#HIM WITH ARCHIE!!! THE GUILT HANGING OVER HIM OVER HOW HE TREATED THE BOY!!! THE BOY BEING SO OBLIVIOUS ABOUT KRISTOFF'S GUILT AND | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alovesongshewrote · 3 years

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Almost A Thousand Years - Wizard Underground | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot: You’ve known Hisirdoux Casperan for almost a thousand years. You’ve hated him for almost a thousand years. And for almost a thousand years, you’ve been cursed to feel each others pain. But somewhere in that time, things changed. [Hisirdoux Casperan x Mostly Gender Neutral but Probably Female Presenting Based on How Historical Men Treat Them!Reader]

Word Count: 7,579

Warnings: Canonical Character Death!! (and torture)

A/N: buckle up kiddos, it’s about to get angsty. the gif does not match the energy at all, but it’s from the episode so, yeeeeet

Taglist: @furblrwurblr @rainningdoom @fluffydmonkey @blondie0458 @sitherin-mxschief @jinxedleo @lawlesshedgehog @einahpetsyarcip @dolphincommander @sorrels-scribbling @anxious-stitcher @alive-and-afraid @animedweeb333 @douxiesdamsel @saroski05 @justarandomhoman @tales-of-hisirdoux @blixeon @yagirlcheesely

When the green cleared, the sky looked more or less the same. Dark, stars, clouds. It was clear you were home though, both from Douxie saying so and the immediate urge you had to murder him. Well, you couldn’t say you weren’t expecting it, but it still sucked. The drive to end Douxie’s life was always a real mood killer whether or not you were expecting it.

“Welcome back to the twenty-first century!”

“Ah! Sweet pollution! How I missed you!” Steve choked as he inhaled a lungful of said filthy air. Normally, that wouldn’t be a great thing, but you were sort of thankful for it this time. It distracted Douxie from the whimper that left your lips, from the way you sank to the ground, clinging to the railings, struggling against yourself. This was Not Fun.

Steve, however, was still having a wonderful time, “Heh! And reception!! Hot dang! So many messages.”

From the high-pitched chimes that rang out through the air, you could only guess that Steve was looking at his phone. You couldn’t really see at the moment due to the sudden and blinding pain in your stomach. That was new! You weren’t really sure why that was happening, or how Douxie didn’t feel it, but it probably had to do with the Arcane Order and your lack of homicide!

Across the ship, Jim let out a scream, the shard in his chest glowing red and sinking deeper. Fucking lovely. That was two of you in shard related pain. What was next, you losing control and killing not only Douxie but everyone on this damn ship? Another wave of pain rolled through you, which brought an end to your sarcastic thinking. At this rate, that outcome looked less and less insane by the minute. You bit your lip in a silent prayer that nothing else would go wrong. Then Camelot fell out of the sky.

“Oh, shit.”

Douxie’s words shocked you enough for you to open your eyes and look at him.

“D-Douxie, you-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m sorry, hang on tight, love!”

You did as instructed as your wizard flew the ship towards the falling castle, pulling up right beside it at what appeared to be the perfect time.

“Need a lift?”

“Douxie!” you could hear Toby’s voice, but you couldn’t see him. The momentary release granted to you by shock had worn off, and now all you had left was the pain. You shut your eyes and kept them closed, focusing on not passing out, or committing murder, or passing away. Actually, that last one might not have been so bad. At least it would end your suffering and the threat you were to others. That wasn’t going to happen though.

You could hear Archie now, the familiar’s voice was… well, familiar, and it was comforting to you, in an odd way, “But you’re trapped in the past!”

“Not anymore!”

“Took you long enough. We have much to talk about. Like- them?” you didn’t have to see Merlin to know he was talking about you, and in your current state, you were indeed worthy of conversation. You were curled into a ball, shoved against the rails of the ship and trying your damnedest not to cry. You felt like shit, you probably looked like shit, and Merlin didn't even like you in the first place, so yeah, you were something worth mentioning.

“D-don’t worry,” you choked out, “I’m fine. Focus- on Jim.”

Douxie did not want to focus on Jim. He didn’t want to focus on anything except for you at that exact moment. What was happening to you? Why was the love of his life doubled over and in obvious pain when he barely felt a thing? More than anything Douxie wanted to help you. He wanted to make the pain stop, and he wanted to hold you close and make sure you were okay, but Jim, unfortunately, or fortunately depending on the pov, had perfect dramatic timing.

The poor boy let out a groan, the shard glowing red once again, and causing everyone more concern. You knew there was no way in hell he could have heard what you said, and the groan was probably because Aarrrgh, Toby and Blinky had all boarded the ship which made it move a bit, but you liked to think he was on your side.

You could hear Toby scream something that sounded like a question, and you knew that Merlin replied, but there was only one voice that mattered to you. He said your name, sounding scared and anxious. It broke your heart, but you said nothing. You didn’t want him to notice you any more than he already had, because if he did, he would try to help, and that meant getting close to you, and if he did that he’d probably receive a broken neck for his troubles. Nobody wanted that. Least of all you.

“I-I’m getting everyone home safe, as promised.”

Merlin said something else, and you felt another shift as something, or rather, someone, landed on the ship. A small squeak left you, you couldn’t help it. Everything just hurt so bad, and you honestly didn’t know how Douxie wasn’t feeling it. You were thankful for that, of course, you’d never wish for him to be in pain, ever, but this was just so intense! You could barely function, you just had to keep breathing, hoping that the next inhale would somehow end the pain.

Another series of squeaks and gasps escaped you as Douxie maneuvered the ship through a field of castle-shaped debris. In any other situation, you’d have complimented him, but at that moment, you were trying to avoid causing anyone any bodily harm. It was difficult while you were flying, but as soon as you landed, things got wayyyy harder.

Douxie approached you cautiously, not wanting to hurt you and not wanting to trigger anything that might make you hurt him. The rest of the squad had jumped off the ship, so for it was just you and your wizard. For all intents and purposes, you were alone with the person you’d been sent to kill. There was nothing stopping you. His hands were raised in surrender for god’s sake. Why was he making this so difficult?

“Douxie, you need to go.”

“I- no, I’m not leaving you, we have to go, we have to get somewhere safe-”

“No, you need to- just get off the ship, I’ll join you in a second.”

That was a total lie, of course, but he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t seem to register it, either. He just looked at you sadly before taking a step back.

“We’ll fix this. I promise you, we’ll fix this. I’m not going to let anything else hurt you.”

You tried to laugh, but the attempt was pathetic, “I know.”

And then he was gone. You could hear Jim screaming somewhere in the night. The sound drowned everything out, submerging you in a sea of guilt. That kid had suffered through so much, and now this. You knew his pain. He didn’t deserve this, and there was nothing you could do to save him.

Douxie was going through the same motions. You were in pain, you didn’t deserve it, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Not yet, anyway. He was bound and determined to help you, to end the nightmare you were living in. And it was indeed, your nightmare. He couldn’t feel a thing, even after centuries of sharing your pain. Even now, he could still feel the ache of your cracked ribs, but there was nothing beyond that. He didn’t know what was happening to you, or why, but he knew it terrified him. If this, whatever it was, took you from him, he didn’t know what he would do. He couldn’t stand to lose you. Not after all of this. Even as he spoke with Merlin, his thoughts never left you. The image of you curled around yourself, face contorted with pain, lips bleeding as you bit them to stay silent, would haunt him for the rest of his days.

You, however, were haunted by something else.

“Nari, come back to us and finish the work you have begun!”

“You misunderstand our grand vision.”

Oh, fuck.

You pulled yourself up, desperately clinging to the rail, pausing every time your vision went white. You weren’t sure yet whether you were going to run away or fight, but the first thing you needed to do was hide. If you chose to run, they couldn’t see you. If they did, they would chase you, capture you, and torture you again. If you chose to fight, you wanted the element of surprise. So, yeah. Hiding was a good plan.

You threw yourself over the edge of the ship. It was not graceful in the slightest, but no one saw, so it worked out well enough. Your plan was going according to plan, even if everything hurt and you longed for the sweet release of death. You let yourself lean on the ship for a second, closing your eyes against the pain. The cold metal stung where it met your skin. It sucked. Everything sucked. This whole Order ordeal sucked. You wanted to go home. But where even was home? Right, it was the black-haired wizard boy with the shitty dye job who you’d loved for years.

A green light flashed on the other side of the ship, and you knew you had to make a choice. Either run, and keep running, the same thing you’d been doing since you escaped your life as a spy, or stay and fight. Run or go back to the start of your story and change the meaning. To fight, not for Gunmar and an eternal night, but to protect the people you loved, the town you lived in, and the punk wizard who owned your heart. Yeah, no. That choice was already made for you. It had been for almost a thousand years.

Without a sound, you dragged yourself around the ship and waited for the right moment. It came faster than you’d expected, but that wasn’t a huge deal. You snuck behind the green Knight, and when he demanded surrender, you struck him with your sword. He stumbled forward for a second, and that was it. The only solid hit you made in that fight. Ah, the element of surprise, everyone’s favourite element.

You ducked as the Knight's sword sliced at your throat. Your movements were delayed by a few seconds, but you couldn’t focus on that right now. You just had to keep going.

Your sword clashed with his, once, twice, a third time, and on that third, you were sent flying back. You scrambled to your feet just in time for another attack, this one accompanied by words. Whether it was a monologue or a taunt you couldn’t tell. Your brain was focused on not dying. You heard him call you a traitor, and a servant before he declared that your soul was his. You didn’t have a smart response for that, so you just kept fighting.

Up, down, side, dodge, sweep the leg, parry, twist left, over and over again. You were almost on autopilot, one hand still clutching your busted ribs, the other doing its best to keep you alive. There was no coherent thought, just adrenaline and movement. Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, select start. Jeep, dodge, ram him with your face, or whatever the hell else kept you alive. There was nothing left but basic instinct and training that you’d never forgotten. This was your fight. And you weren’t actually that bad for someone who was half-dead. At least, you weren’t until the Green Knight knocked the sword from your hand and grabbed you by the throat.

Everything went numb. Your vision was lighter as if a filter covered the world making everything bright and hard to look at. You heard everything and nothing at the same time. It was all… dull. Like you were hearing the battle from somewhere far away. Douxie screamed something that you couldn’t make out, there was a muffled guitar riff, another scream, someone calling you a traitor, and- wait. What in the fresh hell was that? Did someone just fucking roar?

You were dropped, and you rolled out of the way just in time to see a troll you’d never met charge at the Knight. You sat still for a minute, struck dumb by this turn of events. Then you felt yourself freeze, ice creeping into your veins as you realized what was going on. You couldn’t hear Jim screaming anymore. You looked back to the ship. He wasn’t there. That left one, probably unreasonable explanation. The new troll was Jim. Fuck.

