human.

She is good at reverse engineering and it is her primary method of learning. Which gives her trouble in class because go a bit slow in learning.

She knows how to weave (have you seen the images of computer cables from before? Well, that's why)

FLORA

The strongest fist. If you have ever moved plants, you will understand why.

For some reason, she only can take care of fruiting plants without killing them with support of magic. But the most delicate flowers? She is great with them.

Another cuddly trans!woman.

Miele begin nicknamed her Flora and she is the one who has supported her the most. The rest is history.

On the other hand, Miele is also responsible for Flora not having a partner until Helia. Little fighting guard dog with high standards.

The most feminine girl in the universe

Also has a fanclub in Alfea (Mirta joins in it)

Pure human!girl.

Try to convince Musa to switch to teas and try a more relaxed way to live.

Spices! cook with too many spices for the health of the tongues of the rest of the girls.

The most stubborn of the group, fortunately usually agrees with the rest.

BLOOM

Ariadne of Domino. Marion is/was a witch, if anyone understands new names meanings, they are the witches, so even though something hurt, she agreed to call her Bloom and Oritel had to join.

Eating problems. But, as non-mental, biological. She was born and spent two years in an environment with food and magical atmosphere, then she was abruptly cut off. Bad for growth.

Morgana cast a protective spell on her as soon as she stepped on Terra.

Not at all but guilty that Morgana left her family

AnxietyTM

She had a stroke, literally fainted after the "I'm the protag" moment with Daphne and Domino revelation.

The best moment of her life is realizing that: a princess but not ever a regent queen (still working final ships if it is for Bloom, run aways royalty)

3/4 human 1/4 leprechaum.

With the reappearance of Domino and the return of Daphne, she began to learn to use her own power and not just the Dragon Flame. So she changes to Fairy of Flames and continued building her self.

A bit scared of Flora at first.

AISHA

Layla it’s actually the name of her double/maid. Who the winx do not get to know until later btw. But thanks to the one who she can afford so much time for sports (as long as she masters the "royal duties" in record time).

She is pretty good with clothes, between her and Layla she quickly learned the best ways to hide her physical form from her parents.

Sports give her a sense of control over herself and her situation, which is why she is so competitive.

Most of the merfork is somewhat cute-clumsy on land. That says a lot about Aisha, who is also considered one of the most graceful creatures underwater.

PTSD

Mostly mermaid. Bit of dark elf.

Good night vision.

She wears a charm to prevent dehydration, yet she still has humidifiers in her room and takes regular baths. Charms don't feel right.

No children do not appear in the world of nobility and political society in my rewinxing until a certain age (HORROR!). Royalty usually grows/studies among “commoners” with another name until 16 or even 18, then they “appear” in society. Stella appeared in society at 16 as a "go to hell" to all those who mistreated her. Aisha did not, her debut was to be with her "university/college" education, so it was between her debut season she also gets her socialite debur. Her family is that closed.

STELLA

She started out as a Fairy of the Sun and the Moon. Then it changed to Fairy of the Stars.

She doesn't need as many hours of sleep as a normal person.

Bulimia. She got over it, it was the stress of the parents and the attacks of the school. Her weight always remained somewhat plump and at last, proud ot it (I love the idea of the Winx being a cuddle bunch).

Pure high elf.

She calls the colors for the 7 colors of the rainbow for simplicity and don't drive her aquaintances crazy, you never hear her call “teal” a color but “blue green or green blue” but her vision allows her to distinguish each hue and shadow to the point that her parents thought she had a vision disturbance as a child because "no, those two are NOT the same color” "Stella dear, both are the Same Blue" "Daddy! Are you blind?"

Many tailors hated her until she met a stubborn solarian seamstress with light magic and similar ability, that's where her love for textiles and colors was born.

This has also given her trouble in class. Like, kaboom problems.

#winx club #rambling about winx #winx rewrite #winx #rewinxing #rewinxing dump #winx stella #winx aisha #winx bloom #winx flora #winx tecna #winx musa #winx hcs

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marvelslut16 · 4 years

Text

Magic

Pairing: Santana Lopez x reader

Synopsis: (Y/N) has been in love with Santana since you met her. Now that your a senior and she is off in college your friendship had faded. When she comes home to steal Brittany back from Sam, or that’s what (Y/N) thinks anyway, will they restrengthen their friendship or will it turn into more?

Word count: 2,805

Warnings: None I think. Talk of being turned on, if that’s a warning.

A/N: Happy pride month everyone! I got carried away and no one’s even gonna read it since glee hasn’t been relevant for five years, lmao I love that for me. Takes place during S4 E13 (Diva), and as much as I love Brittana, my love for Santana is stronger and I indulged myself with this. Bold words are lyrics.

You're scrolling through your timeline as Finn starts talking about diva’s and the loch ness monster. You’ve been in a funk the past week, you’re best friend Santana Lopez hasn’t texted you back. It’s not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, you just wonder if you said something to upset her during your last phone call. You’re a year younger than Santana, but you two immediately bonded when she recruited you for the troubletones. The problem is that she isn’t just your best friend, you’re in love with her too. But you can never compete with the bond Santana and Brittany have.

While you aren’t out like either of the aforementioned girls, you aren’t necessarily in the closet either. It’s no one’s business but your own, it doesn’t affect anyone else, so you feel no need to share. However, your new best friend Kitty figured it out, she saw you checking out a girl when you two went shopping. Kitty fully supports you, and it’s nice to be able to talk to someone about your feelings for both Santana and in general.

Kitty leans over your shoulder to see what you're aggressively scrolling through, to see you whizzing past every post too quickly to actually read anything. You're about to make a comment to her about minding her own business, not that you care if she’s snooping or not, when something Finn says catches your attention.

“All the way from Louisville,” the former quarterback introduces, your head snaps up to look at him. “Give it up for Miss. Santana Lopez.”

You immediately straighten in your seat in the back row, Kitty looks at you as you stare at the shut door knowing how much the Latina loves to make an entrance. You see Brittany’s back become as straight as a board, no doubt nervous that her ex-girlfriend shows up right after she starts dating Sam.

Santana throws the door open and gives a little wave, she’s dressed in her new cheerleading uniform and her hair is straightened and down. You didn’t know it was possible, but she’s somehow more attractive than the last time you saw her, just a few months ago.

Your eyes rack over her figure as she starts to thrust her hips to the beat of Nutbush city limits. You don’t care if anyone notices your hungry stare, too wrapped up in the fact that Santana is right there in front of you again. All of the guys are getting into the song, the girls cheering on Santana and the group of cheerleaders she brought along with her. You gulp as Santana puts her leg in the air, and shakes her hips that way.

You glance at Kitty to see if she’s watching you still, she isn't. She’s leaned back in her seat, her arm resting on the back of your chair, unimpressed with the show Santana is putting on. When your eyes make their way back to your former best friend, her brown eyes are already on you. You're enraptured by the way Santana’s hips move to the beat, you can’t take your eyes off of her for the remainder of the song. You sink back into your seat as Brittany gets up to greet Santana at the end of the performance, Santana doesn't even glance your way.

“Santana, that was simply the greatest moment in show business history,” the ex girlfriends high five. “But how come you didn’t tell me you were coming to town? (Y/N), did she tell you?”

“Uh,” Kitty leans in closer to your chair for support as the glee club turns to look at you. “No, she didn’t.”

“You know, I think the better question is,” Sanatana ignores that you even spoke, directing her words to Brittany. You sink further into your seat and into Kitty’s friendly embrace. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating Sam? Oh, and before I forget, allow me to introduce my backup, and my girlfriend, Elaine. And by girlfriend I mean, out and proud, lipstick-loving, AfterEllen-reading, girlfriend.”

Your breath catches in your throat as Santana kisses the pretty brunette to her left. Kitty looks at you concerned as you go back to staring at your phone. Instead of aggressively scrolling this time around, you stare sadly at the picture of you and Santana from her graduation day, which has been your homescreen since it was taken. Sanatana is standing with her arms wrapped around you in a hug, her red gown still on her, you're wearing her red cap and you both are staring at the other, laughing at the joke she had just told you.

Luckily the bell rings almost immediately after the kiss, you shoot out of your seat and bolt out of the room. Kitty quickly trails after you, sending a glare Santana’s way as she passes her. Instead of heading to the cafeteria, lunch is your next period, you head to the auditorium. You don’t know why, it just feels like the right place to go. Kitty is ten steps behind you, by the time she enters the auditorium you're overdramatically laying on the stage, your legs hanging over the edge at the knee.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kitty asks. You know she doesn’t really mean it as a question, it’s more of a request that you talk about it.

“I don’t want to,” you whine, keeping up with your antics by throwing your arm over your eyes.

“If you don’t want to talk about it,” Kitty kicks the edge of the stage. “Sing about it.”

“Okay Mr. Schue,” you move your arm from your face and roll your eyes at the blonde.

“I’m being serious,” the skirt of her cheerleading uniform bounces as she flounces up the stairs to the top of the auditorium. “I’ll sit up here, you won’t be able to see me, and just sing it out.”

You know she’ll nag until you do what she says, so you huff and stand up. You take a deep breath, brush the dust of your clothes, and start singing. When you first open your mouth you don’t know what song you’re going to sing, but the words to every little thing she does is magic by the police leave your lips.

Though I've tried before to tell her. Of the feelings I have for her in my heart. You had tried time and time again to tell Santana how you really felt about her. But something always got in the way; Brittany, her graduation, other glee club drama, or you just chicken out of it. You aren’t Brittany, you aren’t in college with her; you're just a high school student and her former friend, she’d never be interested in you the way you’re interested in her.

Every little thing she does is magic. Everything she do just turns me on. Whether it be a stunt during cheerleading, belting out the lyrics to an Amy Winehouse song, or talking about her day over pasta at breadstix; she made everything feel magical. The simplest of dance moves, or when she’d sing a song to you, or strutting around so confidently in both her cheerio uniform and her own clothes; would turn you on more than you thought possible.

I resolved to call her up a thousand times a day. And ask her if she'll marry me in some old fashioned way. But my silent fears have gripped me long before I reach the phone. Long before my tongue has tripped me. Must I always be alone? You’re young, you’re naive, you haven’t experienced the world yet, but you want to marry Santana Lopez. You’d marry her tomorrow if you could, spend every day for the rest of your lives joking around with her, dealing with Snix every time Santana gets angry, and facing criticisms for your life choices and sexuality with the woman you love by your side. You want her to be the last thing you see before going to bed, and her gorgeous face being what you’re greeted with every morning, falling asleep in a tangle of limbs. But it wasn’t in the cards for you, you always ended up alone. Anyone you were interested in the past was never as into you as you were them, or at all.

When you're done with the song Kitty starts clapping from the back of the auditorium, you’re distracted by her so you don’t see the person standing in the doorway. Santana watched the entire song, smiling and hoping it was about her when she heard the love and passion in your voice, thinking you were alone in there until she heard Kitty’s claps.

“You need to sing a solo,” Kitty gushes about your singing, running up to the stage.

“I’m not Marley and Blaine good,” you dig the toe of your shoe into the stage, not meeting Kitty’s eyes as you blush at the unexpected comment.

“She’s right, (Y/N/N),” Santana’s voce drifts through the auditorium. You straighten your back as she walks into the room, not knowing how to act around her in this moment. “You've gotten so much better.”

“Oh, uh,” you stumble of your words, you’ve been trying to get a hold of Santana for a week and you've been met with radio science. So why does she want to talk now? “Thanks, Kitty’s really helped me with my confidence this year. And I’ve been practicing, I guess.”

“We should get going,” Kitty tugs you away from Santana. “We have to go eat lunch. And (Y/N) is helping me study, she’s amazing with chemistry.” Santana watches helplessly as Kitty pulls you off stage and away from her. You send the Latina one last glance before the auditorium doors shut behind you.

“Kitty!” you pant, having just run the length of the school to get to the choir room. Everyone looks at you confused as you run through the doorway the following day, even Santana from her usual seat next to Brittany.

“What is it?” she stands up and walks to you.

“The email,” you pant again. “I got the email. Shit, I need to workout more.”

“What does it say?” Kitty gets excited now, going to grab the phone out of your hand.

“I don’t know, I’m too nervous to read it,” you admit, pusing your phone into her hands. She eagerly takes it, opening and skimming through the email.

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry,” your face and spirits fall as you realize you got rejected. “That you have to go to New York without me.”

“I got in?” you ask in disbelief.

“Of course you did!” Kitty pulls you into a hug. “Go bobcats!” You laugh and squeeze her tighter.

“What's going on?” Santana asks.

“(Y/N)’s turning into a bobcat,” Brittany answers her best friend.

“I applied to NYU’s early admissions program,” you grin at Santana, who’s making her way from Brittany’s side to yours. “And I got in!”

“That’s amazing!” she pulls you from Kitty’s arms into hers. “We can hang out when you get to New York.”

“You’re going to New York?” you ask, not pulling away from her embrace just yet. “What about Louisville?”

“How about I tell you over dinner tonight? Breadstix, eight o’clock?” Santana asks, more so demands. “Dress cute,”

She pulls away before you can respond, walking out of the choir room without another word. You stare after her with wide eyes, is it a date? Kitty pulls you to a seat and Finn announces that Tina is the official diva or whatever, apparently Tina went off during lunch yesterday. All you can focus on is Santana, who wants to go out with you tonight!

Once rehearsal is done you rush to your house, trying to pick out the best outfit for tonight. It needs to show off your assets, but it can’t be slutty; it has to be nice, but it can’t be too fancy, or too casual. You finally settle on a nice new outfit you got when you went shopping with Kitty last week. You quickly get dressed and rush out of the hose, seeing as how it’s almost eight already.

Walking into Breadstix you don’t see Santana, causing you to worry that her and Brittany were just making fun of you and pulling a prank. Realistically, you know Brittany would never do that, but every part of you was horrified that Santana would never feel the same way. Before you can get too worried, Santana walks in the door behind you. The two of you are quickly seated and get to talking about how different the glee club is without her.

“What’s the deal with you and Kitty?” the brunette asks, taking a bite of a crunchy breadstick.

“What do you mean?” you let out an awkward giggle, taking a sip of your drink.

“Are you two dating?” you almost spit the liquid out of your mouth at Santana’s absurd question. Her words are sharp, the look in her eyes fiery, a glimpse of Snix.

“Of course not!” you furrow your brows, why would you ever be with Kitty? “What made you think that?”

“You were checking me out yesterday,” Santana states defensively. “And Kitty seemed upset about it. And earlier you ran to her with the good news.”

“Kitty and I are friends,” you say slowly.

“I just thought-” she cuts herself off, taking an aggressive bite of her breadstick.

“That I like girls? I don’t,” Santana’s face falls, before hardening into her bitch face. “I like you.”

“What?” her eyes snap up to meet yours. You reach across the table and grab her free hand, running your thumb over the back of her hand.

“I’ve been in love with you since I met you,” you laugh lightly. “But you had Britany and you never seemed interested in me.”

“I was,” Sanatana says quickly. “I still am.”

“You have a girlfriend,” you pull your hand away from hers as you remember her girlfriend and their kiss in the choir room. “I don’t like cheaters. And I’m not going to be someone's other woman.”

“You’d never be the other woman,” she quickly reaches for your hand again, missing the intimate contact. “I want to show you off.”

“What about Elaine?” you pout, it all sounds like a line from one of those sill rom coms where the main character dates a cheating scumbag.

“I paid her with scratchers to be my girlfriend,” Santana admits quitely, seemingly embarrassed. “I wanted to make you jealous. Tina told me about Sam and Brit in the same phone call she told me about you and Kitty. Snix took over, I was mad that Brit didn’t tell me about her and trouty mouth and I was jealous that Kitty got to be with you when I never did. So I paid her to be my girlfriend.”

“Oh,” you don’t know how to respond to that, so you change the subject. “What about Louisville? Why are you going to New York.”

“It was boring,” she answers non-commitly. You give her a look that says you don’t believe her, so she amends her statement. “No one liked me there.”

