#Like the shift in the story perfectly coincides with the change from his first costume to his main one

[sleepingpopplio]

Deku’s hero costume and indicating tonal shifts within a story

This post builds on everything I mentioned in a previous one, and highlights the brilliance in Horikoshi’s character design. To be more specific, the brilliance in Deku’s design and his hero costume. I also want to start this post by saying that I am an artist myself, and while I’m always learning new things, I do have some knowledge and understanding of color theory and character design. Now, on the surface, Deku is purposely made to look as non-threatening as possible. He has very few sharp edges, his face is round, his eyes are round, and he has very curly hair. Furthermore, when you learn art and character design, one of the fundamentals is understanding how shapes affect the audience’s perception of the character. It’s a very complicated subject and shape language can be used in various ways, but to simplify: sharp edges and triangle shapes indicate harshness or intimidation, square shapes indicate stability and balance, and circles or round shapes indicate softness and gentleness. Izuku falls under the category of circle shapes and as previously stated without his hero costume, particularly in the beginning of the story before he loses more of his innocence, he looks relatively harmless. But let’s take a look at his first hero costume…

His first hero costume is very bright, with a mint green and white & red accents. Izuku has just begun his hero journey, and he has not had any pressure placed on his shoulders yet (except his need to not be useless and prove himself as having value due to his trauma from years of being looked down on for his quirklessness). He doesn’t know about the true history of one for all, or all for one. He hasn’t even encountered shigaraki yet. The use of highly saturated and bright colors are supposed to look odd on purpose, because this costume was designed by an bright eyed child who simply wants to be a hero, and not by a pro who’s been training for this moment for years. Furthermore, the light color scheme fits the idea of a positive protagonist who wants to goes into everything he does with an upbeat attitude. Think of Superman, who also have very saturated, bright colors in his design, and is another character is is known for his optimism. It should also be noted that the shaped in the hero costume are much sharper compared to deku himself. The stripe pattern, the utility belt, and elbow/knee guards are all very angular. This then can be taken in two different, yet connected directions. Deku, despite coming off as a harmless character, is able to function well as a hero right from the start because of his intelligence and ability to think on his feet. He’s an analyzer who takes his time to dissect his opponent’s weaknesses, and therefore one could say that he holds the capacity of being a very grounded character. Sound familiar? That is the square shape doing its job of conveying another aspect to Izuku that is best seen when he is in action as a hero. Thus, Izuku’s inner strength, reliability, and strong will are conveyed through square shapes in his costume. However, the angular nature of the same design patterns I’m mentioning, in addition to the pointy all might ears on his head, could also be hinting at Izuku’s ferocity in battle. I’ve already mentioned in a previous post I linked at the start of this but will link again just in case you don’t want to scroll up again lol, that Izuku has an intense, repressed inner rage that stems from his childhood trauma and self loathing. The sharp edges in his hero costume allude to this fact, but it can easily ignored since the color scheme is so bright and positive— his inner darkness can be overlooked by Izuku’s positive exterior. But let’s take a look at deku’s 2nd hero costume, and how it indicates a shift in Izuku’s character.

It should first be noted that Izuku only puts on this costume After the sports festival. The festival is where the process of an insurmountable amount of pressure being put on Izuku’s shoulders begins. He learns about the true legacy of One For All, he learns about his destiny to fight All For One, and he is told that he has to become the next symbol of peace and therefore has to have an “I am here” moment. All of these things are responsibilities that Izuku was never previously told about, and was never given any indication that he had to worry about. Thus, Izuku’s mental health begins taking a serious downward decline starting at this arc. This decline, or regression, follows him for the rest of the series all culminates in the vigilante arc. I won’t go into too much detail about that, because as previously stated I’ve already gone in depth about it, but I am mentioning this because this costume perfectly represents the beginning of Izuku’s regression. The color is much darker, and instead of white accents there are black ones. I cannot emphasize enough how big a deal it is for a superhero to change costumes to wear a much darker one. Spider-Man is the most well known case of this, as all of his darker toned or black suits often indicate a dark time in his life where he struggles with his inner rage and weight of responsibility. Does this sound familiar? Horikoshi loves heros such as Spider-Man, and that is why quirks such as blackwhip and danger sense are based off of Spider-Man’s abilities. It wouldn’t be much a stress to assume that is where Horikoshi also got the idea of making deku’s suit darker from. Therefore, Deku putting on his darker suit after he begins his slow downward spiral serves as foreshadowing to the audience that all is not well with our protagonist. While it may look better than his last, because he has become more mature and thoughtful about his choices, what it represents is not come-Worley positive. Furthermore, the hints of white, the remnants of his first costume, serve to show the remaining innocence he has left, or will have left by the time he stops wearing this version of the costume. It’s not much, buts it’s a beacon of hope that maybe it’s not too late.

By the time Izuku unlocks his shoot style, even more black is added to his costume in the form of his leg armor and his iron soles. He shifts to the shoot style after the summer camp and Bakugo retrieval arcs, which were very intense and traumatic events for him. He’s developing his own identity outside of allmight, which is positive, but the increasing amount of dark colors in his suit is concerning. His mental state is getting worse, he is continuing to enter a darker phase in his life, and it is happening at a slow enough pace that most other characters do not notice what is happening. Surprisingly, his costume does not change much for most of the future arcs. From a strictly character design perspective, this makes sense, as constantly changing a characters costume can make them less recognizable and thus alienate them from the audience. Plus, it’s simply easier to draw because the author will always know how the character is supposed to look. But, this could also be a sign of how Izuku tries even harder to put forth a positive persona while at the same time hiding what he is going through. We all know that things get worse before they get better, so let’s look at another costume change…

We don’t have many colored versions of Dark Deku yet, but from what we do have we can see how much work horikoshi put in his design to make it as menacing as possible. From the tattered costume, to the muddied colors, to Deku’s facing being hidden by a mask and cowl full of sharp edges, with only his pupils being visible. One thing about character design that I haven’t mentioned yet is the effect of showing/not showing a characters face. With characters, seeing their faces tends to make the viewers relate to them more, as we can more clearly see their facial expressions and make eye contact with them. Covering a character’s face purposefully creates a disconnect between them and the viewer. Think of characters who have something to hide, or struggle to be emotionally vulnerable. The personas of Batman vs Bruce Wayne, Spider-Man vs Peter Parker are comic book examples of characters who present themselves very differently as super heroes compared to their civilian forms, and wear masks that cover most of if not all of their faces. Furthermore, that is why in many Spider-Man movies the character will take off his mask a lot, even if it is mid-fight, because the audience needs to see his face in order to connect with him during those important moments.