Pulling yourself to your knees, you took another look at your friends, gathered by the ship. It looked, for a moment, like Douxie or Claire would run into the fight. You couldn’t let that happen. So, you did the one thing you could think of, the one thing that would keep them out of this. You stabbed yourself in the leg. It wasn’t a big stab, just a little one. Just enough to convince Douxie that you’d lost control and were now out for his blood. It didn’t work as well as you’d hoped. You could see your wizard fall to one knee. His eyes met yours, and for one second, everything was still. He was there, and you were here, and you were both alive, but on opposite sides of this battle. That’s how it had always been. Maybe that’s how it was always supposed to be. You were back at the start again. A scared kid on the wrong side, clinging to what little light you had left. There were tears in your eyes. You don’t know how they got there. Maybe it was the stab wound, but you didn’t really believe that. Taking a deep breath, you shook your head. He saw you. He stood. And then they were gone.

You smiled, for a second, despite the tears streaming down your face. They were safe, for now. They had a chance. Your momentary peace didn’t last long. Holding his sword above him, the Knight took control of Jim, the red light that ran through his veins turned green, leaving the troll on his hands and knees. At the same time, the pain in your stomach subsided, allowing you to stand, finally. You readied your own blade, but before anything could be accomplished, the Knight turned to you. For once, you could hear what he was saying.

“Attack and the beast dies.”

There was no other choice. You couldn’t let anything bad happen to Jim. You lowered your weapon just as Bellroc jumped from the castle and landed in front of you.

“Take them with us,” you flinched back at their voice. That sound only brought back memories that you would rather forget. Fear took you, and you allowed the Green Knight to grab your shoulder and guide you back to the castle. This was not going to be fun.

Speaking of things that weren’t fun, Douxie was having the worst possible time right now. After hiding in an alley, making his way to Hex Tech, and dealing with a less than pleased Zoe (which involved explaining that he had found you, found out exactly why you left, and lost you again,) he was more than a little bit tired, which was fair. To make matters worse, his leg stopped hurting somewhere between the field and the alleyway. You were on the Order’s ship. They had you, and god knows what they could do to you without him knowing. Quite honestly, Douxie was beyond terrified at this point. He wasn’t really sure what he was. In any other circumstance, he may have been paralyzed by pure fear and anxiety, but someone had to keep Claire from murdering Merlin, so paralysis was a no go. He was sure he’d have time for a nice mental breakdown later, after you were safe. For now, he would focus on keeping the peace, making sure nothing got broken, and forming a plan to get you and Jim home.

You were playing the same game with a different set of pieces. You stayed silent and obedient, making yourself as small as possible to avoid taking up space and pissing off your captors. No matter how panicked you were, you maintained an aura of calm for both your sake and Jim’s. You couldn’t let your emotions slip. Not here, not now. Not that any of your efforts were doing much good. You still flinched with every quick movement, bit your lip whenever someone got too loud. This was not a good situation, and you were straight-up not having a good time. It only got worse with the resurrection of Morgana. It was all too loud, too bright, too- too familiar. This was too close to what happened the last time you were here, and you were terrified.

Your hands were cold. You tried to focus on that, but for the life of you, you couldn't stop thinking about every bad thing that happened to you within these walls. Someone was yelling, someone else screaming, and you couldn’t tell whether it was real, or if it was a memory. You didn’t even care that the Green Knight was the old king. You just wanted to leave, but for now, against all odds, you had to stay calm. It was not working. At all. Especially when the room turned on you.

“And as for you, treasonous witch,” y’know, that wasn’t a very original take coming from a primordial ice god. You were honestly a little disappointed. In terms of torture, Skrael had always been a bit more creative. Perhaps, subconsciously, you’d expected that to carry over. It didn’t. In any other situation, you would’ve told him to get some new material, but Bellroc swiftly prevented that by throwing you into the center of the room. You hit the ground hard. Hard enough to blur your vision and clear your mind, but there was no time to process the pain.

“You have failed us,” the flaming demigod’s voice darted from high tones to low ones, sending a chill down your spine. If Bellroc was angry enough to lose control of their voice, you were beyond screwed.

Both demigods drew nearer to you, looming over your damaged figure, “You will pay for this.”

You winced, preparing for the burn of ice or fire on your skin, but no impact came. Instead, you felt a harsh tug on your hair as Bellroc forced you to face them. Both demigods looked way too calm, though you could feel their anger, a flaming riot beneath their skin despite their icy exteriors. Their rage alone was almost enough to hurt, but what came next was worse.

“You are much too fond of that wizard apprentice… we will make sure he suffers for all of your mistakes.”

You felt yourself shaking as Skrael rasped out the threat, but you didn’t have much more time to react before you were thrown into a wall. That was where their fun began.

Douxie was having a significantly better time than you, but that didn’t mean he was enjoying himself. Over the sounds of Blinky cursing autocorrect, Merlin and Claire were having a battle of ideologies right in front of my metaphorical salad. The audacity. This, of course, was not easy on your wizard. His friend wanted to find a way to save her boyfriend. His mentor wanted to move forward and run away. Douxie also wanted to save Jim and you, but Merlin made a good argument about the fate of the universe and how if they didn’t leave now everyone would die. That argument, however, was not enough to erase the memory of your face from his mind. He still saw that image, you, distorted with pain and struggle every time he closed his eyes. The fighting only made things worse; especially when Merlin decided to put that face on screens around the room, side by side with Jim’s new troll form. I don’t know why he thought that was a good idea, but it was Not helping Douxie.

“James Lake and (Y/N) (L/N) are corrupted, gone! They cannot be brought back!”

“Or you’re just too stubborn to try!”

“Please, you both have solid points!” he could hear the stress and fear in his own voice. Good. Maybe it would make the universe feel bad for him and it would just… throw you through a window at him or something. He didn’t know or care at that point. He was too tired for this and too awake for it at the same time. His eyes hurt. His jaw hurt. Everything hurt except his leg which was just another reminder of how much he missed you. God, he was having an awful day, and it was going to get worse.

“I will not jeopardize the mortal plane for one troll and one wayward witch!”

“It’s what they’d do for us!”

“And look where that got them!” This outburst from his former Master frustrated Douxie enough to make him slam his head into the nearest flat surface and keep it there.

“What!?” Claire exclaimed, the screens around the room went black, your face and Jim’s hidden from view. It would’ve been a relief if Douxie had looked up to see it. “Come on, back me up here. Anybody? Archie? Douxie?”

He heard the question in her voice. Will you stand up for your significant other, Casperan? Or will you fail them again? He let out a strangled groan to answer the question.

Archie’s answer was more dignified, “Don’t look at me, cats don’t have the right to vote. Neither do dragons. Yet.”

The familiar’s body glowed gold for a minute as he changed forms. It was only a second of shining light, but it was enough to give Douxie an idea.

“Wait a tick. I know a way we can rescue Jim and (Y/N) without risking the world!”

“Is that so?”

“How?”

“If it works, it will be quite the little magic trick.”

And it would indeed be quite the little magic trick. Risking life and limb to save you and Jim would be one hell of a feat, but if there was anyone who could pull it off, it was this specific team. At least, that’s what Douxie told himself. He had to. He had to pretend there was hope and focus on the plan. If he didn’t, his thoughts drifted to you, to what the Order could be doing to you, and that persistent question in his mind, the one that asked if you were alive at all. You had to be. You had to. There wasn’t another option, though Douxie found, as he boarded the small ship, that fear was building in his chest. A sense of dread surrounding what exactly they would find, lying still on the floor of the Order’s base.

Douxie was shaken from the hell in his head when Merlin spoke, something about being concerned with the plan and heading into a lion’s den. Your wizard was growing tired of this.

“You gave me a staff because you trusted me, right? So, trust me.”

“Very well. I stand by your decision… wizard.”

The comment was shrugged off by its intended audience, “Everyone knows what they need to do. If we pull this off, we’ll get our friends back.”

In his head, Douxie begged whatever godly forces were out there (that were Not Arcane Order aligned) that they would get their friends back in once piece, safe and sound; though as the lights of the Order’s ship shone in his face, blinding him, he knew that wouldn’t be the case. Oh well.

“Arcane Order!” the ship shifted to face him, a sign that someone was listening, “We’re here to barter!”

The skull moved down through the air, clicking and groaning as it’s jaw dropped to form an entrance, or at least something close to one. Douxie cast a glance back to his comrades, “And that means, ‘Come in.’”

“Wait, we’re flying into the bitey devil castle?” Steve asked incredulously, pointing at said bitey devil castle. Douxie nodded and flew them into the bitey devil castle. Bitey devil castle. I want one.

Steve, however, would not agree with that sentiment. Fear crossed over the teen’s face as their ship drew nearer to the larger craft. He shook so much while exiting the boat that he just fell over. Douxie, Merlin and Not-Nari failed to notice or maybe failed to care. Either way, Steve had an opinion on all of this. He did not like it, “Uh, this is supes dumb. Like, even I know it’s dumb and we’re still gonna go inside?”

If you had been in your right mind and entering the skull with them, you would have agreed, 100%. Unfortunately, you were not that. Instead, you were deeper inside the horror-show palace, writhing with pain and unable to think clearly. That sucked for you, but honestly, you were starting to get used to it.

Douxie, however, was not used to nor prepared for the sudden pain that hit him like a wall of bricks as soon as he entered the Order’s den. It started off intense, matching the pain you felt exactly, but it faded fast until it was a dull throb in the back of his mind. They’d hurt you. They’d hurt and maybe killed you because you didn’t kill him fast enough. That thought, that fact was going to haunt him for the rest of his days. He could already feel his breath coming faster, his chest rising and falling rapidly and leading him to disaster if he didn’t control it. To avoid having a panic attack, your wizard took in his surroundings.

The lair was, as many good evil lairs are, made of stone and lit light blue with moonlight. It was quiet, empty, so much so that Douxie had to mention the overwhelming silence just to hear something. Merlin did not respond. At least, not to him.

“Good evening, Skrael.”

The ice demigod appeared in a twister of ice and sleet. If he was anything other than an ice demigod, it would have been very uncomfortable, but alas, Skrael’s gotta Skrael, and that included monologuing in his chilling and creepy voice, “Surrendering already? I was hoping for a little more cat and mouse.”

Douxie was suddenly very uncomfortable knowing that this was the company you were trapped with during your ten-year absence. That this was all you’d heard for a decade. Douxie wondered, for a moment, against his will, what exactly they’d said to you in the past ten years. What horrors had you heard?

The wondering only got worse when Bellroc decided to jump in with a threat of their own. It was a classic, “You will be rewarded with a quick and painful death,” but Bellroc’s intimidating and ever-changing voice added a new level to the threat, something that most other villains lack. The Green Knight didn’t even make a threat, he just growled like a basic bitch.