“Then it’s their loss, because you’re the strongest most amazing person I have ever met,” you tell her sincerely, meaning every word out of your mouth. You squeeze her hand in reassurance that it isn’t just some line to make her feel better. “But why New York?”

“I’ve always wanted to move there, make it big. I was still deciding between that or Sue’s offer of being her assistant couch.”

“Well I think you made the right decision,” you smile at her. “You’d be miserable here in Lima, you’re made for so much more than this. Plus, Sue is an ass.”

“You were the final push I needed,” Santa leans across the table.

“Me?” you're shocked that you can sway her decision.

“I thought that if we were both in the same city that you might go out with me then,” if you didn’t know any better you would think the Latina was embarrassed.

“I would date you no matter where we lived,” you lean in too, not caring if people saw the intimate moment. “Even if we were living halfway across the world from each other. You’re so worth it Santana.”

“I love you, (Y/N),” she whispers, breath fanning over your lips. You bite your lip as you smile at the four words you had been waiting to hear for so long, her eyes immediately shift from your eyes to your mouth.

“I love you too, Snix and all,” your giggle is cut off by her lips descending on yours. You both smile into the kiss, happy that you finally admitted your feelings for each other.

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Pretty in Pearls, Chapter 6 (Jankie) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 💄| previous chapters

A/N: hi! it took me a while but here's a new update I hope you enjoy it! thank you for reading it! <3

-6-

“I can’t do this anymore,” Jan complained.

Jackie lifted her gaze from the book she was reading.

“This is the third time you say that… algebra can’t possibly be that bad.”

“For your consideration, there aren’t even numbers on these exercises, it’s Math… there should be numbers… where are the numbers?” She whined.

“Don’t look at me, why do you think I chose Art History? After high school, I promised myself my relationship with calculus was over.”

Jan sighed but focused on the assignment once again.

“Okay… I’m done… that was the last exercise of the sheet. I refuse to keep using my brain for what’s left of the day.”

Jackie chuckled.

They were alone in the copy room. It had been one of those quiet days; it was raining outside so Jan’s practice had been canceled but luckily her friend enjoyed her company while she did homework as well. In the past two hours, only a lost student walked in begging for a copy of a study guide for a mid-term for the following day. Jackie had the radio on and she had let the younger chose the station, Jan had picked a bubblegum pop radio that kept playing songs from the ’00s and the 10’s –to which she had found Jackie mumbling the lyrics a couple of times.

As much as she hated to miss her practice, she had to admit it was the first time in two weeks she had a moment to breathe. With her responsibilities and new hobby involved, she barely had time to take a break.

Jackie had her eyes on the book and one hand on the computer’s keyboard. She had been writing notes non-stop since her meeting with the dean. As she had explained it to Jan, her complaint had been discussed, and even when she presented a well-written note and had some witnesses to back it up, the only thing the university was doing was reprimand him and, –since it was the first time someone had said something about the professor’s behavior- let him continue his classes with a warning.

In terms of Jackie’s situation, they had dictated that she’d be able to present a final assignment that would include several –if not all- units of the program, and it would be evaluated by a panel of professors from similar backgrounds, to make it fair. The thing was that her former professor was the one that had formulated the questions and, aside from being a lot, they were pretty gimmicky and for all those reasons, she had started the assignment way earlier than the semester was over, just to be sure.

“Okay, I’m done for the day too.” She closed her notebook. “I feel like there’s smoke coming from my ears or something.”

“Oh, was it you? I thought it was one of the machines.”

Jackie scrunched her nose. “Anyway, it seems like it’s a slow day and I have ten more minutes here so… Do you want to go watch a movie at the cinema?”

“At the cinema? Whoa… I haven’t thought about it but it’s been ages since I went to watch a movie…”

“Is that a yes…?” Jackie did her best to hide her nervousness behind the question.

“Sure. But I have to warn you, I’m not good with horror movies.” Jan shrugged.

“I saw that coming… But there’s this old cinema called Bellamy, we could ride the subway and would be there in no time. They play random movies every day so we could just get there and grab a couple of tickets for the next feature. What do you say?”

“Sounds good to me. Oh! I’ll put it on the group chat in case anyone else wants to tag along.”

Jackie’s lips turned into a thin line. “Okay… you do that and I’ll finish here.”

Jan hadn’t even noticed the shift in the girl’s mood, she was way too excited typing the message on her phone.

“I hope you’re not upset but it seems it’s going to be just me and you,” Jan mentioned while Jackie closed the door of the copy room. “Everyone’s plans or they are studying or… I don’t know.”

“Oh… no… it’s fine by me if it’s fine for you.”

“Of course! It’ll be fun!” She smiled.

It was still raining outside so they shared Jackie’s red umbrella that matched with her rain boots.

“What’s with this downpour?” Jackie wiped some drops from her clothes once they got underground. “Okay, here we go.”

Jan seemed amused. “I have never ridden the subway… well, back when I was like four I’m sure my mom took us me and my brother but I have no memories of it whatsoever.”

“You’ll get used to it quickly. Honestly, it’s one of the easiest ways to travel when it’s not packed.”

Without objecting, Jan followed Jackie’s lead up close. They almost coordinated steps to avoid puddles while running; the comical situation got them laughing at loud all their way to the subway station.

“I’m out of breath.” Jackie leaned against one column before closing the umbrella.

They shook some drops out of their clothes and waited for the subway to arrive. When it arrived not even five minutes later, they rushed to climb onto the wagon before they got pushed by others passengers. At least with the rain, there was place to move and even some seats available.

Jan had decided she liked riding the subway, it was a great place to observe the diversity of the fauna of the city. There were all kinds of people around probably heading to their works or their homes or to meet friends or just somewhere different. It was exciting, to consider the unlimited possibilities.

She looked at Jackie and displayed a giant grin that had the other girl blushing lightly and looking away.

“So how did you find this place?” Jan asked after a couple of minutes.

It caught Jackie out of guard. “Huh? What do you mean?” She frowned lightly.

“I was wondering how did you find this place since it’s not near the campus.”

“Oh that… I actually discovered it a couple of years ago. Things at home with my mom after the divorce weren’t precisely on the best terms so after school I never got straight back there. Instead, I started wandering around and taking the subway or the bus to go anywhere really.” Her voice threatened with breaking but she quickly cleared her throat. “One of those times I ended up in this old building, a theatre with so much history and they played these movies I had never seen before so… I stayed there ever since.”

“Whoa… that’s…” Jan wanted to reach for her hand but the older girl hurried to jump off the seat.

“This is our stop.” She pointed out.

“Alright. We’re here.”

“We are.” Jackie showed her a smile and grabbed the umbrella, ready to face the rain. “Let’s go.”

They had arrived just in time for Carrie but since Jan had stated she didn’t enjoy horror films, they waited ten minutes for the next movie to start. Coincidentally, it was My Fair Lady with Audrey Hepburn so it would also work for research purposes –or that was what Jan said- aside from the fact she had never watched it.

Jackie couldn’t say she was a newbie to Hepburn’s movies, she had watched all of them at least once but having company was new to her. Since getting into college she had stopped needing the cinema as an escape, a way to avoid reality at least for a couple hours; it was after meeting her friends and starting her classes that she eventually had less time to go there or simply, didn’t need it anymore.

Now, it was a whole different scenario. She had Jan next to her and it was a bit magical to see her in the dark with the light of the screen reflecting on her face, something that made her heart race. She would’ve died to hold her hand at that instant but it was true that she’d also die if she touched her as if Jan held the power of burning her with a mere contact.

Then, the screen went black and the credits started rolling, the movie was over.

They waited until most people had left the room and then they walked out.

“So, did you like the movie?”

Jan tilted her head. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a period piece from time to time and the costumes were iconic but… Professor Higgins is awful!” She gestured with her hands to emphasize her displeasure. “He spent all this time torturing Eliza… changing her to the point where she couldn’t go back to her life. That’s a psychopath.”

“Oh thank God, we agree.” Jackie sighed with relief.

“No wonder Rosé and her classmates changed part of the plot because…”

“Yeah. I’m dying to see that. How are the rehearsals going by the way?”

“They are great, I have a small part… the equivalent of one of those ladies on the horse races and I appear in two numbers but the rehearsals are so much fun with everyone. It's a nice group of people that are passionate about musicals.”

They got out of the room and saw the people already gathering for the next feature. The smell of popcorn was strong in the air just like the humidity of the rain on the carpet.

Jackie spotted a familiar face and her eyes lighted up. “Oh my God, Sophie!” She waved toward a short old woman with white hair and giant round glasses. “Jan, you have to meet Sophie”

“Jackie, darling.” She shuffled toward them. She pulled Jackie for a tight hug. The woman barely reached her waist.

“Sophie, this is my friend, Jan.” She introduced them.

“Hi-” Before Jan could say something else, Sophie also hugged her.

“Sophie is the owner of the theatre,” Jackie explained once the old lady let the younger breathe.

“Oh! That’s awesome. It’s really nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. I have waited for ages for Jackie to finally bring a special someone…”

“No!” Jackie shook her head. “It’s- It’s not like that at all… We’re friends.”

“Pardon me, it’s only that when you introduced me to this lovely young lady I just thought… maybe someone had finally melted your cold façade.”

“Oh, Sophie… what are you saying?” She laughed nervously, her face was completely red. “Don’t listen to her… she’s old.”

Jan giggled. “It’s alright. I adore Jackie, she’s one of my best friends.”

“I haven’t seen this one in a while, you’d think she vanished or something.” The woman pointed.

“I’m sorry, Sophie. I should’ve called you at least.”

“For sure.” Sophie nagged.

“It won’t happen again… I’ll come back more often after the midterms, I promise it.”

“Oh darling, you haven’t heard, have you?”

Jackie looked puzzled. “What?”

“The Bellamy is going to be demolished.”

“What?!” The girl’s jaw dropped to the floor.

“How?” Jan asked, in disbelief as well.

“Well, a group of rich people has decided this is the perfect location to build one of those department stores.”

“No, no, no… this can’t be. This place is sacred, part of the cultural heritage of the city, it can’t be destroyed to build a mall.”

The old lady shrugged. “There’s not much I can do about it, it’s already written.” She patted Jackie’s shoulder. “Listen, honey, the important thing is that this place served its purpose for a long, long time and we got to enjoy it.”

Jackie was on the verge of tears. “How can you say that? How can you give up just like that? Without even putting a fight? The Bellamy is not just another cinema.”

The girl stormed out of the theatre before anyone else could say something.

“Wait! Jackie!” Jan shouted but she lost the girl in the crowd. “I’m sorry, I’m sure she didn’t mean any of that.” She softly explained to Sophie.

“You don’t need to tell me, I know. Now go after her, she needs a friend right now.”

“Yeah… I will…” Jan turned around.

“Oh, and Jan, one more thing,” Sophie called. “keep an eye on her, she seems inscrutable sometimes but she’s sensitive underneath.”

Jan displayed a tiny smile. “I know.”

“Jackie! Jackie wait!”

As if it didn’t matter at all, it had stopped raining.

She found the elder laying against the wall, next to a Casablanca poster that had been there since… well… probably since Casablanca first premiered.

Jackie’s cheeks were wet and her eyes reddened but she had wiped all the tears before Jan got closer.

“Hey… I’m so sorry.” Jan looked at her with soft eyes.

Jackie closed her eyes and sighed loudly. “I can’t believe it… this theatre is a home to me.”

“There must be a way to save it, we’ll figure something out.”

“I don’t know… it seems impossible… even Sophie has renounced.”

“Then we’ll convince her as well.” Jan grabbed her wrists. “We’ll find a way, there’s always a way.”

“Okay, Disney Channel Original Movie motivational speech.”

Jan chuckled. “What do you say if –for now- we go home and pick something to eat? I’m starving and... is it me or popcorn buckets are getting smaller?”

She got a smile from Jackie, that was a win.

“Plus, if I want to become a subway expert I’m supposed to ride it again, right?”

“I suppose that’s correct.”

“I’m telling you, I know this vegetarian place that has the best eggplant tacos and veggie sushi…” Jackie was commenting when they returned to the dorms.

“Sounds amazing, just let me pick some money from my room and we’ll be ready to go. You can come with me if you want.”

“Alright.”

They climbed the stairs until Jan stopped in her tracks making Jackie almost bump into her.

“Hey, careful there…”

But the brunette was petrified, watching the scene that happened on the very same floor of her dormitory. It took Jackie a moment to locate the event that had caused such commotion but as soon as she saw it, she just wished her friend hadn’t.

There he was, Nathan, the object of her affections, walking out the room of a girl that lived in the building. A different girl, it wasn’t the girl from the first day or another girl she had seen him with before. This was a gorgeous girl –like the others- but there was something different about him -him with her- the way he put the missing lock behind her ear and got closer to press a chaste kiss on her lips, the way they smiled after their lips touched.

Jan felt sick to her stomach, her face got pale and she barely could hold the tears.

The couple returned to the room and right when the door closed, she ran directly to her room. She desperately searched for the keys.

“Jan? Are you…?” Jackie touched her shoulder.

Jan sobbed. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine… I just… I need to find the keys… it’s like I can’t find them anywhere.” She kept rummaging her backpack without result.

It was too late, she broke into tears, her knees gave in and she ended on the floor.

“I’m sorry, this must look so stupid in comparison to the theatre but… It hurts so badly.” Her voice broke into pieces. “I keep telling myself it’s just another girl but there’s always another girl… It's exhausting.”

“Oh, Jan… no…�� Jackie kneeled next to her and embraced her in a hug. “It’s not you.”

“I know that… it will never be me.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

She finally found her keys and got up.

“I’m sorry, Jackie. I’ve lost my appetite.” Her voice sounded weak, distant.

“No, wait… you don’t have to be alone right now.” Jackie hurried to stand up.

“I really… really… want to be alone.” She sobbed harder. “I don’t want you to see me like this.” She closed the door on Jackie’s face as soon as she got in.

“Jan!” Jackie knocked on the door. “Jan… please don’t do this. Jan, please… open the door.”

She tried for another five minutes but finally gave up. Jan wasn’t opening the door and the best Jackie could do was texting Rosé hoping the girl would come home earlier to take care of her.

It broke Jackie’s heart to see her like that, especially for a guy like Nathan, one that wasn’t worth the tears.

The following day, it surprised Jackie to find a text message from Jan early in the morning –earlier than any of her classes.

From Jan 🐻: Meet me at Lucky’s before class. It’s important.

Jackie jumped out of bed and rushed to get ready as soon as she read it, after a night of poor sleep she was waiting for that text message.

She walked straight to the diner and found her friend sitting on a table with her computer open and her pink-haired roommate sitting in front of her.

“Hey...” She approached the table.

“Jackie, you’re here!” Jan greeted with the same energetic tone she had –even that early in the morning. Although she looked hyped, the bags under her eyes told a different story.

“Uh… Are you okay?” Jackie asked before taking a seat next to her. She also eyed Rosé who just shrugged.

“Peachy.” She smiled. “Would you like a cup of coffee maybe? Waffles? Pancakes? French toast?”

“The waffles are really good.” Rosé pointed.

“Thanks… I’ll have some eggs maybe but… what’s going on? Yesterday…”

“Yesterday was yesterday and today is today.” Jan gestured with her hands. “I texted you because I have something super important to show you.” She pointed at her computer's screen.

That was it? They were going to pretend the Nathan incident hadn’t happened at all? Well, at least for Jan, that was the case.

“Alright… tell me.”

“So, I did some research and I believe it is possible to save the theatre if we gather enough evidence to prove it has historic importance for the city.” The page of the culture ministry was opened along with at least fifty different tabs on the subject.

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” Jackie raised an eyebrow.

“I was hoping you’d come with an idea since you know the place better than me. Maybe Sophie could tell us some story or we could do our own research.”

Jackie sighed. “I guess it could work but we’d need to invest hours on this and… are you sure you want to do it? I feel like you have a lot on your plate already.”

“Oh no, she devoured the pancakes the second the plate touched the table, trust me.” Rosé assured.

“I was hungry and I didn’t eat them right away, they drew a face with the blueberries so I took a picture and posted it on Instagram first.” She shook her head. “As I was saying, this is important for you, Jackie and I want to help.” She stared at her, hoping she would convince her with those arguments.