Now with Izuku, as previously stated, we don’t see any of his face except his pupils while he is in his Dark Deku form. We are instantly disconnected from him. That is also why we’ve rarely seen deku wear his mask up until this point— even though we knew that it was always there as a part of his costume. The only other time that deku wears his mask for a significant amount of time is with his first costume, and when we is trying to simply imitate all might instead of trying to be his own hero (just as a lot of bright-eyed children would do when it comes to their innocent wish of wanting to be like their hero). He is trying to run from his emotions and who he is as Izuku Midoriya by hiding behind the persona of the Hero Deku, the 9th holder of One For All whose only purpose and source of value is to defeat All For One. Only when he takes the mask off at the end of the arc do we finally get to see genuine emotion from him. In addition, during this arc Deku is incredibly aggressive and vengeful. He has very little patience for his opponents. This is emphasized by the fact that there are almost no soft edges in his costume at this point. With it being torn to shred, there are shard and jagged edges everywhere you look. It may be a pain to draw, but it’s worth it for the effect it achieves. Any source of light colors are also gone. The white accents, which once represented the little innocence that Izuku had left as he continued to be plunged into the darkness of the hero system, are completely gone. His white gloved are now a dark brownish color, and even the dark green of his costume has become even darker. He’s so dirty that in many drawing of this form he is even drawn in all black, furthering the parallels between him and other comic book heroes with dark forms. He is the embodiment of despair and rage, thus cementing this costume as one that, in the words of civilians within the manga, “would never guess is a hero”.

Now this leads us to Izuku’s final costume change. Once again, we don’t have many colored pieces of this one and the ones we do have don’t show his entire body. However, we can notice some things about the color. Gran Torino’s cape is not longer just a thrown on addition, and instead Deku’s entire costume feels more cohesive and inclusive of the cape. Not only that, but the specific shade feels more like the color gold than a plain yellow. Gold is a color that often signifies success, and is commonly seen as the color of champions. Izuku is ready to finish this story, the legacy of one forand for all (lol, get it). But this time, he’s ready to do it with the help of his friends. That is what makes him a champion, instead of the villainous persona he had when he tried to complete OFA’s legacy on his own. Furthermore, the main color of his costume is much darker, and almost looks black. Izuku has been through a lot dating back to when he was a little kid, and he has a lot of trauma. He’s tried to run from that trauma all his life, but by the end of the vigilante/villain hunt arc, he finally is able to confront it in a healthy way with the help of his friends. He’s finally healing, and while he will never be able to get the childhood and innocence that he lost back, he can still find comfort and human connection as he moves toward a better future. Similarly, much of the lighter, more highly saturated colors on Deku’s costume will never come back. Gold is not a color often seen on children, and thus his costume is much more mature than his previous ones. While it may be bittersweet seeing our protagonist all grown up, the use of color and return to similar shape language signify that change is a part of life, and that at the end of the day a person will still be the same at their core. What matters is finding hope and success in the darkness.

So what does this all mean in the context of the story at large? Well, since Izuku is our protagonist and we go through the story via his perspective, as he regresses, and his costume changes, the story changes. We enter BNHA with a comedic and lighthearted story. There’s plenty of gags, pretty black and white interpretations of good and evil, and a decent amount of relatively laid back chapters/episodes. But during the arc that stain is introduced, Deku’s costume changes because of his own issues, and the story gets darker. His story gains more black accents, and the story becomes even darker. Deku has is dark deku form, and the story is the darkest it’s ever been. But once deku changes into his final costume, the story is still dark, but there’s a sense of hope that things will get better. Deku has hope that he can save Shigaraki. Thus, Horikoshi masterfully uses color theory and shape language to shape Izuku Midoriya as a character, his regression, and the increasingly dark tone of the story through the eyes of our protagonist.

#I had an epiphany and really wanted to write my thought process down even if this may seem obvious to some people #I just find it so interesting how deku’s costumes subvert the audience’s initial expections of him #Like the shift in the story perfectly coincides with the change from his first costume to his main one #And the shape language in the costumes say so much about who deku is as a person and hints to the audience about much of his hidden nature #Horikoshi is a master at character design and using it to progress the themes of his story #We need to pay attention to the little details such as as character design and title names more because everything has a purpose #We just need to be willing to see it #character design #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya #bnha spoilers #because I mention his latest costume #Bnha meta #bnha analysis #kohei horikoshi #Deku #bnha deku

[greytoiletpaper]

Out on Allen Street, it’s 7 in the Morning

Set in the Street Siblings au by @a-sketchy-character | @streetsiblings without which I may not have had the motivation to write this much.

Drizzle | Deluge | Squall | AO3

Chapter 4: susurration

The world is dark.

Somehow, she knows how many marks and cuts criss-cross her body; how many bruises decorate her like a canvas. But she can’t feel them, not even one.

Instead, all she can do is listen, tuning in to the rain as it pours, as red droplets fall in time off of Mad Dog’s blade. If she really listens to the sound, it almost sounds like a different boy’s laughter.

She focuses on the noise and it alone, her body so perfectly still.

Mad Dog thrusts his blade to her chest, and Cassandra’s eyes open.

-- 

They’ve only been in Gotham for a week, yet, it feels like he never left. At least for Park Row, the “Crime Alley”, the city has never changed. Slowly, the Red Hood and Ravager make the area their own. He does everything to make sure that the Bat never catches a whiff of what he’s doing. He knows it is pointless; even if Bruce knew, he would be too much of a coward to venture into the evil heart of the city.

It infuriates him, the remnants of the old argument. If Batman was ever truly needed. It would be - no, should be - here. In the black, beating heart of Gotham, where crime and cruelty channel through its citizens as if it were in their own blood. Yet for all he prattles about his crusade of justice, Bruce will never set foot into Crime Alley; too hung up on the ghosts of his past to banish the ones that haunt others.

It’s why he’s wearing the original persona of the man who murdered him. Jason had lived these streets, born and raised and died because of them. Deep down, Jason understands what Bruce simply refuses to believe. Some people simply want to watch the world burn, and they can never be stopped, only carefully controlled, managed or otherwise taken out. He never wants what happened to him to be inflicted on someone else. Not if he can help it.

Now, Red Hood is here, slinking through the darkened hallways of Arkham. Past every guard and camera until he arrives at one particular cell. He knocks on the door, and a mop of neon green flips upwards.

The madman beams; his eyes are whirlpools of chaotic energy.

“What’s this? Birdy clipped his wings!” The Joker begins, guffawing like a howling hyena. “I was wondering when you’d come back to see me, little Jay.”

To his credit, Jason doesn’t react. The pneumatic seals of the helmet hiss as it comes off. The Joker never takes his eyes off his face.

“There you are, my boy. Just like your uncle Jay” The lunatic says without tone, feral grin seeming plastered. “Say, you seen Cass anywhere?”

That makes him shift uneasily on his feet. The Joker leans in close, almost conspiratorially.

“You think the Bat ran her out? That he…” Something morbid flashes in the eyes of his monster. “Killed her just like I did you?”