Merlin didn’t care though. Basic bitches or otherwise, he got straight to business, “A fight here will end poorly for all of us. We seek a truce,” the old wizard turned to his apprentice and nodded. It was time for someone who did care about basic bitches.

“Good evening, doers of evil and ancient terrors. We have a proposal: a trade. One of yours for one of ours,” Douxie moved forwards and back again, his lanky-ass limbs swishing through the air, trying to illustrate his point. It was super effective.

“Our missing third in exchange for your troll mongrel?”

“You would give up your only advantage? What does this gain you?” both Bellroc and Skrael sounded confused, the perfect conditions for a lengthy explanation that would hopefully buy Claire all the time she needed to get Jim and you out safely.

Douxie took a short breath, “Yes, well, an excellent question, one that requires a long, thoughtful, time-consuming answer. Come on, Claire.”

Somewhere above your friends, your pain began to subside. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for you to stand and make your way over to Jim. You knew that it wasn’t really your boy, and you knew that he wouldn’t respond, but you made an attempt to speak with him anyway. You owed him that much.

“Hey there, kid.”

He grunted and moved away from you, retreating into the darkness, “Woah, woah, woah, easy buddy, just- try and stay in one spot for me-” your voice caught in your throat as another wave of agony rolled through you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say the face of your old friend almost looked concerned.

You brought yourself back up, and a little gasp escaped you as the pain subsided. You were okay for the moment, but you didn’t know how long that would last. It was time to talk as fast as you could.

“Jim, honey, I need you to listen to me. I know how hard this is. I know what it’s like, trust me. But we- we have to fight this. You have a life to live, kiddo. You need to get back to Claire, to Toby and the rest of them, and I-” you cut yourself off before you could say you needed to get home, to get to Douxie. As much as you loved Jim, he was under the Order’s control. They’d already threatened your wizard’s life, you didn’t need them knowing exactly how much he meant to you. However, magic be damned, you had to get through to the boy inside this monstrous shell, “I know it’s hard, Jim, but I’m fighting this with you. Neither of us are alone.”

He growled at you but didn’t respond outside of that. It was time to be persistent.

“I know. But I need you to come back. I need-” once again, you couldn’t say what you were thinking. You couldn’t tell him that you needed proof, something to believe in that could maybe restore the last of your faith. You needed to know that there was hope, that you could come back from this. Jim Lake was one of the bravest and strongest kids you knew. He’d been through so much, and in comparison to your age, he was just a baby. If anyone could fight this, it would be him, and if he couldn’t, you weren’t sure if you could. You drew a shaky breath before you continued, “I need you to come back, for Claire, Toby, your mom, for yourself. You deserve better than this.”

He growled again, burrowing deeper into his hiding place. You bit your lip, thinking of what to say next, but you were interrupted. Someone was coming. Now you needed to hide.

It wasn’t a member of the Order as you’d suspected. Instead, Claire portaled into the room. You had no idea how she got in here, but seeing her was better than seeing the alternative. You stayed hidden while she spoke to Jim, almost feeling like you were intruding. At least he actually talked to her. You watched, hidden in shadows while she tried to coax him into leaving with her. You stayed silent, which became a little more difficult when a sharp pain shot up your side. You bit your lip to avoid crying out, but nothing could prevent the gasp that escaped you when you realized exactly where that pain had come from. If it wasn’t yours, then that meant it was Douxie’s. Douxie was somewhere in the castle.

That thought drove a deep, unyielding fear straight into your heart. You had to get to him, to protect him from the Order, curses and shards be damned. You jumped from your hiding place, causing the briefest of distractions to Claire, Jim, and Morgana, who had joined the fray while you weren’t watching. You paid them no mind, though. Claire could portal out of here, Morgana could more than take care of herself, and Jim was Bellroc and Skrael’s new favourite weapon. They would be okay. But you? If the sudden sharp pain in your back meant anything, you had somewhere else to be.

The first thing you saw was Jim, clinging to the ceiling above your wizard, ready to pounce. You would have attacked him if your vision hadn’t gone green. At first, you thought it was Merlin, trying in vain to protect Douxie, but then you realized exactly what was happening to you. And that was much worse.

Here, in close quarters with both the Green Knight and Douxie, the drive to kill your love had increased exponentially. Your mind clouded with bloodlust, your hands seized your sword. Before your eyes, you saw vivid flashes of green and red. It didn’t take you long to realize that the red was his blood. Or, it was supposed to be. At any other time, these visions would have destroyed you, but at the moment they only added fuel to a raging fire; one that had gone out long ago but somehow burned anew in your chest. For a moment, there was nothing but hate and rage towards the person you loved the most in this world. For a moment, you feed yourself.

And it only got worse from there. You leapt clear across the room, grabbing Douxie and putting your blade to his throat. At the same time, Jim jumped down from the corner of the roof he’d been hiding in and collected Archie and Merlin, holding them at bay. Out of all the things you’d been through, you decided that this was probably the worst. You were so close, so close to killing him. To ending his life, wiping his existence from this earth. You could see the horror on Archie’s face, and on Merlin’s, for that matter. You couldn’t see Douxie, but you could feel what he felt. Betrayal, heartbreak, and fear. So much fear. He was afraid of you.

If you went through with this, no one would ever forgive you, and you couldn’t blame them, but their scorn would be nothing compared to what you’d do to yourself.

You were vaguely aware of your surroundings. Of Clarie and Steve getting themselves frozen, and of the ultimatum offered to Merlin.

“We propose new terms,” Bellroc said, their voice much calmer now that they were in control.

“Give us Nari, or he dies,” Skrael pointed towards you. You could hear Archie yowling, Merlin yelling something and Douxie apologizing. In any other situation, you would wonder what he was apologizing for. Was it for trusting you? For what, in his opinion, must've been failing his mentor and Master? You had so many questions, but the answers didn’t matter. You weren’t in any other situation. You were there, in the Order’s castle faced with an ultimatum of your own. Kill Douxie, the love of your life and the person you trusted more than anything, or fight to save him. The answer to that question was clear. You closed your eyes.

The visions didn’t stop. You tried to stop everything your body was doing, to drop your sword and free him, but you couldn’t seem to let go. You bit your lip, tearing your skin with the effort, tears already coming to your eyes.

That’s when it started to hurt.

Excruciating, agonizing white-hot pain spread across your body from deep inside your core. You’d been hurt before, hell, you’d been tortured not much earlier, but this was beyond anything you had ever suffered through. You dug your nails into Douxie’s shoulder, whimpering, slightly. Your hand was clenched around the hilt of your blade, knuckles white, hands shaking. It was all you could do to keep from screaming. Your entire body felt like it was burning and freezing all at once. The smell of blood and acid hung in the air. The taste of metal stung your mouth. Your muscles seized and relaxed in waves. Tears collected in the corners of your eyes as your poor body battled against itself. You strained against yourself, whispering apologies into the back of Douxie’s hoodie. Your words, however, twisted into a mixed groan and scream. Your mind went blank, and for a moment, you were nothing.

The world was a void. A painful, painful void. You couldn’t focus on anything. You ignored Merlin, his fight for Douxie’s life and his escape from Jim. You paid no mind to the blasts of green magic and Bellroc’s frustrated screaming. You couldn’t give any of it a second thought. Instead, you kept going, locked in a battle of your own. You had to keep breathing through the pain, to take back control. And Douxie noticed.

“(Y/N),” his voice was low, and maybe a little broken, “(Y/N), I know you’re in there. You don’t want to do this, you won’t- you can fight this. You have to fight this. Please, come back to me.”

A gasp escaped you as the pain heightened, reaching a brand new peak. You were 90% sure you were about to die. You dropped your sword, and stumbled back, falling away from your wizard.

For a second, there was nothing. Then you opened your eyes.

And you felt everything.

For that second, for that one moment, you felt the world sink into place. The pain was gone, and you didn’t want to kill any of your loved ones, and you were okay. All you saw were hazel eyes. It was all you needed to see.

But it was just a moment. It didn’t last. You felt a tug somewhere in you, within your magic, and you turned just in time to watch Merlin get stabbed.

You’d never been close to the old wizard. It was just how things turned out. You were a spy and traitor and he was, well, Merlin. There weren’t too many opportunities for bonding between you. But you had to admit to yourself, you did care for the old fool. He’d taken you on as an apprentice all those years ago, and even if you didn’t count it as a ‘real’ apprenticeship, it was. He taught you about a side of magic you’d never known before, and for that, you had to be thankful. And Douxie. Oh, god, Douxie. You knew how much the old wizard meant to him. Merlin was his teacher, his mentor, the man who’d saved his life all those years ago and, in a sense, saved yours. Almost a thousand years ago, Merlin had bonded you to that boy and given you the best thing in your life. The two of you had your differences, but you would be forever in his debt.

Which is why you screamed as the blade tore through him. You found yourself reaching out as he was thrown back to the earth, as if you could do anything to stop it. You felt yourself go numb. Douxie had a slightly more emotional reaction.

You braced yourself against a storm of blue magic, radiating from your wizard. You stood, still as stone, while Jim, the Order, the Knight and Morgana (who’d joined the party at the most dramatic time possible) were blown back. As soon as they were out of commission, you grabbed Archie, scooping the familiar into your arms. In any other situation, the cat would have been fine with this, but at that moment, he struggled. Archie frantically tried to escape your hold, motivated by an intense drive to get to Douxie’s side, to support him in whatever way he could. You felt the same way.

You took a step towards your wizard, but before you could get to him, he turned. His eyes were glowing. Blue. He yelled for you to run, to get away from there, but you were frozen in place by a force you couldn’t name. The difference in his magic, in his soul, could not go unnoticed. He was stronger, somehow, and it stopped you. The light behind his eyes sent a shock through your system. Douxie was never one to use offensive spells on you outside of a full-on fight, but he was out of time and out of options. He threw you and Archie towards the others, calling out another “Get out of here!” before breaking a window and flying out of it. You didn’t even have time to process that. You just did as you were told, jumping through a shadow portal without a second thought.

Earth was colder than you remembered it.

But then again, maybe that was just a side-effect of travelling by shadow portal.

The most likely option, though, was that it had something to do with the scene before you.

Merlin was on the ground. He looked smaller, weaker than you’d ever seen him before. That thought on its own was horrifying. Merlin was the definitive master wizard. He was the strongest of your kind, your leader, in a sense. He was everything a good wizard was supposed to be. And you could feel him dying.

You weren’t the only one.

“-Hold still. I can fix this, I-I-I can fix this-”

I can fix this.

You’d heard that one before.