“Jan, I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t even try it.” Rosé mumbled. “I already did and she chose to ignore me categorically so I followed her here to make sure she didn’t jump from a bridge or something.”

“She’s also here to hit on my coworker so it’s really a win-win situation.”

They high-fived.

“That’s lovely… but we should talk about what happened last night…”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jan stated. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I don’t think…”

But Jackie was interrupted by Denali.

“Hi, how’s it going over here? Do you guys want something else?” She had her eyes fixed on her notebook.

“Can I get a cup of Americano and scrambled eggs?” Jackie asked. She needed some coffee to go through it.

“Right away. Do you girls would like something else? More coffee?”

“We’re good.” Jan smiled.

“Oh, Jan, I have your check over there if you want to collect it right now.”

“Thank you, Nali. I’ll be there in a second.”

Rosé cleared her throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask you…”

But it was like the cat had caught the pink-haired girl’s tongue.

“…if you can pour more coffee for me?”

“Sure.” She smiled politely but it was clear that Rosé was melting inside.

Once the waitress left, all the eyes were on Rosé.

“What? I got paralyzed. I can’t do it. I can’t. It is physically impossible for me to ask her out, my body reacts like that.”

“I believe, as science people and Twitter users have once referred to it, that's a case of gay panic. Have you tried in a different way?” Jackie asked before sipping some of Jan’s coffee. “What is this?” She winced.

“Decaffeinated.”

“Ugh…”

“Bitch, I have tried… I even left my number written on a $20 bill when I went to the bathroom earlier, hoping she’d see it but it’s like I’m invisible.”

“That’s not right. Denali loves to flirt and she’s single so I don’t see why she wouldn’t say yes. Oh, I know, you could invite her to the play's opening night.”

Jackie looked at the younger, Jan had dodged the conversation about her but there was no way her friend wasn’t going to dig into it later.

“Maybe I can pave the way for you… find out if she’s having a rough morning or something that affects her response.”

“Would you do that for me?” Rosé didn’t sound so sure about it.

“Of course, I have to pick up my check… my first check here.”

“Congratulations.” Jackie smiled at her.

“Thank you.” She then touched her roommate’s arm. “Leave it to me. I’ll be subtle.”

“Jan…” Before Rosé could say something, she was already heading toward the counter.

“Was it bad?” Jackie asked once the brunette left.

“Girl… You have no idea.” Rosé sighed.

“Thank you, Nali.” Jan held the check proudly in her hands.

“Is your name correct?”

“Yes, it’s perfect.”

“Remember you work tomorrow so have a moderate amount of fun with it and stay away from ice skates and acrylic nails hot sales… Huh… I guess that only applies to me.” Denali turned around.

“Denali… I was wondering…”

The raven-haired girl dropped a pile of napkins.

“Shit. Don’t tell anyone but I forgot to put my contacts on this morning and basically, I can’t see shit without these giant glasses.” She murmured before quickly putting a pair of dark frame glasses on. She grabbed the napkins and after typing something on the computer, took them off immediately.

“Oh… that explains a lot actually…”

“What do you mean?”

Subtle Jan, subtle.

“So my roommate likes you.”

Denali almost tripped. “Wait, what?”

“She’s been trying to ask you out for the past weeks but she feels like you’re ignoring her.”

Denali dragged Jan behind the counter with her and kneeled before putting the glasses back on.

“Which one is your roommate?” She whispered.

“The one with the pink hair that comes here often… is a regular. You can't ignore her she's like one of those anime main characters with the funky hair.”

“Oh my God, Fine Wine is your roommate?”

“What?”

“She’s always singing that Kylie Minogue song and I thought it was a joke since you guys call her Rosé but…”

“That’s her name.”

“Well, she is fine wine.” Denali pushed the glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah? She even left a $20 bill with her number as a tip for you?”

“That was her?! I thought it was one of the creepy guys from table six. Oh my God…” She grabbed the jar of tips and started searching for the bill.

“Bitch if I’m missing a single dollar from that jar I swear to God…” Kandy yelled from the other side of the diner.

“Shut up, I’m in the middle of something here…” Finally, she pulled out the bill with pink glitter ink.

“It says XOXO Rosé.”

“What part of «I’m not wearing glasses» you didn't catch?”

"Is that a yes, though?

Denali nodded. She removed the glasses and waved toward their table. “Hey Rosé, if you’re not busy tonight, I’ll call you!”

Rosé blushed instantly but she nodded with a smile on her face.

Jackie, behind her, just shook her head, acknowledging that the shenanigans of her friend had worked out once again.

#rpdr fanfiction #jan sport #jackie cox #jankie #rosnali #college au #lesbian au #slow burn #pretty in pearls #plastiquedoll #concrit welcome

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blacknight1230 · 4 years

Text

Judge of Character

Damian Wayne Imagine

Damian Wayne isn’t big on friendship. From a young age, he has been taught not to trust anyone, including so-called family. Since he was taken under the Batman’s wing, he only trusts a very few, limited to his family. So it's no big surprise the blood son of world’s greatest detective reacts hostile towards a surprise guest in Batcave. But when he sees how his pets behave around her, he might change his mind.

Gotham Academy. The most prestigious school in the dangerous city. All of the city’s elite sent there children there. Unfortunately for Damian, he was also sent there for a highschool education. The blood son of the Bat hated it there; it was full of fake people, ones who snobbishly flounted themselves in the school’s halls all because their parent was the head of some notorious company, or something along those lines. Damian knew the only reason they put up with him was because of his father and his ties to Wayne Industries; anyone not on par with their wealth and status were considered lesser than them and they barely tried to hide it. This, coupled with Damian’s cold exterior, made it hard for him to make friends. One thing the young Robin did not need was groupies.

“How was your day, Master Damian?” Alfred asked the young teen when he picked him up from the academy. “Uneventful as always, Pennyworth. Teachers teaching, and I mean that loosely, subjects that a toddler could figure out and hormonal hazards gossiping and pretending to care about my wellbeing ... should I go on?” Damian tsked, looking out the sleek car’s windows. “So, high school, basically?” Alfred replied, eyes not moving from the road in front of him. “A high school full of uptight snobs. I don’t understand why Father makes me waste away there. I could probably teach better than the teachers there. And they supposedly have taught in Ivy League colleges.” “I understand your frustrations, Master Damian. But Master Bruce wants you to experience normal teenage life. Maybe even make some friends.” Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I swing from rooftop to rooftop, battling the criminals of gotham’s seedy underworld and fight alongside metahumans. Tell me how that’s normal exactly?” “That way be true, but then again you don’t really hang out with people your own age, do you?” Alfred pointed out, raising an eyes at him through the rearview mirror. Damian remained quiet, his arms crossed over his chest in frustration.

The rest of ride back to Wayne Manor was silent, even as the expensive car parked in front of the main doors. Damian wordlessly strode into the mansion, after Alfred opened the door for him of course, dumping his backpack on the ground. “Master Damian, I’d like to inform you that Master Bruce has a guest that will stay in the Manor for awhile as they help your father on a case,” Alfred said as he picked up the discarded backpack, placing it next to the jackets and shoes. But when the butler turned around, Damian was nowhere to be found.

Damian hadn’t heard a single word that left Alfred’s mustached mouth for he already was making his way towards the secret entrance to the Bat Cave. “Father, are you here? I would like to have a word with you?” he called out once he made it to the Cave. Silence met him, even the bats that gave the cave its name were quiet. Damian was suspicious as he thought his father would be here. He specifically remembered that he had a case he was working on that was particularly difficult.

As he strode into the center of the cave, he could hear the sound of keys clicking as well as images popping up on the monitor, showing that someone was on the Batcomputer. But who? All he could see from his position were feminine gloved hands working across the keyboard. Intruder, he thought. Without a second thought, he grabbed a sword from the nearby weapon rack and lunged at the mysterious infiltrator. With a yell, he slashed at the back of the high chair in front of the supercomputer, slicing it right down the middle. He grabbed what was left of the chair and turned it around only for there to be no one in the chair. How? he thought. Where could they have gone? A voice calling out to him answered his question.

“That was close,” it said. Damian spun around to face the unknown intruder, sword pointed at them and his body in a defensive stance. In front of him stood a girl in hero attire, hands on her hips. This girl looked to be young teen around his age, yet she appeared to be wise beyond her years. The (f/c) and (2nd f/c) clad teen raised an eyebrow as she stared at him, also studying his appearance. “You must be the current Robin. It’s nice to me you. I’m -” she tried to introduce herself. But Damian did let her finished as he already leapt her. The girl was able to effortlessly dodge his multiple attacks, on the defensive as Damian relentless went after her.

In his effort to land a hit, Damian led the both of them to where the numerous Batsuits were located. The young Robin eyed his mysterious opponent, who didn’t show any signs of being worn out. Suddenly, he stabbed at opening he foresaw knowing there would be no way that the mysterious girl would be able to dodged it. Everything seemed to go in slow motion, the pointing tip of his sword stabbing through the air and towards the middle of the girl’s chest. But when the sworded entered the vicinity of the young girl, with a wave of her gloved hand a bright filled the air. Damian yelled in pain as the light blinded him and he felt his body rebound as if he ran into a brick wall.

He quickly regained his footing, skidding a foot or so across the hard metal flooring. When he regained his eyesight, his eyes widened at what was in front of him. The mysterious teenage girl was floating several feet off the ground, a bright electric blue light surrounding her, eyes glowing the same bright blue as electric blue glyphs surrounded her. Shit, Damian thought to himself. She’s a magic user. Before he could do anything, he was encased in a cube of translucent blue magic. Damian tried to break his magical prison, first with his sword and eventually with his fists, but it was useless. He was stuck right where he was and would not be able to escape.

“Maybe this will teach you a lesson,” the girl said, her glowing hand raised as she held up the magic barrier around him. “Let me out of here, intruder! How did you get into here! Who do you work for?” Damian yelled pounding his fists against his magical prison. “Intruder? I’m a guest, you snot nosed brat! I’m helping your father on a case in my mentor’s place,” the girl explained, acting insulted. “A likely story. My father just doesn’t trust any amateur vigilante,” Damian scoffed. “And yet this ‘amateur vigilante’ happened to trapped you in an inescapeable magical prison,” she sassed back. Damian glowered in response, opening his mouth to say something when a dark shadow enveloped both of them.

Batman glided down to them, his shadow shrinking as the legendary detective came closer. Damian smirked to himself, thinking that his father would now deal with the young intruder himself. The Bat landed on the cold metal platform, surveying the scene from under his cowl with calculating white lensed eyes. To the surprise of the young Robin, his father turned to the magical girl and said with a deadpan voice, “What happened?” “Father! I caught this witch snooping around the Cave and on the Batcomputer trying to -” “Excuse me, but I’m a sorceress, not a witch, you arrogant bastard. And I already told you I was invited here to help Batman!” the female vigilante interrupted.

Damian frowned and set his sights on the Bat, silently asking for confirmation. “She’s speaking the truth, Damian. I’ve asked (supernero name) to help due to her knowledge of the occult and its arts,” the older vigilante explained. “Didn’t Alfred tell you we would be having a guest? I specifically told him to remind you.” So that’s what Pennyworth was saying when I left him talking, Damian thought to himself. He realized his mistake, but remain quiet, not one to admit he was wrong.

Bruce sighed, his shoulders dropping as if he was exhausted from his younger’s sons actions. “(superhero name), can you release my son now?” he ordered sternly. “Yes sir.” With a wave of her hand, the magical prison surrounding the young Robin faded away. Damian took a cautionary step forward, just in case there was a hint of barrier left. Luckily there wasn’t and he was able to approach his father.

“Father, who this miscreant? How could you trust her? I never heard of this so called ‘(superhero name),’“ he complained. “Damian, her mentor is Zatanna, one of the members of Justice League Dark. I asked her for help but she was unable to come so she sent her apprentice instead,” Bruce patiently explained. Damian took a moment to remember everything he knew about Zatanna and the auxiliary Justice League group. If he remembered correctly, his father helped the group once to defeat a world-wide demonic threat.

“I don’t care if she’s the sidekick of a knock-off Justice League member. That doesn’t make her trustworthy,” Damian replied snarkingly. “Damian,” Bruce said, using his ‘father voice.’ “Sometimes the right thing to do is just give someone a chance. Only then will you find if it was worth it to trust them.”

Bruce walked off, leaving him silently stuing in place, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the knowledged passed onto him by his father. Alfred was the one to break the stiff silence, having come down to the cave with a silver platter in one hand. “Master Damian, if you’re not going to listen your father’s sound advice, would you at least like a sandwich I prepared?” he asked, an eyebrow raised as you stared down at the fuming teen in front of him. “Maybe later, Pennyworth,” he answered. Damian brushed past the elderly butler, making his way out of the Batcave. “Would you like one, Ms. (superhero name)?” he heard Alfred say. “I would love one. Do you happened to have (favorite sandwich)?” “I believe I do. Here you are.” Damian could only ‘tsk’ grumpily. She might have Alfred under her spell already but I won’t fall for it, he thought.

~ Time Skip ~

It’s been a week since the disliked newcomer arrived. A week of Damian having to deal with (superhero name) whenever he got back from school. The young Robin had enough; it seemed wherever he turned in the manor, she was there. Just her presence got him in a bad mood, despite the young heroine never have done something to warrant his grump disposition. What seemed to get even further on his nerves is that Alfred and even his father were friendly towards the girl. Well, as friendly as the Bat could get that is. Damian still did not trust the (f/c) clad hero, keeping his guard up whenever she tried to get him to warm up to her.

The blood son of the Bat was currently wandering the halls of the manor, caught in quite a predicament. “Alfred! Alfred!” he called out, eyes searching his surroundings. “Did you call me, Master Damian?” the elderly butler asked. It appears he was in the middle of dusting the decorative furniture in the hallway, as he had a feathered duster in hand and apron to protect his uniform. “I was calling for Alfred the Cat, actually. Have you seen him anywhere, Pennyworth?” Damian cleared up. “A yes, your feline companion named after yours truly. I should known you meant him. I haven’t seen him while I was doing my duties. But I believe he might be in family room as he quite likes it there,” Alfred replied. “Thank you, Pennyworth. I’ll leave you alone to continue with your work.”

Damian steadily made his way towards the family room, taking the magnificent wooden stairs down to the main floor of his ancestral home. In no time at all he had reached the informal room, where he his family usually spent their free time when guests weren’t over. But as he stepped into the room, he stopped in shock at the unbelievable sight in front of him. Sitting on the floor was (superhero name) leaning against a resting Titus and Alfred the Cat relaxing on her lap.

It was as he was in a daze, walking up to the young heroine. “What is going on?” he questioned. (superhero name) looked up at Damian in surprise, yet Alfred the Cat and Titus didn’t even move. “Oh, hi, Robin. How are you?” she responded nonchalantly as if she didn’t see Damian’s perplexed exterior. “You didn’t answer my question. What did you do to my pets?” Damian ignored her suggestion, face hardening as thousands of possible scenarios ran through his head. Why are they so comfortable around her? They usually dislike strangers, he was thinking.

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you are talking about. I’m just taking a break from the case so I can clear my head. Is that so wrong?” (superhero name) said, gloved hand running through the fur on Alfred the Cat’s back. Damian picked up on the sound of the feline purring, infuriating him further. “Whatever spell you put on them, you better take off right now. I don’t take kindly to magic being used on my family,” he ordered, crossing his arms across his chest, trying to look as threatening and serious as he could. But it obviously failed, as (superhero name) started to laugh at him. Damian growled, insulted at the sound of her mirthful bell-like laughter.

“Wow, you really are caught on this whole I’m-untrustworthy-and-possibly-a-criminal idea,” (superhero name) snickered once her laughter died down. “For all I know, you are a criminal. Or at least you’re not currently breaking the law. A mysterious past, no indication on whenever what you view as ‘right’ is actually ‘wrong’ ... Why would I trust you?” Damian pointed out rather harshly. (superhero name) just frowned, stopping her caressment of his pets. “Listen here, Bird-Brain,” she practically hissed. “If I really was such a bad person as you say, then why are your pets okay with me being here. They know nothing about me, just like you, yet they can tell I’m a good person.”