Jason wants to drive his fists into the man’s back. Stamp on his legs until the bones shatter. Bludgeon him over and over with whatever is on hand until the madman’s flesh is nothing but paste. Instead, he stands frozen as the cackling echoes around the room and in his ears.

“I’m not doing this for you,” Is what he says. “And I’m not doing this for me either.”

His hand lifts the pistol from its holster.

“I’m doing this because someone has to do what Batman can’t.”

The Joker takes the words in stride, nodding to himself. To Jason, it’s the calmest he has ever seen him.

“Not a fan of the whole motorcycle fetish style, but to each his own,” The madman’s eyes, still rotting in their own insanity, meet his. Something about the gaze seems so clear despite the instability. “You’re going to be wonderful for the Red Hood name.”

He sighs.

“When you do it, boy, make sure you get as much of the colour out of me.”

Jason nods and presses the barrel into Joker’s forehead, closes his eyes, and everything is silent.

 --

He presses his hand to the glass, the rain sliding down the pane on the other side, its streams the same lengths as the rivers that flow from his red crown.

--

Fact One, a statement: Roman Sionis is the Black Mask, one of Gotham's most powerful crime lords with connections running deeply in the underground drugs and weapons trade.

Fact Two, an amendment: Roman Sionis is the Black Mask, arguably one of Gotham's most powerful crime lords with sizeable connections in the weapons trade.

Fact Three, a truth: He is absolutely livid with the Red Hood and the Ravager.

Roman stares at the text on the notepad; he picks it up and throws it across the room.

In the space of two nights, the new duo had taken over his entire drug operation and cut off every tie Roman had to Crime Alley. Internally, he thinks ‘cut off’ is still too lacking a description. Half of his thugs breathing through tubes for days. Pimps found castrated and dangling from lampposts. Drug dealers with their mouths frothing as they dissociated. If the rumour mill among villains is anything to go by, Red Hood had killed the Joker in his own damn cell. Roman shudders. He’d seen the images from the crime.

The pair are definitely a threat, and Roman needs him gone as soon as possible. Hiring the Joker would have been one of the best choices: effective, relatively cheap and definitely motivated to take on whoever dares don his previous mantle. Alas, reality disagrees.

Black Mask picks up the phone, ready to dial the more expensive alternative. He sighs and hopes they don’t call Deathstroke the ‘Terminator’ for nothing.

 --

Cassandra dives away at the last second, adrenaline flushing through her body and lifting the fog from her mind. Her opponent’s blade impacts with the ground, firmly planting itself the whole way. Mad Dog, clearly thrown off, becomes an easy target with her renewed energy.

She does not hold back, unleashing a flurry of blows to the assassin’s chest, even as he tries to hold his defence together. With renewed focus, she redirects every strike he makes and strikes him back thrice as hard.

It is not long until Mad Dog is at Cassandra’s mercy, nearly a bloody pulp under her hand.

“Finish it,” Shiva calls suddenly, and she almost complies. But, with her hazy vision, the images of Faizul and the assassin blend together. The vertigo Cassandra is feeling becomes sharper, and she’s drowning in it.

In her hesitation, Shiva tuts and stabs her own blade into Mad Dog’s heart, crimson fluid spraying in all directions.

Cass doubles over, desperately heaving, and liquid green purges from her body.

 --

Bruce stares up at the readout on the Batcomputer. There are new players in Gotham, but there’s something that makes them stand out from the others. They make headway faster than he’s ever seen it, clearing out and claiming Park Row as their own territory in a week.

Twenty-seven confirmed kills and thirty-four hospitalisations. He would have stopped with his investigation then and there. Yet, the detective in him tugs the back of his mind. He checks through the names again and finds that each one is attached to a laundry list of crimes that become more appalling the further he reads.

Then Red Hood killed the Joker; and for the first time since the madman’s debut, Gotham is quiet.

Bruce rubs his face in his hands and turns to the screens entirely dedicated to monitoring his daughter Cassandra. (The memorial makes itself known in his peripheral vision.) Her work in Hong Kong as Black Bat had been phenomenal so far. Every story he can find of her weaves the same story: Black Bat, hero of the Forgotten. Of the waylaid and the oppressed.

What would they think? Bruce finally turns to the statue, mouthing the words on the plaque to himself. 

“Can you promise something for me, Bruce? Just one thing?”

  “Anything for you, Jaylad.” 

He tears his eyes away.

Damian becomes cagey whenever either of the three vigilantes come up in conversation. It is suspicious, but he has had the lesson very solidly ironed in his mind how unconducive to understanding he can be. So, he gives his son his space.

Despite the child's refined nature, little pieces of him remind him of Jason, far beyond the boy's temper, pride, or even his cursing. Bruce had seen Damian in the library once, his fingers tracing the spine of a newer copy of Huckleberry Finn.

Red and orange flash by his primary monitor, and Bruce pulls himself from his thoughts.

Batman rises, ready to confront whatever ghosts will taunt him in the shadows.

-- 

The world roars in her ears, and no matter how hard she tries, Cassandra can’t stop the erratic sequence of deep breaths that claw out her throat. For once she’s glad she’s not wearing her old costume. The mask reminded her too much of smoke inhalation and chains and-.

“Why?” She rasps in a throaty, breathless voice that has not escaped her for years. “Why would you do this?”

“Can’t a mother test the progress of her daughter?” Shiva replies coolly. Her stance gives off nothing, so Cassandra does not deign her a response.

“He went looking for me, you should know.”

Her head snaps up.

“He was curious. A unique girl who can read the body as if it were a book and a unique woman who can do the very same? An unlikely coincidence,” Shiva turns her head away, ducked down as if she had already admitted too much. “He asked me, if it was my choice to leave you with your father.”

“It wasn’t.”

Sandra nods.

“He told me that was, and I quote, ‘a load of shit’.”

“Sounds like Jason,” Cass mutters under her breath. A hush falls between them, not comfortable but not unwelcome either.

“It is not me you came here for,” Sandra says with such conviction that Cass can’t help but gape in her disbelief. Of course, she did. Shiva gave birth to her.

Before she can voice her thoughts, Sandra grasps her shoulder and wraps her arms around Cass.

“You’ll find your brother soon. I can promise you that.”

 --

Gotham rumbles, her shock snaking through the crown of her scalp. She knows that tonight is the night; when events will pass and tear the whole city asunder. For better or for worse, she cannot tell.

But she is eager to find out for herself.

 --

“Think that’s a wrap for tonight?” Jason asks quietly, almost inaudible over the Gotham rain. It’s the only coherent sentence he’s made in days, so Rose takes what she can get.

“Probably, you’re not shanghaiing me into grabbing groceries, right?”

“Maybe,” He chuckles, but even though his voice is filtered by their comms, she can tell it’s forced. “Anyone ever tell you how similar some of our problems are?”