You’d heard that one a lot, actually. If Douxie had a catchphrase outside of kid-friendly swears, it would probably be “I can fix this.”

He was always so determined to keep everyone safe and to prove himself. Every mess he found himself in, he’d insist that he could fix it. He could fix time. He could fix your broken heart. He could fix the world one day if he wanted to.

But you weren’t sure he could actually fix this.

You took a small step forward, releasing Archie from your hold. Douxie said nothing, at least not to you. He kept repeating those words, over and over again. You could hear him start to lose hope.

“Douxie-”

“(Y/N), help me, please. You have to help me save him- we can fix this. I can-”

“Stop, Hisirdoux,” Merlin’s voice brought your attention back to him, “No one can. Do not blame yourself.”

You took a few more steps forward before kneeling at Merlin’s other side. The part of you that was trained in medicine, a part of you that you were almost surprised to still possess after today, took in Merlin’s injuries. You hated to admit it, but he was right. There was no hope here. Dread settled in your stomach as you realized these wounds, and therefore this death, were, in some way, your fault.

“I’m sorry. I should have listened to-” you stole a quick glance at Douxie. He was doing as well as one might expect.

“No, no. I’m sorry,” the old wizard winced and you put a hand on his shoulder, using what little power you had left to ease his pain. It would not save him, but it might make passing a little more peaceful. He nodded at you, the most approval you’d ever received from the old man, before he continued, “I spent a lifetime serving the wrong master, trying to save this world.”

“You can’t! You’re Merlin, the greatest wizard of all time!” Douxie collapsed onto Merlin, and you could tell from the small tremors that ran through him that he was crying. The old wizard put a hand on his back, trying to comfort him. You felt tears spring to your own eyes. You could feel his pain. You’d known it yourself, centuries ago. Merlin offered a hand to you. You took it.

“Merlin- master, I’m so sorry,” you were only whispering, but you know he heard. They both did.

“I saw a glimmer of greatness, of what you could become,” he moved his hand to Douxie’s face, “And the greatest thing I ever accomplished was saving you,” he brought the hand holding yours to hold Douxie’s. You felt your wizard take a shaky breath.

“I’ll try and make you proud.”

“You already have… son.”

And he was gone. Merlin was… gone.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until then.

“No, no, no, you can’t go!” you pulled back as your wizard cried out, your hands covering your mouth, catching your tears as he pulled his mentor closer to him. His voice lowered to a whisper, “No, please. I’m not ready.”

And then Merlin was ash, dust in the wind, a pattern dispersed.

“Douxie, I’m so sorry,” Claire said as she, Steve and Archie crossed the clearing you’d landed in. Claire went to Douxie’s side, Steve went to yours. It wasn’t much, but it was some comfort in this uncertain world.

“I-I can’t believe he’s gone,” Archie nudged a little closer to Douxie as he spoke.

And he was right. With a final gust of wind, Merlin left you, leaving behind a thick, leather-bound book. His grimoire. Your last hope.

“What is that?” Steve asked as Douxie picked up the book, clutching it to his chest.

“It’s all we have left to guide us,” he stood, “Other than that… we’re on our own.”

He was right. You were more alone than you realized. More than you had been for the last few hundred years.

#hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux imagine #almost a thousand years #aaty #angst #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #toa douxie #toa hisirdoux

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skull001 · 5 years

Text

Friday... It was like 7:30 PM and thought I could take a quick 10 minute nap but was so exhausted from work that next thing I knew was waking up at 3:00 AM. And since there is not much to do to pass time, I decided to do something about it: write.

One of the things I always liked about the Sonic franchise is it's characters. It's not only that they have very appealing designs that combine cute traits with a touch of coolness, but also their well defined personalities. Saddly, I often see people get the wrong idea about them... and it's not just the fans (particularly the fandumb who misinterpretate them into something they are not out of spite) but even the people who are supposed to be professionals who for some reason struggle to get the hang of characters that at first glance seem to have simple personalities.

Today I'm just going to focus on the main cast besides Sonic: Eggman, Tails, Amy and Knuckles.

Dr. Eggman IMO is a character that was always meant to be a cartoony villain who is as goody as he is dangerous. While in Japanese manuals he calls himself a scientific genious of evil, the truth is that Eggman is for the most part, just a very selfish and immature fellow who happens to also be the most brilliant mind in the entire world.

The reason why Eggman is so dangerous is that he pursues his selfish desires such as building an entire amusement park just for himself (and to absolutely share it with no one else) without ever thinking of how he puts everyone, himself included, in great danger by handling forces that he can't expect to control. He is like a very spoiled manchild who is playing with fire in a tinderbox.

While he considers evil, it's also important to note that Eggman is not exactly what I would call sadistic (except in the Archie/IDW comic) since he never is shown to enjoy the suffering of innocents that are caught on his schemes... Eggman simply just doesn't care, but I believe that if he were to be conscious of how his actions affect others, he might at the very least hesitate on going further with his plans because despite being a trouble maker, Eggman is not a monster and in some occassions has shown to still have redeeming aspects that do surface from time to time.

Another interesting aspect about Eggman is that despite him boasting about how great it is to be him and acting all smug, he might actually be a character that feels lonely. In Sonic Unleashed, this point was brought by Chip and think there is validity to it because in the next game, we're introduced to his two assistants Orbot and Cubot, who ever since have kept company to the doc, though as expected, he treats them awfully (but never in a cruel way) just like a bully would to their henchmen. Perhaps Eggman does want to have friends, but because of his selfish and self-centered personality, he drives away anyone who might want to try to come close to him. Heck, the only reason he and Amy remained Fuzzy Puppy buddies in Sonic Boom was that for once, Eggman stopped acting like a spoiled brat and returned the stolen figure after Amy threatened to stop being his friend.

Tails (aka Miles Prower). Tails is a character that has suffered a lot in recent games because of what I mentioned at the start of this wall of text: simple characters who are misunderstood.

This is a character that is meant to be the kid of the group, and as such, he would be the one who experiences doubts and self-confidence issues because while you have strong and experienced characters like Sonic and Knuckles, or the self-made heroine that Amy Rose eventually grew to become, Tails is just the youngest member of the group who for the longest time relied on being by Sonic's side to have the confidence to do things.

Tails has a talent when it comes to tinkering with machines which seems to bring him great joy (I imagine it's the kind like when I build sci-fi model kits), and is always seeking to gain the acknowledgement from his friends by showing to them his latest inventions. At heart, Tails is a gentle child who is the exact opposite of Dr. Eggman because while the doc uses all his talents and resources for self-serving purposes, Tails wants for his inventions to help make life easier for others. However, often his inventions have flaws/bugs that the boy oversees because of his child-like enthusiasm, and this can sometimes cause troubles (like in Sonic Boom's "UT" episode) that causes for Tails to sink into his own doubts.

One thing that I feel is very important to take into consideration is that Tails should never be the kind of character that guilt-trips the audience into feeling sorry for him. When one feels empathy for a character, it's often because they struggle and show very humane and relatable emotions. Tails being confused about what went wrong is IMO a very sincere form of showing his doubts and him trying to correct them is his form of struggle. A trap writers could fall for is to make the other characters act mean to him which is something I feel should be avoided because it cheapens the whole thing.

Amy Rose. With Amy, the thing I liked and always believed is that out of all the characters, she is the one with the most potential... And what annoys me is the way Sonic Team fails to deliver on it by all of the wrong reasons.

I always loved Amy because she is one of the characters that to mee feels the most "real". Amy is a very energetic and bubbly girl with an endless supply of optimism that always makes her see the best out of any situation. She also has quite some flaws too, like being impulsive, quick to jump into conclussions, can be a bit feisty, etc... IMO, this makes Amy feel closer to the normal people and believe that in the Sonic franchise, she serves as a bridge between Sonic's bigger than life adventures and the normal, everyday life. But if there is one thing that this character has that won me over, is her compassion and empathy for others. Sure, every character can show that too because it's a basic humane quality. However, none of them takes it to the length that Amy does because what makes Amy unique is that her compassion and empathy also extends towards the bad guys. You see, Amy is the kind of character that believes that everyone deserves to be happy in life, and because her insight makes her realize the sadness experienced by those who lost their way and deviated into a dark path, she will try to make them realize the inner good that they forgot existed or did not know was there. Where Sonic saves the world, Amy saves bad guys from themselves.

Funny enough, Amy herself is a character that I am very sympathetic for because unlike Tails and Knuckles, who from the very start of their careers had the full support of Sonic Team and always received a preferential treatment, Amy is a character that had to start literally from zero to get where she is now... and even then, sometimes it feels like she is often left behind by the developers who overlook the many things that she as a character can contribute to the main cast, what she herself can accomplish as a hero, what she can add as a playable character... And it's this one-sided form of exclussion that feels so unfair, based on dumbass ideas like "she wasn't part of the Genesis trilogy" that has resulted in so many missed opportunities... From SA2 not continuing her character development by giving the spotlight instead to Knuckles (who didn't even contributed to the plot in any meaningful way and was just there for the sake of pandering to his popularity), to being robbed in Forces from being the leader the IDW comic showed (and which previous games hinted she would one day become) to Mania not having her in the game despite already haven proved to be a great addition in Sonic Advence, giving her spot instead to a couple of literal nobodies. Even the animated mini-series would had also forgotten all about her had it not been for Tyson Hesse, who likes the character and always wanted to feature her and insisted until he got the green light to go ahead with what I feel is the most special episode of the Mania Adventures mini series (and the oerfect Christmas gift for me).If only Christian Whitehead and Takashi Iizuka had been more like Hesse... Cowards. No, I'm not even fucking sorry for calling them that.

Sometimes, as an Amy fan, it's so very hard to have any love for things like the immensely popular "classic trio" (the concept, not the characters involved) because how this has resulted in Amy always getting the short end of the stick. This is a character that IMO should had been right up there along Tails in terms of importance, not being sidelined or excluded over crap "reasons".

And finally, Knuckles.

Oh Knuckles, where do I begin. Despite how sometimes I may sound harsh towards the character, I have to say that I do like Knuckles because as a character, I believe he can be one of the most entertaining and relatable of the franchise, but because Sonic Team are a mixed bag themselves (they create wonderful character designs and give them unique personalities for the most part, but God if they can be clumsy when it comes to handling them) I feel that Knuckles is the opposite of Amy in that he is a character that fell victim of his popularity, where Amy on the other hand is a victim just because she wasn't introduced in a certain trilogy of games.

As a character, Knuckles feels like a mix between Donald Ducks short-tempered personality, and Daffy Duck's jealousy towards the main character. Indeed, Knux can be quite explosive with his temper, especially if it involves unwanted visitors laying their filthy casual paws all over the master emerald, or when facing unexpected obstacles (I know how this feels... I too hate when my work is affected by factors outside my own power. XD) which in animation, were hilariously captured by Tyson.