Damian tried to argue, but was unable to come up with anything and so remained silent. He thought over what she told him, fighting with himself over her words. If she what she said is true and that they aren’t under some type of spell ..., one part of his brain was saying. ... then maybe I should give the benefit of the doubt and trust her. But he other part was refusing to budge, scolding him. How do you know she’s trustworthy? Your pets being friendly with her doesn’t mean anything, it told him.

(Superhero name) saw how Damian was fighting an inward battle and sighed. “Listen, Robin,” she began, looking deep into his green eyes with her (e/c) one, refusing to look away. “There is reason why your pets are so comfortable with my presence. Its because they can tell I’m a good person. Animals have a rather exceptional judge of character, can’t you tell.” Her words hit him, settling into his brain. Damian couldn’t help but regret his previous actions, especially when Titus nuzzled his head into (superhero name)’s side and she wordlessly caressed his black fur with a warm smile.

Damian gave up, groaning loudly as he tried to apologize, albit awkwardly as this wasn’t something he did often. “I’m ... sorry, (superhero name). I see now that might have been a bit hasty with my judgement of you. I can see that you are a kind and worth of my trust,” he struggled to say. “I accept your apology. But please, call me (y/n). If we’re going to start over and be friends you should at least know my real name,”

“Damian. My name’s Damian,” he told her. (Y/n) gave a bright smile, one that caused a genuine smile to make its way to Damian’s lips. He couldn’t help but go over the word ‘friends’ in his head. I’ve never had a real friend before, he thought. It sounds nice. (Y/n) broke him out of his inner dialogue, patting a bean bag chair next to her as she smiled. “Come sit, Damian. I’m sure Titus and Alfred would love to have another person to cuddle with,” she joked. Her smile was contagious, making one appeared on Damian’s face as he silently did as she said. As soon as he sat on the cloth beanbag, sinking into the bean filled cushion, Titus shuffled himself so his large head was laying on his lap. A pang of amazement shot through his heart at the sight. Seeing Alfred the Cat doing the same to (y/n) made him feel all fuzzy inside. He let himself relax and leaned back into the plush bean bag, quietly chilling with (y/n) and his beloved animals.

~ Timeskip ~

Before long Damian and (y/n) went there separate ways. The supernatural case she was working on was solved and she left Bat & Co. to return to Zatanna. Meanwhile, Damian went back on with his public life, going back school and so on, and eventually back to the Titans. In the limited time they had with each other, Damian was able to bond with the magical teen. Their shared interests in art and love of animals of course brought them closer together. Alfred, the butler not the cat, was shocked that they had gotten so close, especially after their initial meeting. Even the big Bat himself raised an eyebrow as Damian and (y/n) gushed about one thing or another.

So when he had to return to Titans Tower, Damian secretly missed his fast friend. Sure, he had Raven, Beast Boy, Jaime, and Starfire, but it just wasn’t the same. I wonder what she’s up to now, he thought as he roamed the barren hallways.

Suddenly, Beast Boy rushed up to him in the form of a green cheetah. “Bro you’ll never believe this!” he exclaimed once he returned to his normal form. “What is it, Garfield?” Damian replied, hiding his curiosity behind a passive face. “We’ve got a new team member! They’re coming any minute now!” the shape-shifting teen bounced with excitement. “What?” Damian didn’t have time to process this new information, for Beast Boy grabbed his arm and pulled him along.

Now, Damian could have forced Garfield to let go of hi, but he decided it was better to just let the green teen do what he wanted. So in no time at all, he was in main entrance of the tower alongside the rest of the Titans. Garfield finally let go of him and immediately started to chattered Jaime’s ear off. “I see Garfield brought you up to pace,” Raven spoke, voice monotone as always. “Wish it someone told me the news sooner. Did you know about this?” he asked his goth friend. Raven nodded her head no, watching Starfire preparing for the newcomer. “I’m just as clueless as you are,” she replied. “I have feeling the League has a hand in this,” Damian scoffed.

Out of nowhere, a portal appeared, enveloping the area in a (f/c) glow. “Oh, they’re almost here! Everyone smile for our new friends and be on your best behavior,” Starfire ordered, excitement oozing off of her in waves. Through the magical interdimensional circle a figure appeared, silhoused by the intensity of the portal’s light. Everyone shielded their eyes until the figure stepped fully through and the portal disappeared behind them. Damian finally got a good look at the newcomer, gaze rising as he took in more of their appearance. When his green eyes stopped when he saw a familiar face.

The new team member was (y/n), dressed in a new uniform and an extra guest perched on her shoulder. A medium sized cat gazed at him with two different colored eyes, one blue and the other green, with a distinct fur pattern that made one half of its face orange with stripes while the other was completely black. I remember here telling me she always wanted an animal familiar, Damian thought. I see she finally got her wish. “Well, isn’t this a surprise,” (y/n) said, a smirk on her lips. “Didn’t expect to see here, Boy Wonder.” The rest of the team looked on shocked as Damian confidently strode up the sorceress. “Me, surprised? You give yourself too much credit, (superhero name),” he tsked. (y/n) just smiled , maneuvering her cat to be held in her arms. Things just got a lot more interesting.

#damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #teen titans damian wayne imagine #teen titans damian wayne x reader #dc animated movie universe #dc animated movies #dc animated universe imagine #dc animated universe x reader

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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years

Text

What I Quickly Think About Community

Salutations random people on the internet who probably won't read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons. And today, I'm gonna be doing something a little different. You see, I just finished the underrated show called Community (#andamovie), which gained a lot of popularity lately after being on Netflix for a couple months now...even though it's been on Hulu for far longer, but that's neither here nor there. Because I'd like to share my thoughts about it. However, there's really not much to analyze or think about when it comes to a series like Community. Yet, there is quite a bit more I want to talk about rather than write a few paragraphs about it. So, for this review, I'm going to mix formats. I'll list the things that I like and dislike, but I won't overanalyze or discuss my thoughts. So sit back and relax as I explain what I quickly think about Community.

(And don't worry about spoilers. I’ll keep things as spoiler-free as I can.)

WHAT I LIKE

It's funny. Like, really funny. Unfortunately, like most comedy shows, Community loses its magic in later seasons. Luckily, there are still occasionally hilarious jokes, some funnier than ones made when Community was in its prime. So...it's one of those give or take types of deals.

Jeff is a solid protagonist. He's such an a-hole, but rarely ever too far that he's unlikable. Plus, you really feel for him in season six when he has anxieties you never really considered until he makes them open. Jeff is the perfect balance of witty comedy and identifiability, which is what most series protagonists need.

Annie is adorable. 'Nough said.

Shirley is underrated, in my opinion. She has her fans, but not as much as everyone else in the cast. Plus, it's nice to show a character that's a proud Christian that's also willing to accept other people's beliefs...for the most part. Sure, she has slip-ups, but I'd say there's a lot more to love about her than there is to hate.

Abed is a fan-frickin'-tastic character, and I do a full analysis explaining why...on some point. (It's already on my to-do list. Just bear with me.)

Troy is absolutely a himbo, and it's oddly funny seeing him have a nervous breakdown. That may sound awful, but trust me when I say that if you'd seen how he reacts to meeting Levar Burton, you'd be laughing too.

Also, Troy and Abed's bromance is the best thing in this series, as it's equally funny and heartwarming at times seeing them together.

The Dean is un-Dean-iably the funniest character in the show. Don't believe me? Watch his Payday rap.

Chang gets funnier and funnier with each passing season, and I'll leave it to you in figuring out how and why.

Frankie might be the best character shoe-horned into the main cast due to...reasons. Hicky and Elroy are fine, but Frankie offers something the characters needed for a while. She's a straight man that offers sanity to the group's oddball antics. She might not be as funny as everyone else, but her inclusion is definitely appreciated.

There's a realistic way romance is written in this series. There is no endgame relationship or even any long-lasting ones. Instead, the characters date, they sometimes bone, and they eventually break-up when the relationship doesn't work. That's how things work in the real world, especially at college, so why let it work here?

The funniest out-of-context line is, "I didn't just masturbate in the study room. I masturbated everywhere...EEEVVVEEERRRYYYWWWHHHEEERRREEE!" And I will fight you on that.

There's some surprisingly good music in this series. Especially with its cover to "Somewhere Out There." Look it up. It might just be better than the original.

Season three might be my favorite because there are these little arcs building in the background, but the show still remains episodic as it doesn't need to focus on those arcs as much as they have to. The main focus is the characters and their relationships, and that's all there need to develop. Yet seeing all those narratives come together in the final episodes of season three is a spectacle to behold. At least to me, it is.

"Remedial Chaos Theory" is the best half-hour of television, and you can quote me on that.

"Abed's Uncontrollable Christmas" is equally parts charming as it is hilarious.

The paintball episodes are easily the best of the series...except for the season four finale.

WHAT I DISLIKE

Also, what season four? There's no season four. It goes from season three to five, and that's it. Season four doesn't exist, and if it did, WE DON'T TALK ABOUT IT!

Seasons five and six aren't...bad, but they're also not that good either. There are some fantastic episodes in there, but they're easily outmatched by mediocre and just flat-out awful writing. If you feel like season three is a good stopping point, then you might as well do yourself a favor and stop watching.

"Basic Email Security" is the worst episode of the series. Say what you want about the season that doesn't exist. Nothing can get worse than that.

Britta's the human equivalent of 2020. She is the worst. And I'm not just saying that to be on theme. Britta is annoying, she isn't funny, and every time she talks, I have a weird urge to strangle something. If that was the intention, then good job. If not, then what the f**k?

Also, what the f**k is up with Pierce?! He's a racist, homophobic, bigoted old man, yet apparently, he has fans? I mean, sure, he has moments of brilliance and worthwhile speeches that are admirable. But then I remember the episode where he pantsed Shirley, and that is something I will never forgive, no matter the occasional heartwarming moment or funny line he offers.

So that's what I think about Community. If you have a chance, give it a watch for yourself. It might not all be worth it by the end, but neither Community college when you think about it. So really, it's just fine.

#community #what i thought about #quick thoughts

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wistfulthiinking · 3 years

Text

working hard to get my fill, everybody wants a thrill. paying anything to roll the dice just one more time. some will win, some will lose. some were born to sing the blues. oh, the movie never ends. it goes on and on, and on, and on. don't stop believin' -- hold on to that feeling.

how long has your character been in WASHINGTON?

nearing on three years. like many others within the city, he made his way across the country upon graduation from high school. as he is under the spell of the magic that hangs over washington, finn’s memory is programmed to believe that he grew up in franklin, tennessee. raised by a single mother that worked two jobs to keep their tiny family afloat, finn always found his solace in football. luckily enough for him, he was a natural talent and all too soon became something of a star athlete in the state, his name is familiar even in nearby Nashville.

what is your character’s JOB?

finn is unemployed at the moment and is solely a student at george washington university. more importantly, however, he is the quarterback of the george washington colonials football team. it was never lost on him that he owed football a great deal -- it wasn’t as if he’d gotten a scholarship to college based on his grades or academic ability. it just begins to feel a bit difficult to hold onto that scholarship and quarterback role when he’s so very close to failing all of his classes. finn had made the choice to study business based solely on the idea that he could become a mega-rich ceo someday, giving his future family a life that contrasted so severely from his own. plus, he wanted to pay his mom back -- the woman was nothing short of a saint and she deserved the best that the world had to offer, in finn’s eyes. despite the best of intentions, it seemed life was laughing squarely in the face of his plans.

where has your character been PULLED from in their fandom?

the end of season four, the capital-e end for finn. it was all too tragic, the swift and untimely end of a man who was just beginning to find himself. pieces of his alternate self linger in his mind, that once drew him towards the siren’s song of music city. pieces that make him question his idea to study business and plant a desire towards music or teaching.

has any MAGIC affected your character?

yes, but the magic grows increasingly weaker as the clock continues to tick. he’s now older than he grew to be in his alternative life and it seems that with each passing day -- each extension of his life that he’s been miraculously gifted, doors to that life begin to unlock. the clues are subtle, faint tickling upon his brain when he’s met with something that would have been significant to the finn hudson of lima, ohio. the man has been singing in the shower for as long as he could talk, his soul lightening and growing wings as his notes swelled and his range expanded. the way he would sneak to concerts in nashville and sing his lungs out in the crowd. but all of this was his secret as tennessee’s finn hudson never had the embrace of the new directions to bring him out of his musically repressed shell. as the responsibility of adult life looms over him in the next few years, he feels himself less drawn to business and more drawn to becoming a teacher. certainly less financially secure, this intense desire shocks him every single time it crashes over his body like a wave. it’s an instinct, something visceral that tells him teaching is his calling -- that he would be good, maybe even great as an educator though he’d never given the career path a single thought before. then these puzzle pieces grow increasingly obscure when the mere sight of a gold colored star makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up and sends tingles down his spine. he has learned to mostly ignore that as it’s just too odd to have any real meaning -- right? then comes the things he can’t ignore, the things that scare him right down to the bone. these include the way his hands shake and sweat beads on his forehead when he gets behind the wheel of a car, the pause he gives when he’s about to throw back a gulp of alcohol or the cringe when the liquid hits his tongue, the two are almost always connected. in finn’s mind, it reads like a premonition -- that he’s doomed to die in a drunk driving related vehicle accident. it’s never occurred to him that it has already come true in some alternative reality. but it wouldn’t, would it? other dimensions and past lives aren’t real. not to finn hudson and he stuffs the fear back down into the deep recesses of his mind until he’s gripped by the horror when they inevitably resurface.

is there any ADDITIONAL INFORMATION about your character?

finn is my little baby love. yes, he’s a dumbass who has hurt people, but i think he’s always at least attempted to redeem himself. he deserves a good life, a long one and i want to give him that here to the best of my ability. all around, he has a huge and beautiful heart.

also i’m sorry for making finn freakin’ hudson so dark at moments in this intro. :) and i can’t wait for everything to come crashing down around him when the magic wears off. woo.

are there any wanted CONNECTIONS?

FRIEND GROUP ( open to m/f/nb ): finn thrives on friendship and, of course, he’s a college quarterback -- he’s gotta be at least somewhat popular. give me all the friendships !

FRIEND(S) WITH BENEFITS ( open to f/nb/m ): i love the drama of a fwb scenario just to see where it goes. this can also be related to the friend group wanted connection as well !

EXES ( open to f/nb/m ): give me ex-partner drama. i crave it.

HIS MOOSE [muse] ( open to f/nb ): ofc, bless my finchel lovin’ heart, my mans needs someone he absolutely adores to help him embrace his inner music lover and for him to learn to adore the things about himself that he despises. this boy needs guidance or he just can’t get it right.

#hw: intro #death tw #car accident tw #alcohol tw #injury tw #dead body tw #tw birdies deep despair over cory monteith #also dont stop believin is synonymous w finn hudson dont @ me

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jq37 · 4 years

Text

The Report Card – Fantasy High Sophomore Year Ep 17

Then Perish (in which the Plot is Happening No Matter How Many Nat 20’s you Roll Ally Beardsley)

Strap in my dudes. It’s a wild one.

Last ep, we’d just entered the forest of the nightmare king and things went sideways pretty quickly. All of the non-familiar NPCs have been poofed away and Kalina is currently fully killing Kristen. Riz, recently cured by Kristen (something that seemed to genuinely distress Kalina), can hear Tracker getting further and further away from them in wolf form. He gives Kristen his flare gun, tells her to run, and looks for the pollen they need to make the Kalina vaccine. Kalina disappears and in comes Sandra-Lynn with a weird mandrake-y plant for Kristen to bite. But, with a nat 20, she realizes that she’s seeing an illusion and Kalina is trying to get her to bite and reinfect Riz.