“Really? You realised this just now?” Rose rolls her eyes because, honestly. “I mean, at least your dad isn’t some psycho assassin supervillain.”

“Aww, Rosie, making your old man sad. Truly, I’m hurt,” Hues from orange and blue armour melt from the shadows as Deathstroke emerges, eyeing her. “You don’t wear the uniform like Grant did.”

“It��s not meant to and either way, I barely knew him or Joey.” She draws her blades, trying to hide how much her arms are shaking. It doesn’t help. “No thanks to you.”

“Is that Slade?” Jason’s voice is like music to her ears, relaxing her muscles in the ways she needs.

“I made your brothers stronger,” There’s an edge to Slade’s voice, sharp as the glistening blade he brandishes. Ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. “I suggest you come with me so you can be the same.”

“What, dead because of problems you caused?” She laughs shakily, grimacing under her mask. “I suggest you fuck off.”

“I’m coming, Rose.”

“No can do. There’s a hit on the two of you, and its fait accompli,” Deathstroke makes a ‘what-can-you-do?’ gesture and Rose darts forward, her tears faster than the raindrops that dance on her skin.

 --

Batman has followed the Red Hood for hours now, and he has no idea what to think. He expected someone wielding the Joker’s former identity to be as insane as the Clown Prince himself. Yet, the red helmet only bobs up and down as if it were in conversation rather than rotating listlessly.

Despite how antithetical the new face in Gotham is to his beliefs, some actions catch him off guard about the man.

While he has seen no deaths on this patrol, with every bone the criminal breaks, the same hands offer food to street children and escort working girls to their homes. Bruce is thrown, viscerally, into a memory of the bird that flew beside him to do the very same.

The Dark Knight watches him stalk through Park Row, freeze and then take off in another direction.

It is time.

He pursues the criminal, sprinting across the rooftops of Gotham, gliding above catwalks and fire escapes. Within minutes, he overtakes and blocks the path ahead of Red Hood, who curses and vaults over his body.

Or at least, he tries to as Batman grips the man’s ankle and slams him back into the pavement. Hood never misses a second, drawing a knife and swiping at his limbs. He lets go; the man faces him again, twirling the knife round and round.

“B,” A modulated voice hangs in the air, but there is a quality to it that tickles his conscious, like an old ghost whispering in his ears.

“Red Hood, I suggest you surrender peacefully, or I –.”

“Cut the act, alright? You think that just because you’re Batman, nobody can be above you,” Red Hood laughs. Through the modulator of his helmet, it comes off as hollow. “The truth with a saying like that –.” The knife is stowed away. “– It just means nobody is beneath you either.”

The criminal grapples him; kick, jab, punch, kick again in a rapid dance of attacks that Bruce can barely keep up with. Some of the criminal’s movements are achingly familiar yet so foreign that the composite form nauseates him. Red hood strikes over and over until he actually has him, the Dark Knight, pinned.

“And some of us can’t wait to drag you all the way down.”

Jason had always had a gift for speaking. His sister’s hands may be knives, but his words were bullets.

Breaking out of the Red Hood’s hold, that is what Bruce muses in his mind.

 --

They’ve been at a game of cat and mouse for so long now. Locked in a chase of diving and darting around a maze of alleyways and rooftops. Jason drops on one of them and turns to face his pursuer, who draws short away from him.

“What, can’t work it out?” He triggers the seals on his helmet as he lifts it off. Without the lenses he can see, even in the rain, the second Bruce recognises him. “You really didn’t care enough to remember my name or something?”

“Jason,” Bruce’s tone gives off nothing and everything. “W-Why are you doing this? How are you –.”

“I’m doing this because you refuse to do what needs to be done.” Jason snarls, venom laced in every word. “You want to rule them by fear, but you never go any further with the ones who aren’t afraid.”

“Jason, I don’t under-.”

“I died for your cause, and in less than a year you shove some other kid in the uniform so he can die too!” He is raving now. He also doesn’t care. “You let my murderer run wild and slaughter thousands and when someone finally steps up to do what needed to be done, you cut her out?”

“I had to –.”

“Had to what? Isolate her? Run her out of the only family she’s ever known? She was my sister, my whole fucking world; who believed in you and you left her like she means nothing to you! Cass is gone now, and that is your fault!”

“If you would –.”

“Do you even remember? That the only thing I ever made you swear to me, that you vowed on your life, was that you’d never let her down?” For once this night, his voice isn’t angry or vicious. It is a void, detached from any feeling. “Guess I should have known better.”

He knows, almost intrinsically despite the years, that if there is one thing that Jason has said tonight, those are the words that pierce Batman’s defences. It’s why he lets Bruce rush forward like he wants to. Allows the chase to continue. When he jumps, Jason lands in an apartment that carries the same bloodstains that leaked down his mother’s arms a lifetime ago.

 --

Black Bat arrives in Gotham, and superficially, it is empty. She almost hails Barbara when bright flashes shine in her peripheral vision. Lo and behold, Deathstroke and an unknown are locked in a duel below her.

Cassandra drops from above, and at that moment, she kicks Deathstroke into a wall hard enough to knock him unconscious. His opponent, she notices, stops immediately.

Before her is a girl, hair silver under the moonlight, garbed in orange and black.

Then the Batmobile rounds the corner, a small figure rising from the hatch.

"Black Bat," Robin says, "You have not responded to Oracle, she was-."

Damian's eyes bug out once he notices the girl beside Cassandra. She fully expects him to snarl or draw his ridiculously long katana. Instead, uncharacteristically rushes forward and embraces the girl tightly instead.

"Wilson. A-are you finally assisting us in Gotham?" Damian says, even with his head buried in a shoulder. "Drake may be intelligent, but his incompetence with the sword is impossible to rectify."

"Missed you too, D-man," The girl chuckles and ruffles the boy's hair. "I would help, but what’s up with tall, slim and broody over there?"

Cassandra crosses her arms expectantly at Robin, who obviously only just remembered her presence when he unlatches himself immediately. His cheeks may be red, but Damian still raises his chin proudly.

"I found her, Rose," His body language and eyes seem to sing. "I found his ukht."

The girl spins sharply, wolfish eyes drawn wide. “You’re her,” Rose breathes, awe rippling off her body. “You’re Cass.”

She would have flinched, but the body language is so familiar. Cass tilts her head.

“Yes.”

Rose grabs her arm so hastily that she almost rips it back in shock. But something is so honest about her body language that Cass relents, letting the girl lead her where she is needed.

 --

He kneels, tracing the dark stains. Behind him, Batman pauses. Not even he would dare to disturb the sanctity of this room.

“Jaylad, please -.”

“Don’t call me that. That isn’t who I am,” Jason rounds on Bruce. He gestures to the shattered window, the ripped upholstery, and the bloodstained floor. “This is what I grew up being, what I never wanted anyone else to.”