Knuckles relationship with Sonic on paper is that of a friendly rivalry... Not because Knuckles is this supposedly good, close friend of Sonic, which I still believe he is not (Tails has a reason to be a close friend, Amy has a reason AND had to struggle and insist until she finally got there... Knuckles though, he was never given one, although it's never too late to start working on it), but rather, because Knuckles was never a bad guy... He simply was some echidna with a very honest and naive sense of what is right which Dr. Eggman took advantage of to pit him against Sonic and Tails. Even if Knuckles was thankful to Sonic for helping clear the mess and recover the master emerald, I believe that deep down, Knuckles still resents having not only been tricked by Eggman, but also being beaten by Sonic... and not just in the literal sense of having been KO'd in Kombat, but also in the sense that Sonic did what he was supposed to do: retrieve the master emerald. This IMO is a wound in Knuckles' pride that never truly healed.

And this brings me to what makes Knuckles so sympathetic. Knuckles is the least brilliant mind of the group. He us also stubborn... A literal knucklehead. And yet, Knuckles is aware of this and in more than one occassion has expressed his frustration and regret for how easy he can be taken advantage of... How could someone not love Knuckles and just want to give him a good hug? This is why I was so very moved when the Archie comic had a heartwarming moment where he and Amy have a talk during a journey to retrieve the shards of the master emerald. Ian Flynn did a great job IMO at humanizing Knux by having him open up to Amy and talk about the things that trouble him, from Sonic being a teased, to his doubt to whether he is worthy of being the master emerald's guardian... And how Amy not only reminded how despite his mistakes, he never ever gave up. And when their adventure was over and succeded in their mission, Amy gave Knuckles that hug he deserved and needed so badly to make him feel appreciated.

They are all wonderful characters when they are done right, and why it so frustrates me so very much when they mess up with them because people, like the unintelligent mass of meat that they are, will always jump to the laziest and easiest conclussion, which is why they all have been given negative stigmas that have been so hard to shake off.

I really wish that these characters were made not only justice, but also to be handled by competent people that can understand what makes them themselves, who understand how they are suppose to act like and provide something that actually rewards their fans instead of punishing them (I'm looking at you Sonic Forces!). Funny how it's cartoons like Sonic Boom, the very last Archie comics and the IDW comic that has been delivering the things I always wanted while the games struggle and fail to deliver. This is why the idea of the next game worries me because I really don't have much faith in Sonic Team doing anything that has not been done in the last games: Sonic only, Tails's character being further butchered while Amy and Knuckles are glorified extras. How can I even have the least faith in them when their track record speaks so loud and clear? Only way the next game will give this characters the care they deserve is if the story is writen by either Ian Flynn or Tyson Hesse. They're the only ones that deliver what Pontac, that other guy and Sonic Team themselves failed to do.

#Sonic the Hedgehog #Miles Tails Prower #Amy Rose #Knuckles the Echidna #Dr. Eggman

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serpentqueenz · 5 years

Text

Just Wanna Be Yours | Chapter 3

Veronica x Jughead

Summary: Jughead’s voice is sleepy when he says; “You did. And now we can finally talk about forever without it being some kind of fucked up dream.”

“In these dreams, did we still share chocolate shakes?” she asks him.

“Everyday,” he replies. “Chocolate shakes.”

Before the move to NYC, Jughead and Veronica had a series of barriers. It wasn’t always easy being the Serpent King and the girl from the rich side of town.

Warnings: None. Angst. But not too much.

Author’s Note: Pre-NYC. A flashback if you will. In collaboration with @veronicassadboi

We Queens are now on AO3: Serpentqueenz

and read full fic here: Just Wanna Be Yours: Chapter 3

XXXXX

His eyes squint as he smiles over his laptop that sits on a grease smeared table. “It wouldn’t kill you to smile back, Princess,” Jughead hums as his fingers rest on Veronica’s hip with one hand and his other hand on the chocolate shake she’s just handed him.

Veronica bites her lip out of habit and her eyes dart from the door of Pop’s back to the boy in front of her - another habit she’s been trying to break. No one to hide from anymore, she remind herself. No more hiding, no more hiding , she repeats. Jughead’s fingers on her hips move her closer. “Forty more minutes,” she tells him. Forty more minutes of torture, she thinks. “You didn’t need to come and wait for me,” she says in a hurry, shake spilling over the side of the glass.

“Forty minutes is the difference between me living and dying, Princess,” he says in a sigh, ghosting his fingers over the keyboard.

Veronica rolls her eyes. “You’re so fucking dramatic, Jones,” she says, bending over in front of him, yellow dress separating just enough to remind Jughead of what he’s dying for. “What are you writing about tonight, baby?” she asks quietly, avoiding gazes in their direction. She smears grease a little further in front of him.

Jughead reaches out to tilt Veronica’s head and brushes a kiss on her lips that she almost jerks away from. His eyes show concern when he says; “The love ballad of Jughead and Veronica, sounds romantic, doesn’t it?” he says, giving her a wink.

Veronica smirks as she straightens up. “Romantic? You’re full of it, you know that?”

Jughead shrugs as he grabs her hand, she pulls it out quick just to have him grab it again, placing it to his lips. “This reflex, you always pulling away, it needs to stop soon. We don’t have anything to hide.”

Veronica looks around. There were always eyes everywhere. No more Archie, no more Betty, no more hiding, she thinks. “We’re free, right, baby?” she says, sugary smile so fake on her lips.

Jughead’s eyes darken slightly. “As free as we’ll ever be in Riverdale, baby,” he reminds her. “But as long as we stay here, we’ll always have a level of torture.”

Archie hadn’t even been gone a week. But in her soul, he’d had been gone as long as Jughead had got into her veins. “I’ll see you in forty.”

“Thirty-eight.”

“Thirty-eight,” Veronica repeats with a smile.

Veronica turns around, tightening her apron. “Hey, Princess!” Jughead calls out.

“Hmmm?” she calls back from the counter.

“I love you!” echoes loudly through Pop’s, cutting through the noise.

It stops her in her tracks, she feels a blush creeping up her neck and everyone’s eyes on her.

She looks at Jughead who wears the smuggest smirk and fingers on his keyboard as he waits for her reply that couldn’t come out. Not yet , she thinks. She couldn’t say it or it would run through the veins of their town that they now call a prison.

XXXXX

Time moves so slowly in Riverdale. Veronica’s ever growing frustration with the place was starting to get to her and in turn, Jughead too. He fingers a straw in his matching chocolate shake and rolls his eyes when Veronica takes a scoop of the whip cream off his shake and adds it to her own. “When is this going to stop?” he asks her.

She knows exactly what he’s talking about. The underlying layer of guilt that runs through her now that they’re together. She didn’t know exactly what she was hiding from but small towns bear small minds and the girl who managed to break down the great Hiram Lodge was never meant to end up with the King of Southside. There were unspoken rules that Veronica and Jughead managed to break, one by one. The love that she held for Betty burnt silently when Veronica let Jughead into her being. Southside wasn’t the worst thing in Riverdale when her father existed. Riverdale’s calling to her stopped when Jughead started promising her forever and their forever called them both to a different city; a different life. Whatever good that she had in her faded when the last three years of her and Jughead was based on hushed whispers and lies. So many lies.

Jughead waits on her answer. “It’s just kind of hard to be so open…”

“When we’re so used to being a secret?” he finishes, traces of malice in his tone. Veronica’s eyes darken as she runs her tongue over her teeth and holds back her own roll of her eyes. “You didn’t really think we were going to be like that forever, did you?”

Forever , she thinks, I couldn’t think of forever when everything was so unsure . “You had Betty, Jughead,” she says sternly. “And I had Archie and I didn’t know what was going to happen.”

She takes a frustrated sip of her shake and Jughead already hits the bottom of his own. “I knew what was going to happen, baby.”

“And what was that?”

Jughead smiles down at the table, running his hands over his knuckles as Southside sits proudly on his shoulders. “I knew that I love you, and you love me, I was going to give you the world…”

Veronica hangs on to his words. They were always so pretty, so charming. Whatever he said, she would hang on tightly. “Sometimes I hate you, do you know that?”

Jughead laughs and traces patterns on her arms. “No you don’t,” he says sweetly. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

“I knew that we were going to be together, I don’t let you torture me like this for nothing, Princess,” he replies with his eyes darkening, jaw tensing in front of her.

“You think I torture you?”

“When you don’t let me love you, it’s torture…”

Veronica leans over the table, brushing her lips on his cheek. “I’ve always let you love me and now we’re lost in Riverdale,” she answers, leaving words on his skin.

Jughead smiles into her words, leaving his hands on hers. “Stop letting Riverdale stop you from loving me, Veronica.”

“I won’t,” she promises. “Can you just kiss me?”

“So I stop talking?” he asks, meeting her lips.

She bites at his lip. “You talk too much.”

XXXXX

It’s times like these when they barely speak.

He had a cockiness that couldn’t be touched when she was on his arm. Jughead was the King of Southside but Veronica knew that when she was with him, she just added to the hype. The Whyte Wyrm was kind of her god given right when she now officially one half of the biggest thing on Southside. It was a title she refused but she felt the eyes stinging her skin when she was held up on a metaphorical pedestal that he had made for everyone to notice her. He was a cocky boot slamming against the bar with his elbow on the counter as he batted lashes at Toni and says; “If anyone has anything to say about Veronica and I, they can bring it to me.”

Veronica can almost feel his fingers inside her with his teeth on her neck and his words telling her how much he loves it when she’s in control when she says; “Or they can come and see me, I bite a little harder than the last girlfriend and they don’t want my Louboutins on these snakes.”

Toni raises an eyebrow when she passes Veronica a drink. “Girlfriend, huh?” she teases. “So you’re saying it out loud now…”

Jughead sniggers when he keeps a hand on Veronica’s waist. Veronica has a string of words she wants to say but settles with. “Of course,” she answers.

Jughead’s breath in her ear says; “Wait until I get you home, Princess. I’ll show you how I treat my girlfriend.”

XXXXX

The conversation starts with; “ When we move.. .” and Veronica can tell Jughead is shocked.

“You really want to move?”

“I really want to be everywhere with you, so yes.”

“You never talk about it.”

Egyptian cotton feels out of place in the trailer but the cover was one of the only things she bought with her from The Pembrooke. Jughead’s arm rests across her naked body and she pulls the sheets higher. “We always talk about it.”

“It’s one of those things we agree on but we don’t ever plan.”

She can hear the annoyance lacing Jughead’s words and she kisses his arm as some small piece of comfort. “Well, we can now.”