All of the Bad Kids try to find each other, using all the tricks at their disposal to move faster (Fly, Jump, Dashing, etc). Fabian gets the Hangman to meet them at the edge of the forest with Gilear. Kristen shoots up the flare (presumably to alert Gilear of her position?) and cures herself as she runs, trying to buy time. Kalina tries to make a deal with her so she and her friends will destroy the photo of her and their crystals but Kristen is not about that at all. She just tells everyone to run. Once Fig catches up with her, she does her one better and Dimension Doors with her almost all of the way out of the forest (after Fabian hits her with some Heroism which gives her regening temp HP to help combat the constant damage Kalina is doing). This cuts down the rounds needed to escape from 44 to a much more manageable 12. She manages to just get out alive after 24d6 of damage and Kalina is stuck at the edge of the forest with a threatening, “Get you next time.” The rest of the Bad Kids also make it out without too much trouble due to all their speed buffs.

After everyone takes a tight five to be like, “Welp, that sucked,” they head to the Tinkerer’s Hall to enlist help with making tinctures. Overnight (together with Riz--since Kristen has quarantined herself) they’re able to make six doses of the tincture. Meanwhile, Fig learns more about her bass and Gorgug gets a new Ax from the very grateful tinkerers. Fig’s bass does a lot to help her be effective while she’s being attacked by all sides but--most importantly (imo)--gives her a +5 to performance checks, something I think Brennan is gonna live to regret. Speaking of regret, Fig is beset by whispers of guilt for her “fault” in the disappearance of their friends. Let’s put a pin in that. Gorgug gets a choice between a sick lightning ax and a dope gravity ax. He picks the latter, which, among other things, gives him auto-crits on objects (which seems like a plot tease for sure). While this is going on, Adaine makes two days worth of progress on a spell for Ayda. Kristen, who is being understandably sad in the van, prays to “not knowing” and gets her spells back, clearly (to us at least) missing something as she rolls a Nat 1 perception check.

The gang cures Kristen with a dose of tincture then they upload the video of Kalina Riz took with his tie cam (which, btw, can scan for good and evil while recording and only pings Celestial magic from Tracker and Kristen, Kalina doesn’t ping as either). To my immediate delight, they post the video (respectfully clipped to not include Tracker) as sort of a fantasy version of The Dress, and it very quickly goes viral as people try to figure out why some people can see the tabaxi in it and some can’t.

Back to Fig for a bit, Fig realizes the whispers in her head berating her aren’t external. They’re internal. She says she’s better than being loud than quiet and attempts to drown them out rather than ignore them. Fig realizes that, now that she’s out of the forest, Ayda’s feather is glowing again. Using that connection, Adaine tries to Scry on Ayda and sees that she (along with Zathriel) are caught in a horrifying web with web going into all of their face holes. Ayda’s eyes are clear because the fire of her eyes burn out the webs but she's full on weeping. She’s also trying to use the bloody earring Fig gave her to teleport back to her (knew that was gonna come back, at least for flavor) but her restraints won’t allow it. This absolutely lights a fire under Fig’s ass and she is ready to go back into the forest immediately. Before they do, Gorgug gives his Van to the gnomes (since it was bought with KVX money) and Riz makes one of the potions into a tranq dart for Tracker.

The journey to the temple Adaine saw in her Scry is two days away which means a bunch of sleep and navigation checks (without the Van or Tracker there to cast a Moon Haven). They sleep in shifts with Kristen, Fabian, and Fig sleeping first. Kristen rolls and 19 and Fig gets a 17 with Adaine’s Portent. Fabian is the low man with a 10. Even though Fig seemingly made the check, we still get dream narration for her as she is met by a pre-horned, 13 y/o version of herself who berates her. But Fig (who has made the check and can leave the nightare at any time) says she’s so much happier now than she’s ever been and boom! She loses her College of Whispers subclass and becomes a College of Lore Bard (gaining the Cutting Words feature). Whispers banished, she finds she’s able to communicate with Gorthalax who tells her being a devil doesn’t just have to be about being “evil”. At its core, being a devil is about rebellion. It’s about flipping off the universe, something Fig can very much vibe with.

When Fabian wakes up, not having had a dream, he sees a familiar, tri-cornered hat a little ways away. As soon as he steps away from the group, he is possessed and starts attacking his friends--brutally as per DM’s orders. Luckily, Adaine has a low portent roll to give him, Riz has a net gun, and Gorgug now has a super heavy axe which he simply lays on Fabian, restraining him. They snap Fabian out of it and Adaine can tell it wasn’t an ambient effect of the forest. It’s something that was actively cast on Fabian (the same thing that was cast on Fig when she gem’d Gorthalax). However, it’s probably stronger in the forest. They also realize that when the Baron thing happened, Riz was attacked but not possessed and he also didn’t go to sleep. So, if they go through the forest not sleeping, they’ll be safe from possession at least. The next three are able to sleep without problem (even Riz who rolled a 7) but, in the morning, they don’t do so hot on their navigation checks. Instead of losing time, they decide to push through to the temple.

When they get there, they see that it’s basically surrounded by skeletons, like people just showed up to lay down and die. Something above the entrance has been moved and they also see (from much more recently) three sets of footsteps joined by a fourth set halfway (boots, not talons or paws). Adaine casts Locate Creature on her mom but doesn’t sense her within 1000 ft. Riz takes point and decides to scout the temple and report back. On a Nat 20 for a total of 30 Investigation, he fully cases the joint in less than ten minutes. He sees a brick of Dusk Moss and a bunch of spooky books which he realizes means a ritual happened to take the casters almost further into the forest in some kind of non-euclidean direction. He sees a skeleton of a unicorn filled with webs and egg sacs which died looking at a portrait of a woman in a black robe with black hair but the face is destroyed.

Riz reports back all of this to his friends and Adaine decides that she’ll shoulder full responsibility for looking at the potentially evil books, trusting her friends to snap her out of it if she gets possessed or something. Equally supportive in their own ways, Fig plays a countercharm for her off to the side and Riz points a gun at her. From reading the book, Adaine is able to piece together a lot about the mechanics of what’s going on. There is a tree in the center of the forest (the broom that was turned into a tree) which helps to boost all the illusions in the forest. Because of this, illusions are all more real. For example, illusory wings created with Disguise Self would actually grant you flight. The Dusk Moss used in the ritual was probably to give them some measure of control over the insane nightmares (as in, “I know this is a dream sorta, therefore I can’t be hurt”). Brennan says Adaine would probably be able to do the ritual with some time and study. Siobhan Galaxy Brains and scours her spell list for spells involving illusions for what she calls, “some fuckery” (“Give me the fuckery,” Brennan says, even the game DM). Adaine wants to use Illusory Script to write a spell that will allow her to do the ritual with the hope that it will become real. Brennan looks directly into the camera like it’s The Office and asks for a DC 30 Arcana check. She doesn’t get it but she does get the sense that the principle behind the idea is solid. Anyway, back to the other transubstantiations. The Familiar to a Plague is, as we all already knew, Kalina who is controlling the illusions in the forest. The Spellbook is the KVX coin and is (1) aligned with the Enchantment school of magic and (2) responsible for the possessions that have been happening (ie: Fig, Ragh, and Fabian this ep). The Sanctum to Cottage is aligned with the Abjuration school of magic and basically a trap for Celestials coming into the forest and also will prevent certain levels of spellcasting as they get progressively deeper. And now back to the tree (he doesn’t say the school of magic it is and also he says there are four when there are actually 8 so I’m not sure which school it’s supposed to represent--Divination maybe since that’s Adaine’s school?). The forest becomes alive the further in they go. The more safe they feel, the more the paths will move around. The only way to get they can get to the center is by feeling fear and uncertainty--which has got to be simultaneously great and terrible news for someone with major anxiety to get.

All of that is all going on in the main chamber. Meanwhile, Gorgug is in the hallway and Fabian is in the chapel with Kristen who is checking out the picture of the goddess. Kristen, on international DM’s day, rolls a nat 20 religion check because of course she does. She hears the goddesses’s voice in her head. “Why do you search for me?” Kristen says she’s really into the praise through doubt thing. Brennan makes her roll a Con check with disadvantage--13.

He says, “I’m gonna describe what Kristen sees and then I’m going to describe what Fabian saw,” instantly activating my Fight or Flight.

Kristen feels a wave of spite, rage, and betrayal from the goddess and then she feels blinding pain as the unicorn skeleton runs over and gores her through the heart from the back.

“What praise will you have in death?” the voice in her head says, as she collapses, fully lifeless.

The unicorn turns to a panicked Fabian (who is only not driven mad by his immunity to Fear) and says, “You should not have come here.”

In conclusion, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Detention

Brennan for Killing Kristen on a Nat 20

Using a Nat 20 to kill a player is such a power move and please do not let this placement make you think I don’t respect the unmitigated gall.

Honor Roll

Adaine for An Incredible Piece of Fuckery

The fact that it didn’t work doesn’t change the fact that this was a Galaxy Brain connection that she made instantly and will almost certainly end up saving their asses. Mark my words: Before the end of the season, some Looney Tunes-ass painting a black circle to make a real hole type nonsense is gonna happen.

Random Thoughts

Emily’s constant awe at Ally’s dice rolls is so funny to me. She’s like head parishioner at the church of Ally’s dice.

“Don’t bite the baby your mom gives you.”

Adaine taking pics of Fabian on Gorgug’s back while running out of the forest.

The teamwork shown during Kristen’s rescue? *chef’s kiss*

“It doesn’t protect you from losing all your friends in a forest.” Ow.

Emily going, “Thank you Brennan,” like a little kid when she got her new bass’s stats.

“All of our girlfriends are in there!”

Brennan, upon being denied a wisdom save from Emily: You have to! I asked.

Ice feast?????? Ally, what????

There is very much a world where the Bad Kids immediately leveraged Fig’s social media presence to get a better sample size on what was going on with Kalina. I wonder what would have happened if they’d gone viral with it much earlier.

Ayda was drawn to the cottage with Zathriel because she’s part Celestial apparently. Are Phoenixes Celestial? That’s news to me.

Also, on the topic, very Concerned about where the remaining NPCs are.

The fact that Ayda had Fig’s earring in her hand while bound and unable to move much or do a spell that would allow her to get it into her hand implies that her split second reaction when captured was to reach for it and that was the one thing she could do before she was incapacitated which is A Lot.

Kristen keeps asking Riz to hold the tranq gun because she wants to look out for Tracker, which is sweet but you have -3 Dex girl. The kindest thing you can do is never touch that gun and toss Riz some Bless.

The break they took between leaving the forest and going back Concerned me as it was happening. I was like, y’all literally anything could be happening right now. I had no sense on the amount of tie they realistically had to spare before something unreversable happened.

Lol at Brennan clearly trying to throw some levels of exhaustion at the party and them just rolling out of it, no problem.

I feel like Brennan knew Kristen was dying this episode no matter what and I gotta say: (1) I think it’s a great skill as a DM to keep our story on the tracks while also having the players actions matter and have meaningful consequences and (2) I wonder if she hadn’t gotten a Nat 1 when she got her spells back, if we’d get some information that could potentially contextualize what happened.

I do not remember what the unicorn’s deal is but I remember it was mentioned specifically at the top of the season and I don’t trust anything about it--separately from the fact that it gored our girl. Was it speaking independently or was the goddess speaking through it? Or was it just the unicorn the whole time and Brennan was lying--not for the first time that episode?

Fig being asked by her younger nightmare self what all the people in her life who had bad stuff happen to them have in common: Aguefort Advenuring Academy?

The image of an angel falling out of heaven and then rising up to flip off God and go, “F You,” is so cinematic that it makes me upset there aren’t animatics for this show.

I am dying to know whether Brennan thought about the implications of making a setting where illusions are hyper-real in a game where Emily Axford is lousy with illusion magic. Did he consider it? Is there a mechanic to limit this? Or, next week, is Emily gonna say, “I cast disguise self on myself and I disguise myself as a super buff version of me with sick devil wings and I also create a minor illusion of a tiny, fairy, cleric.” What could stop her? Minor Illusion is a cantrip, guys. It’s a CANTRIP. I feel like either Brennan wildly miscalculated and made himself a double edged sword which Emily and Siobhan are gonna use to make him eat his dice OR he’s about to throw some absolutely unfair nonsense at them that even he doesn’t know the way out of and he’s trusting them to harness the power of the fuckery to figure it out. Either way, there are only 3 episodes left so I guess there’s only so much they can break the game in 3 episodes (she said, fully expecting to be proved wrong).

“Crunch it up bro.”

When Brennan was talking about the ritual, he said, “Your parents and stuff” with regard to who did it, which makes me think Anguin was the fourth figure. But the “and stuff” is vague hedging language which makes me think we’re still being played. Brennan, tell me what’s going on in Abernant-Land, I’m begging you bro.

One thing I didn’t mention in the main recap because it was getting long is the 4 transubstantiations were done on 4 gifts from the 4 tribes who worshiped the goddess The cat was from the wood elves. The sanctum was holy to the centaurs. I think the sprite was the spellbook which would make the broom from the treents.

Partial credit to @camwritery for this: Brennan gave Gorgug a weapon that, among other effects, insta-crits on inanimate objects. Which is a random ability unless a future plot point involves destroying some items--a la the pylons they destroyed earlier in what feels like a tutorial level in retrospect. And camwritery is the one who pointed out, hey, isn’t there a super important tree in the middle of the forest? Magic axe? Magic tree? Feels connected y’all.

Everyone getting new gear and spells the past two eps has felt like that scene in Lion/Witch/Wardrobe where Santa shows up and is like, “Here are some weapons kids. Shit’s about to hit the fan!”

The fact that Riz escaped possession on a 7 seems to be explained by the fact that the cursed money is linked to possession and he gave all of his away. Which means Fabian and Adaine are still in danger, along with I think Fig since she kept her tour money which is likely infected.

Anyone else get Wrinkle in Time/The Boy Who Reversed Himself vibes from all the dream travel talk this ep?

OK, I guess we gotta talk about Kristen dying for the third time in her life. Poor girl. She’s just trying her best to be a good person and earnestly trying to find meaning in the world. And what has it gotten her? Killed three times. And yet she keeps trying! The fact that it’s her makes me kinda more and less worried at the same time, you know? Because she is currently the sole healer on the team which is BAD--if Fabian went down, it wouldn’t be as big of a deal because Kristen would presumably just need to make her fright check and then cast Revivify. K-girl doesn’t have anyone to heal her (barring some illusion shenanigans from Fig or Adaine). However, Kristen’s motto might as well, “Whatever does kill you makes you stronger.” She basically has an at least 1 death per season clause written into her contract. If anyone can face death with grit and come out singing (and prob with some sick new powers) it’d be her. What an absolutely brutal way to end the episode.

She was mentioned in this episode for a hot sec I think--that racist ranger from earlier in the season--I don’t trust her. She could just be a one off NPC but I feel like there’s more to her.

So I guessed correctly that the photos of Kalina would end up being a bargain chip potentially but somehow it didn’t occur to me that they could just...leave. Lol, I was like, “I guess they’re in it,” and they were like, “Yeah, bye.”

Kalina didn’t come after the gang in the forest the second time except maybe to possess Fabian if she did that directly. I wonder why that was. She had plenty of time.

I don’t like this spider motif. I don’t trust this spider motif. My spidey sense is going off re: this spider motif. I just want that on the record.

This episode, Adaine rolled 1 Nat 20, Riz got 2, and Kristen rolled 3 but one was cancelled out by disadvantage. Meanwhile, Fig, Kristen, and Gorgug each rolled one Nat 20 each.

#fantasy high #fantasy high live #dimension 20 #fantasy high spoilers #dimension 20 spoilers

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ayma-nidiot · 3 years

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“Don’t Speak Their Names”- Shrimpshipping fic Chapter 12

This chapter on AO3 can be found here.

Chapter 12 - Parental Lecture

“We sure have been finding ourselves here a lot, haven’t we?” Rex spoke as he sipped on decaf coffee.

“Should you even be drinking that, dino brain?”

“What do you mean?” Dr. Saurus asked.

That’s none of your- Rex wouldn’t have to complete his thought, as the “Dweeb Patrol” all came in at once.

“Ugh, you just jinxed it,” Amber whined.