He taps the insignia on Bruce’s chest with his pistol.

“That, right here, was your promise to people like me. People that needed help and protection,” He spits. “And you couldn’t even do it for the ones closest to you.”

"I just want to-."

"Want to what? Parade your antiquated sense of morality to hide, while the rest of the world suffers for what you refuse to do? Or cast out others from taking it in their own hands?"

Tears are building in his eyes, but he wipes them away while Batman stands ramrod straight.

"I don't think you understand. That you've never understood," The man begins, and Jason gapes because what the hell does that mean? "If I let myself cross that line, even for Joker, I won't ever come back."

"You know what I think about that, Bruce?" Jason breathes deeply, feeling the whispers of the Pit roaring with the heavy rain in his ears. "I think that's a huge self-aggrandizing load of bullshit."

He charges forward, knocking Batman's legs from under him and ramming his face into the ground. Batman is down to his knees before either can even blink.

"And I'm so fucking tired of hearing it."

Jason levels the barrel at Bruce’s forehead, torbernite lining the edges of his vision, engulfing him in an absence.

“What’s the use of you learning to do right when it’s troublesome to do right?”

 --

Then, her voice shatters the tension in the air, gripping his heart and silencing the susurrations of the rain that suffocated his ears.

“When it ain’t no trouble to do wrong, and the wages is just the same.”

-- 

“Cass?” The boy in the alleyway says. A gun. An apple in his hand. The girl falters in the doorway, her fist tongue clenches, and she nods.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#street siblings au #cassandra cain #Jason Todd #bruce wayne #batfamily #fanfiction #My fic #fanfic #dc comics #mad dog #the joker #red hood #black bat #ravager #rose wilson #slade wilson #black mask #batman #lady shiva #sandra wu san #angst #angst and fluff #jayrose #cass and jason find each other #some things change #other things don't change at all

[mercurysnitch]

Mother Mercury, Part 1

Summary: Ben meets a mysterious young wardrobe assistant with a startling resemblance to Freddie Mercury on the set of Bohemian Rhapsody. Is it just a coincidence, or could Freddie’s legacy have included a very large secret?

Author’s note: Surprise! This is the first part of the Ben x OC story I’ve been working on for a little while. I was planning to only make it a oneshot, but the plot’s a bit too complicated. This was born from an idea I had while home alone one day that sparked several hours of furious typing (I tend to follow the muse when it strikes, if I have time of course). It’s taken me a while to get this together because I changed my mind about some major aspects of the plot after I’d already started writing, which meant a lot of reworking of what was already there. I have parts of the rest of the story written, but it’s really just snippets at the moment, so I’m not sure when the next part will be up. I’d like to get it done while I’m on uni break this week, but I’ve got a lot of other stuff to do as well so I can’t make any promises. FYI, at this point I’m planning 3 to 4 parts, but that might change as I write more of it.

It’s not actually explained in this part, but this whole story basically hinges on Freddie Mercury having accidentally gotten a woman pregnant during a drug-fuelled party back in the late 70s. If you’re not comfortable with that idea, that’s fine, but stop reading now. I don’t want to give too much away here because things will be explained more in the next part (though it won’t be explicit), but rest assured Freddie in this story is still “gay as a daffodil.” For the record, I personally believe Freddie may have been biromantic, but in this story he’s essentially ‘gay but also things happened while I was high,’ and those things resulted in a lovechild. Remember this is fiction, and sometimes certain things just need to happen for the overall plot to work.   

Warnings: Writing about real people, allusions to teen pregnancy, sudden POV switch near the end

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Ben ran over and launched himself at the dark-haired, denim-clad figure from behind. “You absolute bastard! Why did you-". The petite figure jumped and turned around. “What the- oh hi Ben.” The girl’s yell trailed off when she realised who had just jumped on her. Ben was stunned. “Oh my God, I am so sorry" he babbled, "I thought you were Rami in costume.” “It’s ok” she reassured him. “I think I should have worn a different jacket, I’ve been getting that all day.” “Well you do look a lot like him from behind” Ben commented. “But not from the front?” the girl questioned, smiling slightly. Ben shook his head. “No, from the front you look like… Freddie.” The girl raised an eyebrow. “That surprises you?” “No, it’s just… you look so much like Freddie you could practically be a makeup reference" Ben explained. "It’s… a little weird, to be perfectly honest.” There was an awkward pause. “So what do you do here? You working?” Ben asked finally. “Wardrobe assistant" she told him. "Not bad for my first proper job.” Ben smiled. “Not bad at all” he agreed.

A sudden thought occurred to him. "Wait, how do you know my name? We've never met before." The girl smiled. "You're one of the stars. Everyone here knows who you are." Ben looked sheepish. "I'm not used to being a star" he muttered. "Hey, why haven't I seen you around yet?" "I'm low down the chain" the girl explained. "I've mostly been dressing extras and keeping stuff in order, they don't let the underlings near the big names." "I'm not…" Ben protested feebly. He really didn't feel like a big star, not yet anyway. The girl smiled again. "You are here." Ben just shook his head. "Speaking of names" he said smoothly, "I haven't caught yours yet." "Mel" she replied. Ben smiled. "Lovely."

Mel saw a lot of Ben after that, not always intentionally. The very next day they ran into each other at the catering tent during the lunch break. Ben grinned when he spotted her dark hair weaving through the tables. "Freddie clone! Good to see you again." Mel smiled back. "You too." She filled her plate and went to leave, but Ben stopped her. "You meeting anyone?" Mel was confused. "No?" "Come and eat with us then" he offered. Mel considered it. Spending time with a blonde hunk was tempting of course, but then again they were supposed to be working together. No one had specifically told her not to socialise with the actors while on set, but she got the impression it wasn't really encouraged. Then again, what harm would one lunch do? She smiled. "Alright then." Ben beamed at her agreement. "Follow me."

He led her over to a table already occupied by two blokes apparently deep in conversation. One was tall and lanky, his face obscured by an enormous curly wig. That must be Gwilym, Mel thought, with his Brian May hair on. The other was smaller and paler, his head also covered by a long auburn wig. Joe, Mel realised, dressed as a pre-perm John Deacon. "I still think my hair is worse" Joe pouted. "You don't suffocate under it every day" Gwilym replied. "You didn't have to get a perm though" Joe pointed out.  "Alright, you win" Gwilym laughed. Ben cleared his throat. "Gentlemen." "Benny boy" Joe responded. Ben groaned. "That's Joe" he told Mel, indicating the redhead. "The tall one's Gwilym. This is Mel" he introduced. "From wardrobe." "Pleasure" Gwilym replied instantly, as Ben and Mel sat down. 