Jughead shifts on the bed, rolling onto his side to look at Veronica whose hair is a little longer than usual and her lips a little swollen from over-kissing. “Do you really want to go?”

She wants to shout that she’s so far gone. I left years ago , she remembers. “Jughead, I just want to feel normal.”

“I guess we’ve been looking for the right time, huh?”

There was no right time when every time felt wrong. And how do you even tell someone you love that maybe you should take it to the next level when every stupid word out of each other's mouth was something sharp and painful? She wonders. “Our time has finally come, Jug. I’m sick of waiting for something to happen.”

“Why would you want to be with someone like me?” he asks, “When I'm nothing but a fuck up?”

Veronica pauses. Part of her wanting to smack him, he’s everything to her. “You’re not a fuck up.”

“The only thing right that I’ve ever done was find you, Veronica. Do you know that?”

Veronica breathes when he breathes and closes her eyes to steady herself. “The only thing that feels right to me, Jughead, is loving you.”

“We deserve to be happy.”

She thinks on his words, she’s always wondered the same thing. “I think so,” she says gently, tracing patterns on his skin. “Everyone deserves to be happy.”

Jughead sniggers softly. “And we do too, the only thing is that we thought we shouldn’t find happiness in each other.”

“Because we were kids, Jug.”

“ Kids ,” he laughs. “We’ll move out of this shit town and start our own life. You and me, Princess, what do you say?”

Veronica closes her eyes again, smiling to the dark. “I say fuck it, let’s go. New York still calls me. Just like we’ve been saying since we were sixteen.”

“Sixteen,” Jughead says in a sigh. “Almost four years of promises.”

“Four years of pain,” Veronica corrects.

“Nah Princess,” he replies. “The only pain was knowing that there was a chance that you didn’t want to fight for this.”

“Well I did,” she argues.

Jughead’s voice is sleepy when he says; “You did. And now we can finally talk about forever without it being some kind of fucked up dream.”

“In these dreams, did we still share chocolate shakes?” she asks him.

“Everyday,” he replies. “Chocolate shakes.”

“And what else?”

“We share a bed, we share the same lame taste in decor, you wear my shirts around the house, we share the shitty fast food.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“It is… it will be. Sharing the same life. Jughead and Ronnie.”

“Maybe we’ll share kids too,” she says, just as sleepily.

Jughead chuckles. “And those too.”

XXXXX

Shifts at Pop’s were always busy, and even through the loud clanging of plates and extra shifts on top of her usual shifts to try and save money made them not feel so long. Jughead would sit waiting for Veronica every day and when they got home to the trailer, each dollar saved was a dollar closer to New York.

Jughead would scrub coffee stained mugs when no one was looking to help her out. Folding napkins became his unofficial job and she would kiss his cheek every time he would turn up at midnight to help her clean tables. New York was closer and closer by the day.

“I want to get out of here,” she groans.

“New York, New York, baby.”

“Don’t bust into tune, please,” Veronica groans again.

Jughead laughs. “I don’t sing, you know that.”

“Oh,” she agrees, sniggering. “I know.”

She slides a chocolate shake across the counter to Jughead and he catches it without looking. “You’re amazing, Princess,” he hums with his mouth on the straw. “You’re the epitome of perfect.”

Southside screams loudly on his back and torn up knuckles tell her that he had been somewhere she didn’t care to know about. The less she knew, the less it hurt her. “Stop,” she says weakly but a smile on her faces tells Jughead that his pretty words are working.

He chews noisily on fries when he taps on his keyboard. “When do you finish tonight?”

“Another five hours,” she says with a sigh, turning on the coffee machine.

“Five coffees it is.”

“You want one now?”

“Soon,” he answers. “After my shake.”

She notices the splits in his knuckles a little more acutely as she wipes down the counter in front of him and he catches her eyes when she looks up. “Jug…”

“I’m just trying to get money too, Veronica,” he says, tensing his fists. “You do your work and I do mine.”

Veronica avoids further conversation. We’re going to get out, she repeats. We’ll be out soon, we’ll be gone. “Your work can’t carry on when we leave, Jughead,” she whispers. “You know that.”

Jughead closes his eyes and Veronica knows he’s looking for peace. “I do my work now so when we go, I don’t have to. But I have to get some money somehow, baby, you know that.”

Veronica reminds herself of the goal. Of New York. Of nothing more than just the two of them. “Don’t talk about money, Jug,” she tries to reassure but she knows it’s falling on deaf ears. “I told you.”

Jughead’s laugh holds no humour. “And what will I do when I get to New York?”

“Write!” she says instantly, not giving it a second thought. “And your photography that you do with Toni is stunning -”

“What if I can’t make money from that?”

Veronica sighs and rolls her eyes, hands sitting on her hips and Jughead’s smirk tells her that he knows that she’s starting to rise. “Well have you ever tried?”

“No.”

“Have you not been telling me to be brave? That we need to get out of our familiar? Is New York not the chance you’ve been trying to sell to me for the past year?”

Jughead’s eyes drop to the computer and his smile carries on when he starts typing. “God I love you.”

Veronica growls. “Don’t you change the subject on me, Jones.”

“Aggressive,” Jughead teases. “I like it.”

Veronica slams her palm on the counter in front of Jughead and her eyes grow. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. In all seriousness, your writing is fucking amazing and Toni told you herself that your photography is amazing too!”

“You don’t like to be challenged do you, Lodge?”

“Don’t ‘Lodge’ me!”

“Right,” Jughead nods. “Soon-to-be-Jones.”

Veronica stops in her tracks, eyes peering into Jughead’s. Thrown off guard. “Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing.”

“God!” Veronica groans again while stacking cups. “You annoy me so much.”

“Obviously not enough, or you wouldn’t be promising forever with me.”

Veronica nods when she puts shakes on a tray to carry to a table. She starts walking when she calls out; “Jughead?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too,” she announces across Pop’s.

Jughead’s head turns with a smile so big, Veronica feels her face blushing.

No one else in Pop’s turns at all.

They were just another boy and girl in love.

#Jeronica #vughead #jughead x veronica #veronica x jughead #jughead jones #veronica lodge #riverdale #southside serpents #just wanna be yours #robrey writes

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mariequitecontrarie · 7 years

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Meet Me in the Courtyard: Part 2

Part 2 Summary: The courtyard “movie of the month” is Back to the Future, and Ruby decides Gold is a mad scientist like Doc Brown. The Fic: Belle hosts a monthly movie night in Storybrooke, always leaving the seat next to her empty. Gold loathes movies, yet movie night at the library is the one community event even he can’t seem to resist. Rating: T WC: 2400 A/N: Written for @a-monthly-rumbelling June prompt: bad day, drink, cuddling. More fluff and awkward dorks flirting awkwardly. Thanks to @maplesyrupao3 and @magnoliatattoo for reading over this for me, and to @rowofstars for the boost of encouragement.

{On AO3} Part 1 on Tumblr | Part 1 on AO3

“He’s weird,” Ruby announced, patting Belle’s knee under the table.

Belle tore her gaze away from the front door of Granny’s and made a face at her best friend. “‘Weird’ is a weak word with a poor connotation,” she said in the tone she reserved for when the schoolchildren visited the library. “Gold is whimsical. Private.”

“He’s a nutter.” Ruby dragged a handful of fries through a combination of mayonnaise, ketchup, and hot sauce and crammed them in her mouth, then chased the grease cocktail with a long pull of her chocolate milkshake.

“Now you’re just being mean.” She poked Ruby in the shoulder, satisfied when she grunted in pain.

It was Saturday night following the monthly movie in the library courtyard, and Gold had made his excuses two-thirds of the way through a showing of Back to the Future, promising to meet up with her at Granny’s later.

“You call it mean, I call it observant,” Ruby countered. “He’s always tinkering with stuff in his store. This afternoon I saw him playing with some weird thing with dials and wires.”

“Sounds like an amp meter,” Belle guessed. “He would need one to check the electrical safety of antiques.”

“Naturally nerd girl would know what nerd boy was up to.” Ruby smirked. “Anyhoo, it looked suspicious, so I went around to the side of the building and peeked in the workroom to see what else he had cooking. Huge table cloaked with a thick white sheet.”

Belle splayed a hand over her heart and opened her mouth, feigning shock. “He’s in the restoration business.”

Ruby shook her head. “That’s just his cover. I’d betcha anything he’s building a time machine.”

“Out of a Cadillac?” Belle drizzled honey into her mug of Earl Grey and grinned at the mental image of Gold putting pedal-to-the-metal in the luxe sedan. “And people accuse me of having an overactive imagination.”

Ruby arched a raven eyebrow, causing Belle to roll her eyes.

“For the last time, Gold is not dabbling in time travel.”

“No, you’re right. He’s Gold. He’d never do anything so altruistic.” Ruby shoved another fistful of fries in her mouth. “He’s building a bomb,” she said with her mouth full.

“You’re ridiculous.” Belle sipped her tea.

“Then why did he leave in the middle of the movie?”

Belle frowned into her drink, wrapping her fingers around the warm mug for comfort. She didn’t have the answer, but she wasn’t about to admit it. “He had to go.”

“On a Saturday night in the middle of an eighties classic?” Ruby crossed her arms. “More like he didn’t want to hang out here with us. Not enough intellectual stimulation for such a genius.” The sarcasm dripped from her voice like the ketchup from her burger.

“Says the woman who’s dating the resident psychiatrist.” Belle sighed. Ruby was one of her best friends, but sometimes it seemed like their relationship was less of a friendship and more of a rivalry.

Ruby batted her eyelashes at Archie. “That big brain is inside a hot bod.”

“Maybe he left because of all the nasty looks you were sending his way!” Belle accused. Every time Emmett “Doc” Brown had appeared onscreen, Ruby looked between the kind but wild-eyed scientist and Gold, sending Belle meaningful glances that distracted her throughout the film. Gold had kept his gaze steadily on the movie, but he had to have noticed. Ruby was less than subtle.

“Where’s your wee sweetheart, Belle?” Merida asked, a teasing glint in her pale blue eyes. “Did he get distracted and forget how to get to the diner?”

“He is rather absentminded,” Mary Margaret added, wrenching her gaze away from her fiancé David’s lips long enough to join the conversation. “And he locks himself in his shop and acts annoyed whenever anyone comes in looking for something.”

Ruby hooted. “You gotta admit, he has those same buggy brown eyes as the Doc…”

Belle clenched her hands tighter, until the tips of her nails left dents in her palms. “His eyes are not buggy!” she cried, almost upsetting her untouched wedge of blueberry pie. Gold had soulful, amber eyes, so intense that she sometimes had to look away. And when he was grew passionate, they darkened into a silken onyx…

“They kinda are,” Ruby insisted, snapping her out of her fantasy.