“Hey, the pretty lady’s back!”

Duke chuckled, that was until Joey stepped on his foot. “Don’t you ever learn?” Joey talked to Amber more amiably. “I’m sorry, Amber. Please don’t leave.”

“...” Amber looked away from this group that joined her.

“Long time, no see.”

Rex couldn’t look at Mai when she spoke to him, not after remembering what her last words to him were. “Y-Yeah.”

“I haven’t been seeing you around lately,” Joey noted. “What have you been up to?”

“Oh, uh…” Rex wasn’t ready to let his “friends” know about his… condition. “You know, just dueling!”

“Very quietly, apparently,” spoke Tristan. “There was a tournament just last month in Domino City. I was surprised that neither you nor Weevil entered. Even though Amber won it fairly easily.”

“Hah, hah, hah…”

Joey could tell that Rex was running out of excuses. “Rex, you can tell us. What is the real reason you were AWOL?”

Luckily - or rather, not so luckily - an extremely angry phone call from Ptera would answer that question. “Rex Raptor! Where are you, young man?”

“I’m just at the café with friends. What’s the big deal?”

Ptera’s voice was so loud that everyone at the table could hear her, even without speaker. “For goodness’ sake, Rex, you’re pregnant! You need to rest! Come back here right now!”

“Sigh… Yes, Mom.”

When Rex hung up his phone, an awkward silence lingered in the air. Joey was the first one to break that silence. “What on Earth was that about?”

“I guess the cat’s out of the bag now.” Rex arose from the table slowly and showed everyone his baby bump.

“It can’t be… But how?” Tristan asked.

“Hmm, how can I simplify it for you dweebs? I had sex with this guy ,” Rex pointed to Weevil, “and thanks to the fact that I magically have a uterus, I am now four months pregnant. And if you’re wondering where I was, I was puking my guts out so badly that I had to be in the hospital for the past two months.

“I’m sorry, Rex…” Mai apologized. “It’s all my fault. If I didn’t give you that sex advice, you wouldn’t be this way.”

“Oh no, don’t worry your pretty head about it.” Rex patted his baby bump. “Truth be told, I can’t wait to be a fa- er, mother. Or whatever you want to call me.”

“And I’m sure you can’t wait to face your Mom’s wrath,” Weevil spoke as he checked the notification on his phone; it was a text from Roach. “I know I can’t wait to talk to Father when I get home.”

“Then I guess this is goodbye for now,” spoke Joey as Rex and Weevil laid some money on the table. “Let me know when your baby shower is so I can get your bundle of joy a little something.”

“Y-You got it, man…” After he parted with Weevil with a kiss, Rex began his way back home. “A baby shower, huh? I’ve got a lot more to plan for than I thought.”

While Ptera read the Riot Act to her son, Weevil was about to receive his own parental lecture. He stalled for as long as he could get away with before actually walking in the direction of his house. He ignored the greetings of Adelaide and all the other maids and butlers, and

headed straight for Roach’s office. “...Father.”

“...Son.” After noticing that Weevil wouldn’t sit down, Roach continued, “You have a lot of audacity to be heading to town so often when you couldn’t even earn the top spot at high school.”

“...” Weevil glared at his father without saying a word.

“Don’t look at me like that! You have a lot to make up for! If you want me to accept you as my son, then you need to study so you can graduate from college magna cum laude!”

“...Who said that I wanted - or needed - your approval?” Weevil began to talk back for the first time.

“Excuse me?”

“All you ever do is treat me like I’m some perfect little plaything! At least Rex treats me like a human being. Actually, he treats me as more than that. He’s the one person I adore more than anything else in the world. And now that he bears my child, I have all the more reason to be with him.”

“What… did… you… just… say?”

“That’s right! Rex Raptor, that poor kid you hate so much, is pregnant with your grandchild!”

“Is that what you’re telling yourself?”

“What?”

“So you think you’re normal, huh? That you can marry another man and have kids with him like you’re not an abomination?”

“Father!”

Roach sharply arose from his seat. “Get out of my house right now, you faggot! You are no son of mine!”

“I’ve actually been waiting for this day for a long time.” Weevil smirked. “Unfortunately for you, I’ve already packed as much money and as many of my belongings as I could into one bag. So yeah, I’ll get out of your house right now, Roach. ”

Before Roach could say, “stop this instant,” Weevil had already raced for his now-old room, and began wheeling his giant suitcase out of the house. He had made it about halfway to Rex’s house when he realized he was being followed. Knowing immediately who it was, Weevil stopped in his tracks. “Adelaide, you bloody fool. You didn’t have to run away too.”

“I couldn’t bear to work for that snake anymore.” Adelaide had only a small handbag with a few clothes, a cheap phone, her Duel Disk, and ¥10000. “But more than that, I couldn’t bear to see him torture you so, Master Weevil.”

“Adelaide…” Weevil’s voice shook. “You’ve already taught me how to duel, and have taken care of me when Roach would not… Honestly, you’re doing too much.”

“I’d say I’m not doing enough. Ever since I moved into the Underwood household, you’re the only one who’s treated me with kindness… The only one whom I could call a friend.”

“S-Stop!” Weevil had begun to cry, even as his trusted maid hugged him. “You’re making me all sappy!”

“There is only one problem… Where will we go now?”

“I know just the place.”

_______

Rex looked up at the door when he heard a knock on it, but did not get up from his comfy supine position on the living room couch. “Mom, can you get that? I’m too busy studying and being pregnant on the couch.”

“Oh, so now you acknowledge you need rest.” Ptera’s smile dropped when she saw Weevil and Adelaide at her door. “Weevil!”

“Weevil? He’s here?” Now Rex wanted to get up, and he urged his boyfriend in the house. “Baby, what are you doing here? And with a big-ass suitcase, no less?”

“I’m not on speaking terms with Roach anymore. If it wasn’t obvious already, I’ve run away from home. I want to live here with you.”

Tricera came to the living room to see what all the commotion was about. “Weevil, honey, you’re more than welcome to stay here. We’ll even get you a job at the restaurant, if you want.”

“Thank you. I’ll probably take you up on that offer.”

Adelaide was still very confused about the situation, and felt left out. “Master Weevil, I can take your suitcase to your new room, if you would like.”

“Oh? And who might you be?” Rex asked.

“This is my maid and friend, Adelaide Windsor,” Weevil answered. “Adelaide, this is my boyfriend, Rex Raptor, who is also the mother of my unborn child. These two amazing ladies are his parents, Ptera and Tricera Raptor.”

Adelaide stared at these strangers absentmindedly before speaking. “I-I’m sorry! It’s just, I’ve never met people like you before. But if you have been kind to Master Weevil all these years, then you’re friends of mine.”

“Huh.” This new resident of the Raptor household piqued Rex’s interest. “I don’t suppose you know how to duel?”

In response, Adelaide took out her Duel Disk, and for a split second her demeanour did a complete 180º. “Young man, I’ve been dueling for almost as long as you’ve been alive. In fact, it was I that taught Master Weevil how to duel.”

“Sweet! I’ll show you what my duelin’ dinos are made of!””

“The only thing you’ll be showing anyone is how smart you are.” Ptera put her son’s duelin arm down.

“Yeah, yeah.” Rex returned to the couch and opened his laptop - a fancy one he received as a birthday gift from Weevil last year.

After she had put Weevil’s suitcase in Rex’s room, and the bug duelist had sat down to watch T.V., Adelaide turned to Rex. “Master Rex, is there anything you would like me to cook for you?”

“Takoyaki with chocolate syrup!” Rex held a thumbs up without looking up.

“You got it!” Adelaide noticed the mountain of dishes in the kitchen sink. “If you like, Madame Ptera, I can wash those for you after we’re done with dinner.”

“You’re too kind!” Ptera lightly hit Adelaide on the shoulder. “Oh, and just call me ‘Ptera.’”

“But if you’re letting me stay here, the least I could do is serve you, just as I’ve served Master Weevil.”

“Would you like a job at our family restaurant too?” Tricera called all the way from the loo.

“Could I? That way, I can actually pay rent.” Adelaide interrupted Ptera before she could say anything. “I insist on it, just like I insist on how I address you.”

Weevil smiled as he took a seat next to Rex on the couch. “This… I could get used to this.” He let his hand linger on Rex’s baby bump. “Finally, I can have a real family life. And now, I can help take care of not only the man I love, but also my child.”

#yugioh #ygo #shrimpshipping #ryuhaga #mpreg #gay slur tw

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eddiesasspbrak · 4 years

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When I’m With You Ch. 19

Eddie can’t stand the barista at his favorite coffee shop. Richie has fallen in love with the man he sees twice a week. Stan is dating someone but won’t let his friends meet them. Ben is in love with Beverly, but is so afraid of scaring her away he’s not moving forward. Chaotic friends navigating college together.

(HEADS UP emotional manipulation from a parental figure ahead. Proceed with caution)

Ch. 1

Read on AO3

3k+ words

The café was bustling when they arrived. The line went out the door and Mike and Bill were practically blurs flying around behind the counter trying to keep up with the mess. Eddie led them to the back of the line, ignoring his mother’s grumbling about the crowd and the inevitable long wait. He was trying to think positively, something that was nearly impossible with her around. In his head, everything would work out fine and the day would end without incident. Of course, he knew the truth and was sure she already hated Richie, but he had to hold out hope because he was finally happy.

“This line is ridiculous. How slow can they possibly be?” She griped.

Eddie held his tongue and was grateful that Richie did the same. He was sure that he wanted to say the same thing sitting on his tongue begging to be said. They thought they had the day off and had fun last night only to be dragged out of bed hungover and exhausted and are trying their best to get the line down without mistake! The little half-moon indents his nails were working into his palms would be sore later, but it helped Eddie keep his mouth shut.

As they finally got to the door, the person in front of it holding it open with their shoulder, they could see just how tired the duo looked. Bill had bags under his eyes as he took orders, stepping away from the register from time to time to pour plain coffee for a waiting customer. Mike zipped around making the more complicated drinks. The pastry case was scarce with no time to make trips to the back. Feeling for his friends and wanting to get away from the hateful words directed at them from Sonia before he said anything he’d regret; Richie shouldered his way past the line.

“I’m going to go help.” Was his only explanation and then he was inside, making his way to the counter.

Bill and Mike both lit up when they saw their friend coming to their rescue. Richie immediately went to the register, not bothering with an apron, relieving Bill who ran to the back for more baked goods. The three were always a treat to watch as they wove around each other flawlessly, not knocking into each other and seeming to read each other’s minds in the process. Eddie always thought it was a testament to their friendship how well they could work together. Eddie wondered if he, Ben and Stan would be the same. He couldn’t imagine them working together but they had their own strengths in their friendship.

For instance, when Eddie and his mom made it into the café, Stan, who had been draped across a table looking half dead, sat up straight and plastered a big fake smile on his face. His friends knew they had to put on a show to prevent things getting more difficult for Eddie.

“Mrs. Kaspbrak, how lovely to see you.”

“Stanley.” She said his name with a wrinkle of her nose as if she smelled something disgusting. “I didn’t realize you two were still friends.”

“Mom, I talk about him all the time. I told you I was with him just last week. Ben too.” Eddie said, hoping his smile was sweet enough that she wouldn’t be angered by his words.

“Right. A distraction from your studies.”

“Well...actually...Ben and I have a class together. So...we...study...together.” Eddie was losing his voice as his mother’s expression turned annoyed. He hated how afraid he was to anger her. Hated that Richie was going to see him like this. Why did he think this was a good idea again? Oh right, he’d been lost in the fantasy that he had a normal parent who maybe might be happy that he had a good group of friends who cared for him and a boyfriend who he loved. Instead he had Sonia. Judgmental of all, overprotective, no one good enough for her poor fragile little boy. Except he wasn’t. He’d hurt himself and gotten over it without her help. It was his friends who took care of him until he was well again. He’d always heard the saying ‘friends are the family you choose’ and he definitely believed that. But he wasn’t able to just cut her off. Not yet at least. He hoped one day when he wasn’t financially dependent he would have the strength to separate himself from her. Another dream for another time.

“I thought we came here for coffee and a snack. Not to interact with your...friends.” She said the word with a sneer as if it tasted bad in her mouth.

“Well I...my friends work here.”

“Those slow boys?” She asked.

“Mike and Bill.” Stan was holding back the protective anger he felt for his boys.

“It’s almost our turn mom, we can leave after we get coffee.” Eddie was beginning to feel hopeless. This was a bad idea. He should have just walked right past Richie when he saw him at the building. He shouldn’t have brought his mom here to meet his friends. She would never approve no matter what he did.

As they reached the front of the line, a small smile lit up on Richie’s lips when he saw Eddie. “Something special again today Spa...ah...ahem, Eddie?”

“Small black coffee.” Eddie said, knowing his mom would disprove of him getting one of the sugary drinks Richie made for him. He hoped she didn’t hear the disappointment in his voice.

“I’ll have a frozen blended vanilla drink. Large.” She said, eyeing the tray Bill was carrying out of pastries. “Are those chocolate chip scones?”

“Yes, they are.” Richie said, beaming.

“I’ll take two of those.”

“You know mom, Richie makes most of the pastries they sell here. They’re really good.” Eddie felt a swell of pride and thought maybe his mom wouldn’t mind having a future son in law who could bake.

“Well I certainly hope so since I’m spending my hard-earned money on them.” She grumbled as she handed over her card.

Finished paying, Eddie gave Richie an apologetic look, grabbing the bag of scones, before moving to the end of the counter to wait for their drinks. Mike caught Eddie’s eye as he poured the two cups of coffee. It had calmed down considerably since Richie had started helping them out.

“Hey Eddie. Didn’t expect to see you here today.” He greeted, setting his plain coffee on the counter.

“I ran into Richie and I was telling my mom how great the coffee and pastries are here. She wanted to try them for herself so here we are.” He grinned. “Mom, this is Mike. He’s a friend of mine. Mike this is my mom.”

“Mrs. Kaspbrak, nice to meet you.” Mike had heard Stan greet her, figuring he’d call her the same way.

“Michael was it? Make sure my drink isn’t too cold. I have sensitive teeth.”

“Uh...sure. Absolutely.” Mike wasn’t sure how to make a frozen drink less cold without it melting and based on what he’d heard about her from Stan, he figured this was a setup. Especially with the ashamed and embarrassed way Eddie was looking at him. Still, he did his best to make it and hoped she wouldn’t say it was too cold. The last thing he wanted was for Eddie to feel bad because his mom makes a scene over a drink order. He already seemed extremely wound up, ready to snap under the pressure any second. He and Bill hadn’t known Eddie for very long, but they already cared for him and had been worried about him since he’d announced the visit.

Luckily, when she accepted her order and took a sip she had no reaction whatsoever, good or bad. Mike breathed out a sigh of relief as did Eddie. When they turned back to the table Stan occupied, they found Ben and Bev had arrived without their noticing. Ben knew how to handle his mom, but he was a bit worried about Bev. Sure, they’d warned her, but if Sonia said the wrong thing and offended her, he wasn’t sure Bev could keep from arguing back. Still, she smiled, a genuine smile and made her way over to them.

“Eddie!” She leaned in and planted a quick kiss to his cheek. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to show my mom my favorite coffee shop. I thought you and Ben would still be asleep.”

“Nah, Bill texted, and we came to show our support.” She turned to his mother with a sickeningly sweet grin. “You must be Mrs. Kaspbrak! It’s wonderful to meet you! I’m Beverly Marsh, Ben’s girlfriend.”

“You have a boyfriend, but you kiss another boy so easily? You don’t want men to think you're loose, do you dear?”

Bev held her grin. “I only care what Ben and my friends think and they know me well enough to know my kisses are innocent.” She turned her gaze to Eddie. “Right, Eddie?”

“Oh, um…sure. Bev is like a sister to me.”

“Such a silly notion to compare friends to family.” Sonia sighed. “Come not Eddie, I’m tired and want to rest.”

Eddie almost felt relieved to be leaving though he wished things had gone better. He longed for a magic wand he could wave and make his mother normal and accepting of his beloved friends. Baby steps. That’s all he needed. One tiny step at a time until she accepted every aspect of his life or she would lose him.