Joe eyed Mel up from the seat opposite her. "Say, Mel, how d'you feel about perms?" Gwilym sighed. "Joe, don't." "Why not?" Joe protested. Gwilym turned to face Mel. "Sorry to be nosy, but how old are you, love?" "21" Mel told him. Gwilym shifted back to look at Joe, whose face had suddenly blanched. "That's why not. Couldn't you tell she was too young for you?" Joe shrugged. "It's hard sometimes. Sorry Mel" he added sheepishly. She smiled. "It's alright, I would have turned you down anyway." "Why?" Joe whined, pretending to be upset. Mel grinned mischievously. "You're nearly the same age as my mum." Joe looked bewildered. "How is that even possible… unless-oh." Joe's eyes widened and he fell silent as the realisation hit.

"Where's Rami?" Ben asked, diving in to change the subject before the awkwardness consumed them all. "With Lucy" Joe told him, giggling. Mel was confused. "Wait, so are they a thing now?" Gwilym grinned mischievously. "They refuse to admit it, but yes." "Naww, that's cute" Mel cooed. Ben snorted. "It'd be cuter if they'd stop bloody hiding, it's not like everyone else can't tell they're mad for each other.” Rami and Lucy were clearly very preoccupied because neither of them appeared for the rest of the half hour Mel was allotted for her lunch break. By the end of it she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to go, and her dining companions definitely didn’t want to see her leave.  

Ben was unusually quiet as he watched her wend her way back across the set to the wardrobe truck. This did not escape his friends’ notice. “Earth to Ben? You still with us, mate?” Ben jumped slightly as Gwilym’s voice finally dragged his attention back to his castmates. “Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?” “About Mel” Joe explained, grinning slightly at his friend’s obvious distraction. “Right, yeah” Ben muttered. “Don’t you think she looks like Freddie?” he added, slightly breathless. Joe and Gwilym glanced at each other. “Yes,” the Welshman replied exasperatedly, “that’s what we’ve been discussing since we left.” “Sorry” Ben mumbled sheepishly. “You agree though?” “Yep” Joe nodded. “It’s kinda scary almost.” “We were wondering how that might have happened,” Gwilym explained, “but it’s probably just a coincidence.” “Probably” Ben agreed.

Suddenly Joe grinned deviously. “But that’s not as important as the fact that Ben is clearly into her.” “I am not!” Ben protested, but it was no use. “Oh, you are, you hardly looked anywhere else while she was here" Gwilym countered, grinning mischievously. "And you've been staring at her arse since she left the table.” Ben immediately blushed. "I was not" he grumbled. "He's blushing! Benny's got a cru-ush" Joe teased in a sing-song voice. Ben rolled his eyes. "Hypocrite. You cracked onto her the minute she sat down." Joe looked mildly wounded, but merely shrugged in response. "Well she is pretty, y'know." "Yeah, Ben knows" Gwilym quipped. Ben just groaned in frustration. But he couldn't help thinking Joe wasn't wrong. Not at all.

Lunch with Mel became a regular feature of Ben's day over the next few weeks. Their schedules didn't always match, but they managed to spend that break time together significantly more often than not. Ben was generally accompanied by the rest of "the band," as they called themselves, and sometimes Allen, but Rami and Lucy were usually absent owing to different schedules. Or so they claimed, anyway. Lucy appeared at the band's lunch table for the first time about a week after Mel's first lunch with them, and she took to Mel immediately. "It's so nice to have another woman to balance out this lot" she confided. But Rami didn't join them for over a fortnight, and his reaction was something Mel wouldn't forget in a hurry.

Rami's jaw dropped when he saw the dark-haired girl sat next to Ben. "Uhh… who is this?" Joe smirked. "Nice of you to finally join us for once." Rami rolled his eyes. "I've been busy, ok?" "Sure…" Joe teased. Ben cleared his throat. "Rami, this is Mel, from wardrobe. Mel this is-" She cut him off with a nudge of his shoulder. "I know who he is Ben, I do work here y'know." "Nice to meet you" Rami cut in. "By the way, has anyone ever told you look like Freddie Mercury?" Mel barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "A lot of people on this set have" she replied, trying not to sound too annoyed. "If you don't mind me asking, how do you do it?" Rami asked excitedly. Mel shrugged. "I don't really do anything. I suppose I'm just lucky." Rami chuckled quietly. "Very." 

Suddenly Mel stood up from the table. "This has been lovely as always, but I need to get back to work" she declared. "Rami it was lovely finally meeting you. I'll see you all tomorrow, gents." She left the table to a chorus of 'see you later's. As soon as she was out of earshot Rami turned to the others. "Is she… she must be related to Freddie, right?" he asked eagerly. "We don't know" Joe sighed. "It might just be a coincidence" Gwilym pointed out. Rami snorted. "No way. She's the spitting image, and she sounds like him? She has to be related, the question is how." Ben looked at Rami curiously. "Does she really sound like Freddie?" he asked wonderingly. "I hadn't noticed." Rami stared incredulously at the blond. "Are you deaf or something?" "No, he's just distracted cause he thinks she's hot" Joe quipped. Rami suddenly grinned mischievously. "Oh, so that's the girl he's crazy about" he teased. Ben groaned. "Aww, not you too." 

Rami's comment caused the others to tease Ben good-naturedly for the rest of the break, but his own mind was elsewhere. Mel's resemblance to Freddie was too strong to be a mere coincidence, he thought. It had to come from shared DNA. But most likely she was a distant cousin or something. She was much too young to have been his actual child, Freddie died before she was even thought of. Besides, even when he was alive Freddie never had kids, right?  

Rami initially dismissed the whole idea out of hand, but something about it nagged at him for the rest of the day. He was sure he'd read something that referred to Freddie and kids during his preparation for Bohemian Rhapsody, but he couldn't remember what or where he'd found it. It wasn't until he finally got back to the pile of research in his hotel room that night that he managed to dig up an answer.

A couple of articles published in the first months after Freddie died both said similar things. 'There are whispers Freddie even fathered a lovechild around the time Queen hit the peak of their fame, at the turn of the 80s, but this has never been proven.' 'Some rumours go as far as to suggest Freddie had a secret lovechild hidden away, the result of a drug-fuelled encounter during his partying years, but those now appear to be almost entirely unfounded.' Clearly no one really thought the rumours were anything more than old gossip back then. But what if they were actually true? That would mean… it would mean Freddie had a child, somewhere out in the world. Except Mel couldn't be that child, Rami thought, she was too young. But if Freddie's child was born in the late 70s, like the rumours said, they would have been old enough to have their own child by the time Mel was born 21 years ago. Rami gasped as a sudden realisation hit. If the rumours were true, and he was right about Mel being related to Freddie, that could mean Freddie Mercury's grandchild was working on the set of Bohemian Rhapsody.

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This is a bit different to what I’ve written previously, so please let me know what you think!

I’m going to use my old (it’s basically permanent now I guess) taglist for now, but let me know if you want to be added. Or if you want to be taken off for this story, that’s fine too, just drop me an ask or dm.