Furious, Belle jerked to her feet. She wished Ariel was there to come to her defense, but she was at home nursing a chest cold. Besides, if she had been at the table, Jefferson would have been there, too, and she would be deflecting more than one barb from that sardonic ass.

Honestly, sometimes her friends were insufferable.

“Ok, ok, we’ll stop.” Ruby grabbed her arm. “Sit down, Belles.”

Belle slumped back in the booth in defeat. She and Gold weren’t even dating, really. They had watched part of two movies together, drank a cup of tea at the same table, and shared one pizza lunch at Tony’s Italian Eatery. He’d been pleasant, even charming, but she sensed he was keeping his distance. Perhaps other people and public places made him nervous. And with the way present company treated him, was it any wonder?

“Belles, we’re just trying to protect you from making a mistake.” Ruby’s eyes were a troubling mixture of guilt and amusement.

“Ruby, honey.” Archie coughed and pushed his glasses up on his nose. He nudged the basket of fries toward her. “Food’s getting cold.”

Merida opened her mouth again, and Mulan shoveled an enormous bite of chocolate cream pie into her girlfriend’s mouth with a smirk. “Chew slowly, sweetie.”

David threw her a pitying frown before tucking his arm around Mary Margaret once more and steering her into a conversation about the merits of animal adoption.

Belle toyed with the fluted edge of her piecrust and took another sip of her lukewarm tea, doubts crowding out her enjoyment of their movie after-party. The voices of her friends buzzed around her head like flies—annoying but indiscernible. Maybe she’d been too forward with Gold and this was his way of politely disengaging—by blowing her off at Granny’s with the entire town watching.

“Son of a bitch, here he comes.” Ruby whistled low in her throat, and nodded toward the door.

Belle smiled, feeling a rush of relief. Gold was winding his way through the tables, an ancient flip phone pressed to his ear.

“Not so tech savvy, now, is he?” Belle couldn’t resist sending Ruby a triumphant glare.

“On the line with his plutonium dealer,” Ruby muttered. “No smart phones for him. Big Brother could track every move he makes. Gold’s a dork, not a fool.”

“Down, girl.” Belle clenched her teeth and brushed pastry crumbs off her fingers.

Everyone was staring at him. Everyone. Gold could feel the weight of their eyes as he maneuvered through the crowded restaurant. It seemed to take centuries to get to Belle, like he was sinking into quicksand instead of walking. He ended his fake conversation and pocketed the phone, nearly dropping it as he approached Belle’s booth. She was smiling in his direction, but the telltale scrape of her teeth against her lower lip betrayed her nervousness. Was she happy to see him, or not?

The rest of her crew fell silent, gawking at him like he was sprouting a third eyeball. Gold leaned heavily on his cane, his ankle throbbing. It had been a bad day at the shop, his latest project causing backed up orders and customer complaints, Miss Lucas had stared at him through most of the movie like he was some sort of science experiment, and now he was standing at a full booth in a packed diner with two-hundred people watching his every move. He should have chucked it all and gone to bed with a bottle of Glenlivet.

“Gold, hey.” Belle cut through the thick silence, scooting over on the banquette then patting the square of red vinyl beside her.

Miss Lucas and Miss Blanchard stifled giggles, while Miss DunBroch and Miss Fa stared into their drinks. Nolan nodded in greeting, but he wore the wary expression of a man outnumbered.

“Aren’t you going to sit with us?” Belle asked.

To hell with this. “I’ve suddenly recalled I need to be somewhere,” he announced.

“Now?” Belle’s voice was a high, mousy squeak.

“Yes, right away.” He looked at his fingernails. “I just stopped by to tell you.”

“Couldn’t you have called?” Miss Lucas looked pointedly at the breast pocket in which he had placed his phone.

Ignoring her unsavory companions, he swept Belle a small, ironic bow. “Good evening.”

Blood pounded in his ears, his cane eating up the tile as he hurried toward the exit. Behind him, he heard Belle say “Thanks a lot,” but he wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or to her friends. It didn’t matter—his breath was coming sharp and fast and the walls were closing in; he couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Outside, he took a deep lungful of air, but it was as thick as pea soup, not at all refreshing. Thunderclouds rumbled overhead as he hobbled down the sidewalk toward the shop, plump raindrops beginning to splatter against the sidewalk. Feeling miserable, he locked the door just as the heavens cracked open and the deluge began.

Not five minutes later, he heard a muffled pounding at the side door, and he threw it wide to admit a drenched Belle.

“Running away again?” She dripped onto the polished hardwood, a puddle forming between trembling legs. One of her sky-high heels had broken off and she stood uncertainly inside the doorway, holding the ruined navy pumps between her fingers.

“I do not run away Miss French. I walk.” He eyed her broken shoes distrustfully.

“How’s that working out for you?” Like a wet puppy, she shook droplets of water off her head, her rose petal scent intensified by her damp skin and soaked curls.

“Not so great.” He flinched. “Are you going to hit me like you did during Hunchback?”

Rainwater rolled down her face, her pained face mimicking his own. “I did not hit you.”

“Aye, you did.”

“It was a love tap.”

“Ah.” He blushed, his embarrassed gaze drifting away from her face and landing on her chest. Her cream silk blouse was soaked through, and the way the material molded to her lithe body like a second skin left little to his imagination. And had he ever imagined. The chattering of her teeth brought him out of his stupor. He swallowed and groped at the little cot for a blanket, wrapping it around her upper body. “You’re shivering.”

Belle shrugged, her eyes searching his for answers. “Tonight…was the movie so bad?”

“Back to the Future? Not at all, actually,” he admitted. “Much more entertaining than the first time I watched it with my ex-wife. Of course, she spent the entire film talking about banging Michael J. Fox.” His self-deprecating laughter echoed off the floorboards.

“Then why?” She lifted her arm then let it fall in favor of hugging herself. It was a protective gesture, and it made him ashamed of stomping off like an angry toddler.

“Your friends are rather hostile.” He crossed his own arms. “I could tell what was being said about me wasn’t favorable. No surprise there.”

Belle cocked her head. “Why do you always assume you’re the one at fault?”

“Force of habit?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “If you walk through life expecting to be rejected, it’s far easier to bear when the inevitable comes.” Another brittle laugh. “It’s all right, Belle. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“But I do.” The corners of her mouth lifted in a sad smile. “Remember, I was the one who concocted a whole community event in the hopes we could spend some time together.” She laid a cool hand against his cheek, still damp with rain, and he slid toward her like a magnet. Her allure was irresistible.

“You could have just asked,” he said. “Although your friends…”

Her thumb against his face drifted down, massaging the pulse point in his jaw. “Who cares what they think? Ruby and the others were dreadful tonight—I’m not making excuses for them—but people are human. When they don’t have an explanation, they make one up.”

“Like I’ve threatened to bomb the town hall if my tenants don’t get the rent in on time?” he asked.

Belle giggled. “No, I mean they don’t know the real you. I bet they don’t know you listen to show tunes while you restore antiques, eat your fortune cookie first when you go out for Chinese, and cuddle with a blanket and a glass of whiskey on the couch before bed.”

He felt himself smile. “How did you know all that?”

“The last one was just a guess. But Ruby’s not the only one who knows how to spy.” A flush crept up her neck as she realized what she said. “Sorry, uh, that came out wrong. I don’t mean I watch you. I mean, I watch you but I don’t like, look through your windows and…oh, crap.”

He laughed softly at her bewildered expression. “It’s all right, Belle. I’m flattered. My ex-wife, she…” He bit the inside of his cheek. Belle didn’t want to hear Milah’s version of his shortcomings.

“Your ex-wife is a moron.” The steely warmth in her gaze made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

She tossed her broken shoes into the corner, then nodded toward the covered worktable. “What do you have under there, anyway? Everyone is dying of curiosity.”

“Yes, the elephant in the room.” He snickered.

“Well, I know it’s not a time machine…right?”

“No, but what I have under there may allow us to visit another era,” he said mysteriously. “Interested?”

She arched up on dainty tiptoes, her eyes flashing with excitement. “On pins and needles.”

“Have a look, then.” He gestured toward the lumpy table with a smirk.

Belle lifted the corner of the sheet and peeked, her eyes going wide with happy surprise. “Is that what I think it is?”

###

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #Belle x Mr. Gold #a monthly rumbelling #wipweek #rumbelle fluff #mqc writes #meet me in the courtyard #newest wip

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briannaslist · 7 years

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Chapter 12: Anatomy of A Murderer

A Riverdale Recap

The penultimate episode. We get answers, and even more questions. But the biggest mystery is solved – Who killed Jason Blossom? Skip to the end if you’re just curious to know. Stick around for the fun leading up to the trigger being pulled.

The biggest downside to knowing when it’s the episode where you get the answers is that it can feel like it can drag along. It was actually a very good episode.

The episode picks up where the last one left off: Archie and Veronica are at Pop’s, telling Betty that the gun was a plant. Archie has had enough of being treated like the season’s selfish idiot and decides he’s going to take charge and not be an asshole anymore. First he says they need to tell their parents. Because this isn’t Pretty Little Liars and the parents, while at times questionable, are not stupid and oblivious.

They go to the Andrews’ house and tell Mary, Fred, Alice, and Hermione everything they know so far. But the parents are in denial because their perspective says that F.P. has often been in trouble with the law and any statement Archie and Veronica would make would be inadmissible anyway since they trespassed. Archie is like, “Well, we tried to include you, and I can’t speak for anyone else here, but I’m telling the police.” The one downside is that he didn’t go right away.

Let’s check in on Jughead – he’s having a rough night. He’s outside of a bus station, in a phone booth, telling his mom he bought a ticket to Toledo. However, you can tell the conversation isn’t going well because Jughead’s fragile smile falls as his mom keeps talking. Essentially she told him not to come. He hangs up and cries in the phone booth before going back into the station to change his ticket. But the bus doesn’t leave until the next morning and the lobby of the bus station is about to close. More importantly, why wouldn’t his mom want him to come. Maybe things aren’t what they seem in Toledo either; but I suppose that’s a storyline for season 2.

Veronica finds her mom searching for passports and she tells Veronica that there’s no telling what F.P. will say. The association with him is worrying for Hermione and she says that Veronica needs to pack a bag, just in case. Veronica says that they’ll look guilty if they run and Hermione says that she is guilty, using bribing the mayor for the land and paying the Serpents off as examples.

Archie and Betty are searching for Jughead and Archie figured Jughead would be at the bus station. They arrive too late and the station is closed; Archie keeps coming up with the right answer or move, but he’s just always a few moments off. Archie gets a phone call from Veronica, who needs someone to talk to.. Archie tells her that he and Betty are searching for Jughead and Veronica says she’ll meet them. Veronica thinks Jughead would be at Pop’s since it’s the only place in town open 24/7.