He said his goodbyes to his friends and locked eyes with Richie over his shoulder as he headed toward the door. The sympathetic, almost sad, smile he returned made Eddie want to run and leap across the counter and kiss it away. Maybe next time.

“I will never understand why you insist on being friends with those boys.” Sonia had started in on Eddie’s choice of friends as soon as they left the café and hadn’t let up. “They’re no good for you. You don’t need the distraction of socialization right now. You need to focus on school so you can graduate and come home.”

A chill went through Eddie. Home was no longer where he grew up. Home was his apartment, his friends, Richie. Most parents wanted their children to go off and find their own place in the world with people who love and support them. Not Sonia. Sonia wanted Eddie to experience the world without her and come cowering back to the safety of her bosom. Things weren’t going according to plan so she’d do what she could to drive a wedge between Eddie and his support system. He had no intention of returning to her house.

“That place was filthy. I won’t be surprised if we end up sick tonight.” She wolfed down both chocolate chip scones on the walk between harsh words without concern for getting sick. It made his belly boil because Richie likely made those scones. He was a skilled baker and she seemed to enjoy the scones. Why couldn’t she just admit that and compliment him instead? It was maddening. How could someone be so negative about everything around them all the time? It was exhausting.

“I drink their coffee several times a week and I’ve never gotten sick.” Eddie felt more emboldened now that they were out of the public eye and waiting for the elevator in his building. He wanted to protect his friends and it was bubbling up inside him to speak out in their defense. Even if it made things worse for him.

She ignored him. “And that girl. Flouncing around kissing every boy that isn’t her boyfriend. How disgusting. You don’t need a girl like that in your life. She’ll convince you to do things you’re not ready for and you’ll end up with a disease. Make sure you wash your cheek with hot water and soap when we get inside.

Things I’m not ready for? Last night I was on my hands and knees with a dick up my ass begging for more. I don’t even fuck girls. If I did, I’d be lucky to get a girl like her. “Bev isn’t like that. She loves Ben. She loves her friends.”

Again, ignored. She just didn’t want to hear it. Nothing would change her mind about them. It didn’t matter that she was hurting him by putting down the people he loved. She wouldn’t be happy until she controlled every aspect of his life and he knew it. He just didn’t want to believe that she couldn’t change. Eddie unlocked the door and stepped inside, not caring if she followed after him or not. In fact, if she’d decided to turn around and head back down to her car and leave without saying goodbye, he’d be thrilled.

“I found this group back home of other mothers who are just as close with their kids and I think it would be a good idea for us to meet with them. You can make friends who were raised right by parents who only want the best for their children.” She was grinning like she was pleased with herself. Eddie felt sick.

“There’s nothing wrong with my friends.”

“I’m sure you think so Eddie Bear, but you can do better. Better than those boys you met back home, better than that girl and the boys in the coffee shop. Especially that one with the glasses. Just because someone is your neighbor doesn’t mean you have to be friends with them.”

“Mom.” He couldn’t handle her putting down Richie. The bubbles were rising. In his chest.

“There was something off about him. I don’t trust him, and I don’t think you should be spending time with him.”

“Mom. Stop.” Up his throat.

“He looked like he doesn’t wash properly and that can negatively effect your health. Especially if you’re eating food he has prepared.

“Seriously, mom. You need to-.” Across his tongue.

“Maybe we should find you a new apartment building, so you won’t be so close to him. How much do you even know about him? He’s not a stalker is he?”

“MOM!” Pop. Eddie shouted. Sonia jolted like she’d just been slapped. Eddie had argued with her before. Raised his voice even. But not like this, not with this anger. It was radiating off of him.

“Eddie, there’s no reason to shout. I’m right here.”

“You’re not listening to me! I…I can’t do this anymore. Why did you have to come visit?”

“To check up on you and make sure you’re doing ok of course. I’m your mother. Am I not allowed to visit my son?”

“I’ve told you I’m doing fine. I’m getting good grades. I’m staying out of trouble. You don’t need to come check on me. I already come home for holidays. Just go home!”

“There is no need to be so rude, Eddie. I visit because I care about you. You don’t have anyone out here to look after you.”

“Yes! I do! You just spend the last twenty minutes berating them and you don’t even know them! You never even try to get to know them! I love them. They’re my friends and they love me too. They take care of me. We take care of each other. They are my family!”

“But Eddie-.”

“They’re important to me and I’m not going to listen to you put them down anymore! I’ve tried to keep my mouth shut. Bit my tongue to get through each visit until I taste blood, but I just can’t anymore. Ben and Stan have always been there for me. I don’t know Mike and Bill that well and they’re already so important to me and have helped me in more ways than you could possibly know. Bev is such a beautiful person who won’t hesitate to stand up for a complete stranger and who has been cheering me on since day one and Richie…Richie is the light in the darkness. He makes everything else make sense. He’s stupid and hilarious and so, so good. And I…I love him. I love them all, but I love Richie more.”

Sonia was silent for once as Eddie tried to find that last push to get the words out of his mouth once and for all. The bubbles were dissipating in his chest. He just needed one more to work its way out. To solidify what he was trying to say so she couldn’t convince herself he meant anything else. He had to get it out before she found her own words and he lost the fire in his belly. He took a deep breath, he balled his hands into fists, and he grew tall, head held high.

“I love Richie more because he’s my boyfriend. I’m gay and Richie Tozier is my boyfriend and I love him and nothing you can say or do will ever change that.”

Now that he was done. He waited for her to respond while trying to hold that empowered feeling in his chest. If he let it slip away, he wasn’t sure what he would say or do. He couldn’t lose now. Couldn’t take back what he’d said and go back to bending at her will and taking her harsh words at the expense of everything and everyone he loved. He didn’t know how she would react, what she would say.

“I understand Eddie.” That definitely wasn’t what he’d expected. “You’re an adult now. You’re going to have a lot of different experiences. That’s normal. But eventually you’ll have to grow up and move on from those childish rebellions.”

Did she mean Richie? Was she saying that being gay and dating Richie were both acts of rebellion? A phase he’d outgrow? How could she be so far in denial of what Eddie was? To believe that falling in love with another man was just a temporary fixation that would pass with age.

“You’ll grow out of it in time, but for now…I don’t want you seeing that boy.”

“What?”

“He’s not good enough for you. He’s a barista in a shabby café. You’ll end it tomorrow.”

“I will not!”

“You will. You said nothing I can do will change the way you feel.” She’d gone eerily calm as she took a step closer to Eddie. “I pay for your school. I pay for your apartment and your food. You break up with him tomorrow or I will no longer support you. As soon as you come to your senses everything will go back to normal and I’ll continue to pay your way through college. Until then, pack your bags.”

Oh.

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #It (2017)#it (2019)#Ro writes

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twinkletoes-rp · 4 years

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Princess Tutu College AU Ch. 3 - “Third Position”

(Can also read on FFN | AO3 | Previous | Next )

Two weeks later, things are better still. Fakir and Ahiru have stepped up their practicing some, mostly out of pettiness and spite so she can show up that Melody and her friends (Fakir's idea, really, but Ahiru remembered how it felt when everyone laughed at her and quickly agreed). Whenever Ahiru needs a breather or gets better at something that's tripped her up, he'll start to teach her something new, more advanced, and it's been great. She's having a lot of fun and actually learning more than she ever thought she could! She's still clumsy, and she's slow to improve, but Fakir makes sure to tell her she definitely is improving, and that's more than enough for her.

Honestly, Fakir thinks, watching her with a soft smile when he thinks she's not looking, it's great to see. Pique, Lilie, and the rest of her class are thrown, the former two at first thinking it's some kind of magic or something before begging her to spill her secrets. Her teachers are pleasantly surprised and relieved, too, especially Cat-sensei. He really didn't want to send her back to the apprentice class again, but he would if he really had to, so he's glad he dodged that particular conversation.

Ahiru herself is a lot happier, too! She and Fakir are getting along much better lately. They're actually becoming friends, maybe even close. They talk while they dance, in quiet, hushed tones, even smiling at each other and laughing together. They eat together and do the dishes together and, sometimes, when she needs it, Ahiru will ask him to help her study. They hang out together outside of practice more and more, too, when Fakir seems stressed or Ahiru needs a break. Ahiru usually pulls him along to one of his favorite reading spots (yes, she pays attention, and yet somehow he always seems surprised) so he can read and she can study or they can talk things out.

Mytho and Rue have noticed the changes in both of them, too. Mytho's been worried about how seriously his brother takes things for the longest time, and it's so good to see even those tiny smiles again, letting go for once. Rue is glad to see Ahiru happier, too. The redhead was one of the first people to reach out to her when she started here and is the entire reason she and Mytho are happily together now. She was worried, but Ahiru seems much happier and even a little more confident than when they first met.

Things have been better all-around for everyone.

Today, Ahiru is a little early for practice with Fakir, but she did that on purpose. She's usually late, after all, no matter how hard she tries, but this time, she was determined to be on time. Honestly? She's shocked it actually worked. Normally, this stuff blows up in her face—!

Suddenly, Ahiru trips and goes tumbling over something that wasn't there a second ago.

"Qua—?!"

She hisses and scrunches one eye in minor pain in sitting up, scraping her palms and skinning her knees on the ground. Luckily, she hadn't changed into her practice clothes yet or she'd have a ruined leotard on her hands. That would be just perfect… Looking up, she finds Melody's friends glaring and snickering down at her. "W-what was that for?!"

"Oh, I think you know!" the main girl spouts, auburn hair done up in a pretty bun and makeup on point. She's not much taller than Ahiru, but with her hands on her hips and glowering like this, she's somehow made herself very intimidating.

Ahiru just furrows her brow and shakes her head slowly in confusion. She's only met this girl and the others the once, and even then, she barely remembers them. "Sorry, but…I really don't…"

The older girl scoffs, rolling her eyes. "You think you're so much better than us! Just because Fakir's taken pity on you?"

Stumbling a bit in getting up and dusting herself off, Ahiru is even more confused, taken aback and a little hurt. "W-what?! No!" She shakes her head vehemently. "I don't think that at all! You guys are still way better than me, maybe than I'll ever be!" This next is the part that hurts worst of all, that starts a pained lump in her throat and sinks her stomach. "And—and Fakir's not taking pity on me! He's—he's being nice, that's all!"

"Really?" The girl draws out the word, slow and sarcastic, the smirk on her face sinister and smug. Goosebumps rush over Ahiru's skin. "Then why did I hear him calling you 'hopeless' to Mytho yesterday?"

The other girls snicker, and Ahiru blinks, pausing. Her defiant, tightly-balled fists loosen just a bit, shoulders drooping some. "He...he said that...?" she asks quietly, unable to keep the hurt out of her voice. She knows she needs work, a lot of it, but she thought...with what happened before...

"Out of fondness," a new, very familiar, decidedly pissed voice says to her left.

Ahiru jumps and looks over. Her eyes widen, and she's not sure if her chest should fill more with hope or indecision. "F-Fakir...?"

He doesn't look at her, too furious to take his eyes off these girls and too afraid to see how she might be looking at him (because he doesn't want to know he's hurt her, completely unintentionally this time). He glares at the group, who's more wary now, but still shooting Ahiru dirty looks. "I said it to Mytho and Rue when they asked about how your training was going." Ahiru's breath catches when she realizes he's explaining himself to her, really paying these girls no mind at all - a more devastating blow to their egos than anything else he could have done. It's devious, but she has to admit, she likes his style. She's come to like it more and more recently. He narrows his eyes a little more. "But I said it with a smile on my face. I laughed. You can even ask them, if you don't believe me. I meant it as a joke." He sighs, exasperated. "Honestly... Maybe I should joke more often. Maybe then things like this wouldn't get taken out of context."

He rolls his eyes, bored of these girls and their jealousy even before he walked up to see Ahiru on the ground and suddenly forgot all thoughts of practicing. This time, when he glowers, his attention is full-throttle on them. "You should learn to mind your own business. Like I told your friend: bother her again, and I will know about it. Don't think the proper school officials won't hear about this either." And he is definitely talking to Melody about this. Sending her girls to hound Ahiru like a bunch of dogs? What is this, high school? This is an elite arts college, for God's sake! They could stand to act like it!

Wrapping an arm around Ahiru's shoulders without even realizing he's doing it, Fakir steers her away from the girls and their practice building. "Ah—Fakir!" She reaches up to tug gently, yet urgently at his hand on her shoulder. "Fakir, we passed the building!"

"I know."

"What do you mean, 'you know'?!" Arms crossed over her chest, she's pouting by the time they leave the school grounds entirely. "Where are we going? Fakir—!"

"We're skipping practice today."

She stops in her tracks, forcing him to stop with her. "We are?" She tilts her head. "Are you sure that's okay?"

Fakir can't help but sputter a laugh at that. Another thing about himself since becoming friends with her he's had to get used to. Neither of them notices his arm is still around her shoulders. Unconsciously, she finds it comforting. "Of course it is. It's not like they're mandatory lessons. They're extra and our choice. It's fine." A heartbeat, and he opens one eye to look at her and smirk the slightest bit. "We're going for ice cream instead."

The starlit beam and delighted "Really?!" he gets in response is enough to blind him, have his heart stop in his chest and then restart a mile a minute, and he can only nod in response. He hopes the sunset hides the way his face burns.

"Yay!" she cheers, lifting him up into the air and squeezing him around the middle (why does he like that?!), making him yelp and blush even more. He knew she was stronger than she looked, and he's not exactly a tank, but he is much taller and more muscular than she is, lean muscle or not, so—geez! She eats like a bird, how the hell?!

Putting him down, she throws her arms tight around his middle and nuzzles in without a second thought, a muffled "Thank you, Fakir!" coming in a way that makes him feel soft and warm and protective all at once. He's about to set his arms around her, too, when she suddenly leaps away just to take his hand and start running them both down the cobblestone street. That's becoming a habit of hers, dragging him places, holding his hand...and yet, he doesn't hate it. He's still reeling from the fact that she hugged him. Hugged. Him. She's never done that before…

"Come on, let's go!"

And yet, somehow, he's unsurprised to be thinking he'd follow her anywhere.

("All right, but we're taking care of your injuries first." She whines, but he doesn't budge. Not with this, not with her. "The sooner we fix you, the sooner we get there."