Taglist: @wandering-at-midnight @fruityfreddie @trumanjo @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark @itsametaphorbriansblog @theedwardscollection @bookish-oreo @simplyvictoria-93 @kotoamor @j1224 @closertothesunwhenimwithyou @florenceivy @jennyggggrrr  

(crossed out tags didn’t work, I’ll take them off next time if they still don’t work)

#ben hardy x oc #ben hardy imagine #queen fic #freddie mercury imagine #freddie mercury fic #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #joe mazzello imagine #rami malek imagine #gwilym lee imagine

[ladykateofledfordpark]

Not Mary Jane (Charlotte’s Diary)

This entry is inspired by Day 6 of the Choices August Challenge hosted by @cora-nova!

Dedicated to @mariaoz and @itsbrindleybinch , my wonderful Jaime-loving friends! =D

Tagging also the amazing @jlpplays1 @desiree-0816 @lady-kato @a-i-n-a-a-s-h and @flyawayboo ! Thank you for all your support! =D

Day 6 Prompt: Hippie

Pairing: Jaime x MC (Charlotte)

Summary: The Halloween party fails spectacularly for Charlotte.

Note: This takes place after Fiona’s party, an important moment in the story. I’ll hopefully upload that entry soon, but as you read this just know that Jason is a nice guy Charlotte met there.

Unedited.

--------

10.31..2011

Dear Diary,

Only a few hours ago, Halloween was here. Dawn and I already bought everything we needed for the party, and Shane and Jaime agreed to meet us at my house. The party was bound to be somewhat interesting, considering that only a month ago I went on my first date with Jason. So far everything was going smoothly, and I really hoped tonight wouldn’t be the night everything gets ruined.

“Look at me!” Dawn smirked. She turned around, her blue dress shining more than anything else in the whole room. It was too much. 

I winced and shifted my gaze, wondering how Shane would be able to bear this walking glowstick as his friend-date. “You’re too sparkly. Change the dress.”

Dawn turned back to the mirror, gazing thoughtfully at her reflection. “Well, I like it. It does scream popstar, doesn’t it?”

I shook my head. “You’re cruel.”

Dawn turned to me. She raised a brow at my ginger wig and simple clothes. “You’re really going to wear this?”

I hesitantly touched my red hair. “I guess. Jason is a Spiderman fan, and we wanted to share a costume. There wasn’t much else to choose from, so I guess it’s this.”

She frowned. “Are you sure? You don’t even like superheros.”

“It’s okay,” I shrugged. “We watched this movie on our first date. The idea behind the costume is romantic.”

She sighed. “If you’re sure.”

Once we were sure everything was ready, we headed downstairs. After many minutes of boredom, there was a sudden knock on the door. Both Dawn and I hurried to the door, finding both of the boys standing at the entrance.

Dawn jumped on Shane, who hugged her back, chuckling. “You look great, Shane!”

He sighed and smiled sheepishly. “Thanks.”

I smiled at Shane’s simple costume. He wasn’t wearing much: jeans, a white t-shirt, a necklace of the ‘peace’ sign. It didn’t make him look like a model, but that’s how last-minute costumes worked.

I turned to Jaime, and blushed when I saw his outfit. He was almost the embodiment of Aladdin in his baggy pants and purple vest. Jaime’s mom always went all out every year, which was what gave us the option to dress up every year. Ever since we were kids we dressed up together, a different movie each year. When I was younger she worked on both costumes, but once I was older I worked on mine alone, and sometimes side by side with her. It may have been strange to other people, but Jaime’s mother was almost family, so it wasn’t all that embarrassing.

This was the first year Jaime and I didn’t match, and something about it broke my heart. It was basically tradition, and seeing the sudden change right in front of my eyes… well, it was disorienting. I guess this is another downside to puberty.

“Jaime… you look…”

“It’s fine, Char. You don’t need to say it.” He smiled weakly as he studied my outfit. Something shone behind his eyes, but it didn’t seem like glee. It was almost… sad.

“What’s wrong?” I found myself asking.

Jaime met my eyes. Once again I was struck by the wisdom in his eyes, one of the things I loved the most about him. “Are you sure you should go like this, Char? We could always wear last year’s costumes.”

I lowered my head. “I can’t. I promised Jason I’ll meet him like this.”

“Wearing a wig for a costume of something you don’t even like? Really, Char?”

I backed away. A strange fire lit inside me, and I didn’t try to hold it back. “What do you care, Jaime? You already showed how much you liked my hair.”

Don’t look at me like that, with your annoying empty pages. He did just raise his voice at me, okay?

Jaime swallowed. He clenched his fists and opened his mouth, but then turned away. “I’ll be in the car,” he declared before walking off. I watched, the same feeling still simmering inside of me, when Dawn turned to me. “Char, you took it too far.”

“Why? It’s the truth.”

“Can’t you see? Jaime just-” Dawn shook her head before taking hold of my arm. “Whatever, let’s go.”

I hated the way she took such a strong grip on me, but I reluctantly went with her and Shane to the car. Ever since Fiona’s party, Dawn and Jaime acted strange around each other. It was almost as if they now shared a secret about me, and I didn’t even know it.

Actually, that probably is the situation.

There was even more silence on the way there. Jaime talked a bit with Dawn and Shane, but the second Shane parked, he left the car. He did wait for the other two, but he wouldn’t even look at me.

It hurt. It really did, but I don’t need him. He’s just a boy.

I smiled when I saw Jason. He was dressed as the other half of me, a young and handsome Peter Parker. His outfit was just like in the movie I hardly remembered: just a normal attendant with a secret no-one knew.

In this case, the secret was his costume. Seriously, no one could tell what we dressed up as.

Not that he cared. And I didn’t either.

“Charlotte!” he called as he saw me. I ran to him, away from brooding Jaime and judgemental Dawn. Into his arms, into safety. He held me close as he gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “Let me show you off to a few of my friends.”

I forced a smile. “Okay.”

Jason wrapped his arm around my waist as he gently led me to a group of older guys. They were fairly friendly, which was more than good, considering none of my friends were. Maybe I could’ve exchanged this group for Jaime and the others. They’re not bad.

“Anyway, this is Mary Jane,” Jason said after a few short sentences. I nodded in confirmation, when I realized he didn’t use my name. Mary Jane?

“Nice to meet you, Mary Jane.” One of the guys smirked. He scanned me curiously before his smile grew. “Yup, you’re fairly similar to Spiderman’s Mary Jane. What a coincidence.”

My cheeks heated up. A strange mix of embarrassment and anger filled me. Why did I think this was a good idea?

“I’m not Mary Jane,” I denied, but the guys didn’t hear me. They were too busy laughing at the hilarious joke.

I forcefully tugged on Jason’s arm. At first he didn’t budge, but I wasn’t just going to stand here and wait for him. So finally, after a few more minutes of humiliation, we were gone.