Sure enough, when Betty, Veronica, and Archie go to Pop’s, they find Jughead. Veronica tells Jughead that the gun that was found was a plant and that they know his dad is innocent. Kind of makes this next part awkward: F.P. confesses to everything. I mean everything. Kidnapping Jason; attempting to hold him for ransom; killing him; putting him in the cooler; dumping the body; even stealing the investigation photos from Sheriff Keller’s house and setting Jason’s getaway car on fire. So, when the core group shows up to the station and tells the sheriff that F.P. is being framed, it’s really awkward when he responds that F.P. just confessed.

The following morning, Polly joins the Blossoms for breakfast. Penelope shows her the newspaper cover with the headline story of F.P. being arrested for Jason’s murder. Polly is surprised to see that it was him and not one of the Blossoms.

In the school cafeteria, Archie, Betty, and Veronica are talking about their disbelief of the entire situation. Veronica wonders if her father paid someone to plant the gun and Archie holds her hand under the table to comfort her. Kevin comes in and asks how Jughead is doing. It’s a bit uncomfortable because Jughead is obviously not doing well and is being questioned by Kevin’s dad. Kevin tries to defend his dad and says that he’s just doing his job. And that is true; everything they found pointed to F.P. and then he confessed. The Sheriff is in the right, logistically. But Betty says that Sheriff Keller is wasting his time because F.P. didn’t do it. Their awkward conversation is broken by the huge hush that falls over the cafeteria because Jughead just walked in.

Jughead walks right up to Cheryl and tells her that he’s sorry. Cheryl slaps him in the face and starts hitting him and Archie jumps up and pulls her off him. Principal Weatherbee comes in and tells Jughead to come with him. One has to wonder why Jughead even did that; was it some misplaced guilt and he maybe wanted to be punished? Jughead is edgy, that was probably it.

Betty talks to Cheryl and says regardless of what F.P. did, that doesn’t have anything to do with Jughead. Cheryl says things are strange because everyone is coming up to her and saying that she must be relieved that it’s finally all over; she doesn’t feel like it is over. These characters are genre-savvy!

Betty then goes to wait for Jughead outside of the principal’s office. He says Weatherbee questioned him too and he’s not sure if Weatherbee or Sheriff Keller is the bigger jerk. Betty says not to listen to them and starts in again at F.P. being innocent. But Jughead is disillusioned at this point and has given up on F.P. doing right.

Fred hangs up from a phone call with Weatherbee. He tells Archie that Weatherbee is concerned for Jughead’s personal safety and thinks that he should finish out the school year at home. Archie says it’s completely unfair that Jughead is the one who got attacked at school and he’s the one being punished. But I think Weatherbee is right on this; imagine what some of the other kids would say and do to him. He already feels out of place at school and this situation certainly doesn’t help. Fred says that they need to figure out a long term solution for Jughead and Archie says that they are the long term solution. But Fred isn’t Jughead’s legal guardian and doesn’t want to be responsible for Jughead and the trouble that seems to follow his family. Unfortunately, Jughead is hearing all this and he starts to walk out of the house. Archie sees him and stops him, but Jughead tells him that he’ll sleep on the couch in the garage. Archie is pretty pissed at how Jughead is being treated. Finally solidifying that he actually is a good friend who cares.

Hal comes home and shows Betty and Alice the evidence that he stole from Sheriff Keller’s house. Betty points out that it’s strange that F.P. confessed to taking the evidence when he obviously didn’t. Hal says he has no idea why F.P. did that, but when he found out about the confession, he decided to come home to destroy the evidence. He stole it because he was afraid that it would lead back to Polly. Now for an unexpected reveal:

Turns out that Hal’s grandfather that was murdered by a Blossom…was also a Blossom. Clifford’s grandfather and Hal’s grandfather were brothers. When the murder happened, their side of the family split from the Blossoms and took the name Cooper. So…technically Polly and Jason are relatives; this is also the reason why Hal wanted Polly to have an abortion. But you know, had Hal actually said all of this in the very beginning when Polly and Jason started dating, no one would be in this mess. “You two are related,” carries much more weight than, “I don’t like that boy so stop dating him.”

The Coopers rush off to get Polly out of Thornhill. Their arrival wakes up everyone and they have a confrontation in the foyer. Alice says they know all about the incest and the business with the grandfathers being related. They think that’s why the Blossoms had a problem with Polly, much like why Hal didn’t like Jason. But Cliff and Penelope both knew. Penelope says nothing could be more purely Blossom than Polly’s babies and Cliff says to “spare the middle-class morality” and says Jason and Polly were like “third cousins”. All the Coopers are weirded out by the conversation and Hal and Alice take Polly out of the house.

The next morning, Archie and Jughead eat breakfast with Mary at Pop’s. Mary went to see F.P. last night, passing herself off as his lawyer. She says that F.P. never budged from his story. She doesn’t think things will be going well for F.P and suggests that Jughead goes to see him before the arraignment. She does have an interesting question though – she wants to know who Joaquin is. He was F.P.’s only phone call.

Jughead takes Mary’s advice and goes to see F.P. It…does not go well. Or does it? Jughead and F.P. are very emotional and when Jughead is leaving, F.P. tells him not to come back. But there’s something about his expression that tips Jughead off to something being amiss. When Jughead leaves, he calls Betty and tells her that she was right about his dad hiding something.

Archie tells Veronica about F.P.’s phone call to Joaquin. She says Joaquin would know if F.P. was hired by her father. I am so tired of Veronica’s motivation. I can’t even be sympathetic to her issues anymore. It just seems so inconsequential to everything else that’s happening. Who cares about your dad, Veronica?

Veronica, Archie, and Kevin talk to Joaquin about F.P. Kevin says they want the truth and that he’s asking as the sheriff’s son. Which isn’t a powerful title. Literally meaningless in this context. Joaquin tells them that F.P. called him for a late night cleanup job of the body and he just assumed that F.P. is the one that pulled the trigger. Kevin angrily says, “You’re a criminal!” I mean, obviously. He’s in a biker gang. He told you that the same night you met him Kevin, you always knew. Veronica asks if it was Hiram who did it and Joaquin mentions this guy named Mustang who was talking about a rich guy and being the only other person who knew about the murder.

Veronica is insistent on talking to Mustang, so Joaquin takes them to Mustang’s residence. However, they find Mustang dead in the bathtub from what appears to be a drug overdose. Joaquin says he can’t be there and starts leaving with Kevin; Kevin tells Archie and Veronica to call his dad.

The police come to investigate what happened with Mustang; it looks like they also called Hermione and Fred because they’re there too. Under Mustang’s bed, they found a bag full of money with the initials “H.L.”. Sheriff Keller immediately accuses Hermione of being the owner of the bag and Veronica corrects him and says it must be her father’s because he was working with the Serpents. Hermione gets Veronica to shut up after that because it’s not like they actually have to answer the questions right away like that. Couple things though: 1) If you’re conducting illegal activity, why would you ever be stupid enough to give something with your initials; 2) Hermione Lodge is a very feminine woman and that was not a woman’s overnight bag; 3) Those initials could point to anyone; 4) Sheriff Keller seems like a good dad but wow is he shit at being a police officer.

Later, Kevin and Joaquin are at the bus station. Joaquin has a bag and before he leaves he tells Kevin that he should tell his friends to stop what they’re doing before they get hurt. Kevin says, “You don’t know them; just like I don’t know you.” But when Joaquin starts leaving, Kevin calls him back and kisses him. Joaquin says he’s going to miss him and then tells him there’s something else hidden that he didn’t want to mention in front of the others.

Cheryl is still feeling uneasy, so she asks her mom what Jason and Clifford were arguing about the morning that Jason got murdered. Penelope says they’ve been over this and that it was about Jason not being able to stomach the business. Which doesn’t make sense because they sell maple syrup. Cheryl knows there’s more to that and asks what it was that Jason couldn’t handle; then she takes it further and asks if he was afraid of Penelope and Clifford. Penelope is pissed at the allegation of them killing Jason and drags Cheryl out to the barn with maple syrup and says, “There’s the big secret Cheryl! Maple syrup! Drown in it.” Which doesn’t really help her, “I’m not a murderer” case, but what do I know.

Kevin tells Betty about what Joaquin said to him. Those two, along with Jughead, go looking for what Joaquin stashed. Kevin says that the phone call from F.P. was him telling Joaquin not to go with the contingency plan because it was too dangerous. Joaquin heeded the warning, which is why he didn’t mention it at first. The group finds the bag with Jason’s jacket.

Then the group gets together with Archie and Veronica in Archie’s garage. Betty discovers that there’s a hole in the pocket of Jason’s jacket. In the lining of the jacket is a flash drive. And on the flash drive is a video of the murder. After the video concludes, Betty calls Cheryl and tells her that she needs to get out of her house.

Cheryl thanks Betty and goes into the dining room where her parents are having dinner. Cheryl stands by Penelope and says, “You did a bad thing daddy. And now everyone knows.”

Alice brings the flash drive to Sheriff Keller and the mayor. The content of the video consisted of Jason tied up in the basement under the Serpent’s bar, being taunted by Mustang. Mustang leaves when Clifford Blossom comes in. Cliff takes the engagement ring from Jason and then shoots him in the head without even a second thought. Like grandfather, like grandson.

F.P. confessed to the murder because Clifford threatened Jughead’s life if F.P. didn’t confess. However, F.P. is still getting charged with a lot of other things, such as obstruction of justice, mishandling of evidence, and perjury. Though I don’t think that last one should stick because F.P. was under duress when he did that.

Veronica comes home and apologizes to Hermione for ever thinking that Hiram could have been part of a murder. Her mom says it’s okay and tells her that Hiram is coming home. I sincerely hope that that is the last we hear of Veronica’s constant, “My father, my dad,” business. She was starting to sound like Prince Zuko and wasn’t nearly as endearing or sympathetic about it.

The police go to Thornhill to get Clifford. Cheryl and Penelope are outside and they point the police in the direction of the barn. When Sheriff Keller opens the door, we see Cliff, who appeared to have hanged himself and a spilled barrel that reveals drugs. No wonder Jason couldn’t stomach the family business.

Biggest questions now: Why did Cliff kill Jason instead of just letting him leave? Did F.P. set Jason’s getaway car on fire and help with clean up? Is Cliff the person who framed F.P. and tipped the police off? Will Joaquin ever return? Can the friend group actually remain a group of five after all the unpleasantness with Sheriff Keller and F.P. Jones? And what happened in between Cheryl telling her father she knew and him hanging himself?

The season finale will be stacked.

#riverdale #riverdale 1x11 #riverdale recap #tv recaps #riverdale1

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