"Fine…")

#Princess Tutu #Princess Tutu fanfiction #College AU #Fakiru #Fakir x Ahiru #Any feedback would be much appreciated #Thanks so much for reading Feel free to reblog

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magiccallie · 3 years

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Tomb of the Fifth Emperor 3.9k words

"Did you take my ink?" Asked a smooth faced, reddish skinned, fit young man named Lelei. "No, I have mine right... oh, sorry." The hand that returned the inkwell was much smaller than Lelei's. It had a sickly hue to its oaky skin that bespoke few meals and little exposure to the sun. The rest of the scholar reflected that assessment, nails bitten to nubs, a scrawny body in an ill-fitting tunic, hunched like a leering gargoyle in their chair, leaning over a set of freshly written pages with curls shadowing the eyes. This was Ross. "Hey, can you listen to my presentation?" Lelei grimaced, "I don't know. I should really be studying for this astronomy test. Cherrygrove doesn't let you into expeditions on brawn alone you know." "Astronomy is the one class I never hear you complaining about you'll be fine. Come on, I need another set of ears to tell me if there are obvious errors." Lelei looked at Ross's pleading eyes and sighed. "Fine, go ahead." Ross cleared their throat and stood straighter. "The Tomb of the Fifth Emporer. We know many details about the life of the fifth emperor of Amar, Haorth Dimassa, but the location of his burial site is yet unknown." "Oh is that who the fifth Emperor was?" "You didn't know that?" "I'm not a history major, I know the first Emperor and the current one." "Luckily this will go over- no, best to give details now. This isn't part of the presentation. Haorth was born in a time of conquest for the nation. Back then they were still calling themselves kings." "So why is it the fifth Emperor if he was a king? Wouldn't the first emperor be, you know, the first emperor?" "Because they are-err-uh...it is a part of how Amar paints its history, and frankly sounds better than the fifth ruler. Anyways. He was the eldest of several children, and heir to the throne. His childhood was mostly unnoteworthy, though his mother died giving birth to his youngest sibling. It is his early adolescence where we start to get any sort of noted history. Records show he spent most of two and a half cycles traveling the lands of Amar, Miburnia, Gef, and Quibalk-" "Where is Quibal-" "We are not sure but there are ideas it is now Suintia, but he was traveling with an entourage to learn about the cultures. During this time he met several life long friends, including a Quibalkian by the name of Anju. When he finally came home to Amar to stay he was welcomed and well versed in the other cultures. His father had grown ill in his absence, and it was likely Haorth would take leadership. Of course his siblings were not all happy about that. The third in line for the throne in particular, though he was but four cycles old, had stayed at home and immersed themselves in politics and courtly intrigue. Our being able to see the whole picture lets us assume it was he who had sent numerous assassins after Haorth and he who had begun to poison the fourth Emperor. Perhaps he thought of his brother as easier to deal with, for the Fourth Emperor died not a season after Haorth's return. Thus did Haorth become the Fifth Emperor, and took many lovers, including Anju. He renewed the war effort on a less violent tone, engaging in diplomacy while strong arming resistance, buying large swathes of territory for cheap honnied words. Meanwhile the second in line died under an ambush while traveling to one of these encounters, and many of his lovers were killed in 'accidents' as well. In frustration and grief, he began to look inward to strengthen his people and loved ones. He was a mage you s-" "Woah, the Fifth Emporer was a mage?" Lelei exclaimed. Ross sighed and looked at the presentation, they would not be getting to that tonight. "Yeah it was not a big thing back then. The hate for magic in the country and world would not emerge until much later, and the Witch Hunters and current- look I'm getting off topic." "What kind of mage?" "They did not use the terms we do now, but he lacked the formal training and colleges there are now, but as I was about to explain had more training and outside resources than a shaman, so a warlock would be closest." "Hold on, how do you know he was a mage at all?" "Historical texts imply that-" "Imply? So he might not even be a mage himself?" "It is widely speculated that he was a mage." "But you don't know." Lelei seemed to settle back down, Ross in turn took a deep breath, contemplating if it was an argument worth having and noting Lelei was not to be fully trusted. "So back to the point, when the death-toll began to rise, he piled his time, money, and connections together and some powerful magical tools began to show up in history. He married a Gef princess, but Anju was still showing up every other seasons or so to spend quality time together. The division between Haorth and the third sibling had grown more obvious and public. Sides began to be chosen, and Haorth began to funnel a large amount of his new assets out with Anju. It was not long before a short bloody war broke out, and in a single season Haorth, his wife, and those loyal to him were wiped out. But here is the problem, his body was never recovered by the Sixth Emperor Daz's forces. Rumors circulated for cycles about his survival, supposed sightings, and his gathering power to rerise. But also at this time, rumors of a large construction project in the Quibalkian lands drew many skilled workers from many countries. The location of it was never disclosed to Amar as a nation, and Anju and the gathered wealth were not found either, so my presentation is on it, its location, and the chances of it being the Tomb of the Fifth Emperor." Lelei shook his head. "That's crazy. He had a wild life, I hope you're right though. You know what happens if you present an expedition that fails." "Thank you, I have some back ups to make it not a total loss, but I am certainly nervous." Ross yawned. "I'm heading back to the dorm, I'm way to distracted to work more." "I'll come with you. Sorry that I did not know about any of that." "It is alright. If you tried to tell me about astronemy it would have been a roll reversal." ~ The institution of Hightop resides in the southern part of the Red Rock Mountains in the Amar Empire. While it is not known as a place of learning, and indeed does not advertise itself as such, it is known for its mastery and contributions of several arts and sciences. Among these being the study of numerous monsters and beasts, the shaping of certain rare materials into tools, weapons, and armor, and the creation of magical items. These contributions do not stay in the academic field alone, for the military and a secretive society both receive them as well. It was nestled beside an old mining town on the summit of a mountain and it built like the rest of the town. Square, squat, ugly stone buildings built low into the ground with several stories leading deeper into the stone. Even getting up to it was difficult, with the snow and ice making the steep barren slopes slick. As one might expect the townsfolk and institution workers that resided in such an isolated location were suspisious of outsiders and visitors. The individual Ross was not supposed to be there, had not been expected, and had been taken deep below the surface to wait in a cold cell. They huddled deep in a fur cloak, shivering and watching their breath, thin though it that high up. In their hands was a sealed package of notes and a presentation on a possible location for treasure. Two individuals in purple robes walked down the carved stone steps and to Ross’s cell. They had the hoods up, masking their identities, but they were both rather tall and wide set. “So, your proposal for an expedition was rejected by your college, so you decided to come to our little expedition house on the hill to try again.” The voice was feminine and condescending. “You are in luck scholar, the Foreman decided to call the heads together to listen.” Gloved hands opened the cell and stood Ross up. “Follow us, stray and you will be thrown back in there. If this goes well we might even let you join.” “We don’t have as extensive a library as Cherrygrove, but I’m sure there will be plenty enough.” They strode down a maze of interconnected tunnels, ignoring dozens of side rooms. From all around was the semi-rythmic echoed sound of digging, hammering, talking, and grunts of hard labor. Finally they came to a dark wood door. The carving above it indicated it as a meeting room. “There we are. Step inside and good luck.” She opened the door and shoved Ross in. ~ A week later Ross found themselves riding north with two expedition members from Hightop, and a small caravan entourage of cages, feed, rations, wagon drivers, animal keepers, and other such forgettable things necessary to large undertakings. Suintia, the nation where their site was supposedly located, had a myriad of large ancient beasts and monsters, dangerous creatures that would be useful in a variety of ways to Hightop. To that end, they had sent a Wizard named Devod as their occult consultant and monster wrangler. Devod was of average height, had dirty blonde hair, was the color of a peach, and wore glasses. His team of wranglers and handlers seemed to respect him, but he was reluctant to do any work unrelated to the capturing of monsters. In contrast their navigator Patter Bigprice was doing the work of three. Scouting ahead, cheaking and updating their map with Ross, and helping set up camp and with cooking. He was a short man of Ira ancestry, and sneaky and quick as a hare, but one could not go half a day before catching a glimpse of him. While Ross was technically the head of the expedition, and the one they turned to for final decisions, the other two members each seemed to lead their own duties and groups without guidance. That suited the scholar just fine for the most part. Just as each of the official Hightop members had been given special equipment that they had not, so to had they not been given a responsibility in the daily affairs of travel and exploration. It gave Ross more time to study and double check their work. By the time they had entered what they were sure was former Quibalk they had fourteen days of supplies with which to explore before they would need to turn back. Not much of the Quibalkan’s wooden forts would still remain, but the large burial mound they predicted would have the remains and ancient King’s lost wealth would be. Ross had hoped it would be simple to see given the relative lack of elevation variation but it was not to be. The further North they had ridden the trees around them had grown taller and thicker, until they were passing under almost constant shade and the trunks were wide as Patter laying down. Rumors from locals warned this part of the forest would be haunted, they had not seen any ghosts yet but there were several large animal tracks which had caught Devod’s interest. Lacking firm direction besides vaguely northward, Ross felt no reason to not follow one of the tracks. Devod and Patter chose one they said should be a large hooved quadruped, and began to lead the way. Patter had a crossbow ready as he walked, even as he would check the small navigational tool the Hightoppers called a ‘compass’. At his side, tightly wound, was a length of rope tied to an odd hook made of the strange meteor stone Hightop used for some of its more valued creations. Devod by contrast, was not hunting with a weapon. He had a small whistle and that was it. The rest of them trailed behind almost out of sight until they stopped and set up camp for the night. Though they had said it would be the next day before they found the beast Devod was jumpy at the campfire. Even without the many odd noises they had slowly grown accustomed to in their travel, he would look at the trees around them and start or shudder. Finally Ross asked, “what are you so afraid of?” Devod gave them a hard calculating look, then said, “We are not alone, and I am trying not to let the incorporeal distract me from the possible real threats.” The other’s scowled, but Ross only nodded, “Let us know if something we should worry about happens.” That night it was hard to sleep, but even when Ross finally did they were woken up by the slow, distinct sound of wood creaking and cracking, and it was getting closer. Not close enough to raise an alarm, but Ross didn’t get back to sleep either. The next day they caught up to the beast and had their first taste of what to expect from the creatures of the realm. It was as tall as Ross, and indeed a quadruped. Thick brown fur covered it, and it looked almost like a particularly talented child had attempted to draw an elk. It was oddly lumpy, and thick, its face bulbous and long, and its antlers were cupped and almost hand shaped. It began to attack the minuet it got scent of them, but Devod quickly stepped in. With a gesture of haughty dismissal and an incantation in another language he wove a spell. Purple, glittering trails of smoke circled the charging beast’s eyes and around its limbs. The incantation continued, and the beast’s eyes closed, its charge becoming a stumble as momentum carried it to their feet. Devod broke the incantation for a moment to use his whistle, then stood concentrating. His crew came swiftly and placed it in a cage. Finally the wizard was able to stop, and slumped down with a yawn. “Considering how quickly it defended itself it is probably an herbivore. Gather some local plants to make sure it has some feed.” Another yawn. “Being so amazing is exhausting, I think I’m going to nap.” He went to his wagon, got on, and promptly dosed off. “So…which direction are you thinking now?” “Are those more tracks?” “Yes, looks like another beast like this one leading north.” “Let us follow them then, how close do you suppose it might be?” “We’ll catch up with it by tomorrow.” “Good, with no sign of hill nor ruins that is our best bet.” They went on for a time, but that night while around the campfires Patter heard a rustling of branches nearby. In a flash his crossbow was ready, and his eyes scanned the darkness before freezing. With his eyes narrowed he gestured with his head for Ross to look. There was something in the shadows, clinging to the upper part of one of the trees with one hand. It was hard to make out a shape, but it had two eyes that reflected the fire’s light, staring at them. “Should we wake Devod to capture it?” Ross whispered. “He won’t be able to pull a trick like that again until tomorrow.” “Well set a watch to keep an eye on it.” “Oh I will. Dealt with these plenty of times.” Patter spoke so plainly and with such confidence Ross was inclined to believe him. Shaking their head they went to work on the map before sleep. That night the sound of creaking and breaking wood returned. They stared into the dark, no longer seeing the creature only the trees. They swore they almost saw floating dead people in the gloom, ghosts staring at them. They shuddered, and closed their eyes, telling themself it was just a trick of their eyes. Morning was a welcome sight despite their lack of sleep. The sound from that night had not stopped, and the expedition decided a packing quickly would be smart. While they worked, an eerie moaning howl of a noise, and a bellowing grunt of a scream cut short filled the air, chilling their blood more than the frigid dawn air. Still lacking further leads, they followed the tracks. The animals of the expedition were increasingly nervous, and that energy extended to the human members as well. Ross kept seeing long dead faces in the corner of their vision, darting shadows, and cold spots seemed to follow them. Once again Devod and Patter where keeping ahead of the group, and around midday Patter signaled the expedition to stop and slunk back wide eyed. “It’s the thing from last night, looks like it killed and is eating another beast like we have in the cage. Looks slightly injured but dangerous, Devod is going to work his sleep spell while we minimize out chances of startling it. This thing will make the expedition worth it for sure. We-“ “Patter.” Ross interrupted, an uneasy feeling growing as they considered their situation. “If that thing from last night is there what do you think is making that noise?” Devod’s whistle blew, then they heard him yell. Stumbling back towards the wagons he was motioning them to turn. “We need to move we need to run go!” Behind him were dozens of the ghosts floating about, almost mist like. Then it seemed as if the forest was moving. No, not the whole forest, but a singular giant tree. They were already moving away from it, but Ross tried to get a good look. The spirits seemed to stay near it, and some even swirled around it. It walked on two long thick limbs its bark had an almost fur like quality at parts, it had two arms that grew from the piney trunk, ending in claw like things one might generously describe as hands. They could not make out a face, but it seemed to know where they were and walked slow and steady their way. “We should turn back.” Devod explained.” “The expedition will be a failure.” Patter replied. “My magic isn’t going to stop that thing. We have no direction, we need to cut our losses before lives are part of them.” “We stay.” Ross put in. “Turn right and keep moving. This is my only chance. A creature like that, the ghosts, I think this is the defense the Quibalkans left the tomb.” “But we still don’t know where it is.” “We are explorers not go check on the thing we know the exact location of-ers.” They were already moving deeper. Ross was unsure of what they had heard about them, but despite Devod’s reluctance no further argument was given. They had after all, been desperate and sure enough about this expedition to defect to Hightop, what else that desperation might drive them to do was best left untested. Their pursuer was not particularly fast, but it was relentless. Every stop, rest, and obstacle brought it closer again. Eventually it was dark, the expedition and its animals were all tired and scared. Finally Patter saw an incline devoid of trees. They went round the mound until they found what seemed to be a large stone entrance and Ross ordered a great fire to be built. While the panicked group worked on that and making camp, Ross turned their attention to the stone. It was a door, covered in ornate design and with an inscription on top. Silently they wished they could trace it for future works, bu the sound of the tree thing was getting even closer. They pushed and shoved the door to no effect then scowled at it. “It is just too heavy, or does it need something. If only I could translate this, maybe… hey Devod.” “Yeah boss?” “Come here, see if you can get this door to react to you.” “Better than moving logs I suppose.” The Wizard grumbled, coming to stand next to them. “What do you want me to do?” “Try to push it with me, maybe try to put some magic energy in it.” “That…isn’t how that works. But okay.” They pushed, and the door seemed to shudder, then give way. Inside the mound was cold musty air and shadow. Ross grabbed a torch and the pair went in while Patter prepped outside. It was huge inside, the floor sloped slowly downward so when they entered the main chamber it was cavernous. Gold, jewels, and stranger things glimmered in the dark, and Devod had to close his eyed so many magical things were around them. “Go back out, anyone who isn't building the fire needs to come and gather this.” Ross ordered. Devod made a face but went back out, and the light of Ross’s torch fell upon a rectangle of a sarcophagus. Kneeling next to it, half on top of it in a position of grief, was a single skeleton. They cautiously moved towards it, scanning the stone while watching for movement. Finally with a sigh of relief they saw the name Haorth Dimassa written in the language of old Amar. “This is it. This is the tomb.” They whispered breathlessly.” “It’s here! Are you planning on setting it and the whole forest on fire?” Pattern called from outside. Mind racing, Ross made another tough choice. Around the worked Devod had brought in had bags but looked ready to break. “Grab what you can we need to go. He’s right the fire would cause more trouble than help.” The expedition members nodded and scrambled to grab the riches around them before rushing back out. Ross pocketed a ring that tingled in their hand and was first out. They saw Patter dodging the creature. The entourage was throwing spears at it, but it seemed whatever he had done had earned it’s full attention, or had until Ross had emerged. The tree thing turned to Ross and the ghosts crowded around them. Pattern used the rope and hook he carried to latch on to one of its legs, pulling as it began to step with the other one. It did not move, but seeing his intent others joined him. They pulled as one and the thing tumbled into the fire with a horrifying scream. The fire spread quickly even as it stood, cracking and popping as the smell of burnt fur and smoke filled the air. It tried to reach those exiting the tomb, but began to collapse in on itself until it was still. The ghosts stared a moment, then all rushed into the woods. “Let’s hurry and gather the rest of this up. I don’t like that they didn’t fade away.” Devod suggested. “Right. Good work all. Gather up, pack up, hopefully we have a few hours to give the animals rest before we move again. The sooner we leave these woods the better. ~ Something different than the tree had indeed come for them two days later, those who caught a glimpse of it claimed it was an oddly chimeric looking beast that stank of rotten meat and blood. Luckily once they left that part of the woods it stopped perusing them. They dealt with bandits and weather, but in the end they returned successful and Ross was given their membership.

#my writing #writing #fantasy #adventure #mana anthology #The Tomb of the Fifth Emperor #Tomb of the Fifth Emperor #short story

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