I could finally breathed in relief. Well, those guys were jerks.

“Char, what’s wrong? You acted weird over there,” Jason uttered. 

I turned so I was facing him, trying to hold the powerful forces inside. “I am not Mary Jane. This is a costume, Jason. A costume.”

He grinned. “Hey, relax, Char. I was only kidding.”

I huffed. “Fine, but please… don’t do it again.”

“If you care so much, Char, I won’t. Ok?”

I clenched my teeth. “Of course, thank you.”

The next half hour was fine. Jason continued with his jokes, but now they weren’t targeted at me. Yes, I was still upset from earlier, but slowly I was starting to forget it ever happened. He meant it as a joke, after all.

At some point Jason left me to talk to another one of his friends, leaving me alone. I sighed and searched the room for any other familiar faces, and stopped when my gaze fell on Jaime.

By now my anger wasn’t completely gone, but I was still able to apologize. So I forced myself in his direction, trying to ignore the rapid beating of my heart. It would be okay. It would be okay.

Jaime stood on the side, talking to a girl I didn’t even know. She seemed cute and likable, but something about her rubbed me the wrong way.

I tried to catch Jaime’s attention, but he was too engrossed in the talk he had with the girl. I stood there, debating whether to persist, when a warm hand touched my back.

“Hey, I’m back.” Jason smiled. He moved so he was blocking my field of vision, so now I couldn’t see Jaime. I frowned as I tried to pass Jason, but he held onto me with persistence.

Reluctantly, I gave in. “What?”

Jason smiled. “Well, I was wondering if-”

Before he could finish the sentence, someone pushed me from behind. I fell sideways, and just as I was about to hit the floor Jason caught me.

The group of jerks from before started cheering, and soon enough people were applauding “the hero”. I was so stunned I just took it all in, but then one of his friends called out.

“And Peter Parker saves Mary Jane again!”

I fumed. Seriously? They push me when I’m right next to Jason, and suddenly I’m a damsel in distress?

I had enough. “Jason.”

He still smiled when he saw how angry I was. “Yes, Mary Jane?”

I tried not to explode, but I was burning inside. “Was this your plan?”

“It was just a joke, Char. Relax.” 

Jason moved to cup my face, but I moved his hand away. His smile wasn’t nearly as charming as it was the first time we met. “Pushing me is not a joke, Jason! You may want to seem like a hero, but I don’t need some superhero to save me! I can very well stand up for myself, and my feet can hold me perfectly fine when people aren’t pushing me to prove a point! So leave me alone!”

I turned my back to him as I walked away. I ignored all the stares on me and my strange costume as I rushed outside. I didn’t want to stay here one second longer than I had to. If that meant I would walk home, then so be it.

Hurried footsteps chased me. I turned toward the chaser, when I saw Jaime’s dark eyes. They weren’t cold, like before, but rather sweet and worried. “Hey, Char. Where are you going?”

“Home.”

Jaime bit his lip. He turned around, and I saw the girl from before waiting for him patiently. He was busy, even if he wanted to accompany me.

I watched him. His gaze shifted between the two of us, and when his eyes fell on me for the last time, I knew he decided.

“I’m coming with you.” He declared.

I gaped at him. “Are you sure?”

Jaime nodded. “Positive.”

And then we started walking. Jaime’s warmth was so comforting, almost like the warm blankets of my bed. It felt so good to just bask in him and forget about everything, as if this beautiful world included just us.

I’ll dream about that tonight. Tomorrow I’ll write the rest.

Sincerely,

Charlotte (NOT Mary Jane)

#choices #playchoices #Jaime x mc #Jaime lewis #choices stories you play #wishful thinking #choices wishful thinking #choices wt #wt #wt jaime #choices fanfiction #playchoices fanfiction #choices august challenge #Jaime lewis x mc #mc x jaime lewis #mc x jaime #charlotte's diary

[tommybaholland]

GRIND Part 7 | tom holland x reader

(these boys,,,,pic not mine)

Pairing: stripper!Tom x fem!Reader

Summary: the two stripper friends almost jeopardize the club....but you don’t get off so easy either

Word Count: 4.5K+

warning: this story will contain mature content such as language, drugs and sexy, smutty scenes. nsfw 18+ pls!!

Waking up the next morning, you felt horrible. Last night marked the worst argument you’ve ever had with your best friend.

You didn’t know if she still had that title after that fight. She’d just be your roommate, for now.

You couldn’t deny that she was way out of line when the conversation shifted to you and Tom, her viewed somewhat embellished.

It was just a platonic love.

You and Tom might have acted like more than friends that one night, but that was before you knew him. You were under the impression that it you would never see him again, and it would all be easily forgotten.

But the coincidence of Harrison meeting Tom the very next day….it hit you very hard just then. You would’ve never met Tom if Harrison hadn’t met him…

How would things have been different?

Still be dating Ryan, become closer with Haz, still be best friends with Viv?

But the stupid thing was….somehow you didn’t regret any of it.

Tom was a great friend...Harrison’s friend. But you needed to make amends with Harrison for you and Tom to continue being friends.

Right?

Finally getting out of bed, you sauntered out into the kitchen, hoping to actually get some food this time. Pouring yourself a bowl of milk and cereal, Harrison had emerged from his room, looking like he was ready to go to the beach. You kept your head down, unsure if you should start the conversation.

Luckily, you didn’t have to.

“For what it’s worth now….I’m sorry. I really didn’t want you to be upset, honestly.”

“Thanks, Haz. I really appreciate that. And I’m sorry, too,” you admitted.

He gave you a small smile before asking his question.

“How’re you and Viv?”

You shook your head. “Not good. At all.”

“What? How could it have possibly gotten any worse?” Harrison posed, chuckling slightly.

“It got...kinda personal last night. Stuff was said that you should never say to your best friend,” you explained vaguely.

“If she could just admit that she was wrong, I’d be fine with her. But she keeps trying to justify it and starting fights again.”

Harrison knew very well that girls can be nasty when they’re mad at their friends, especially their closest girlfriends.

“Maybe you should just, give it another day? But promise me you’ll try to talk to her later,” Harrison asked.

“I’ll be honest...I cannot live here if you two are trying to kill each other,” he joked.

“Ughh, okaaay,” you agreed.

Then Tom appeared out of nowhere, casually walking into the apartment, making you jump slightly.

“Ohmygod! How did you get in here?”

“Just walked in,” he shrugged. “Am I no longer welcome here?”

“No...but walk in that super quiet like that again and you might not be,” you teased.

“I’ll try my best, love,” he replied, chuckling slightly at your agitation.

“Where’re you two headed off to?”

“The beach,” Harrison answered. “Just to hang out, maybe walk the boardwalk. Do you wanna join?”

You hesitated, having just gotten out of bed and were planning on sulking the rest of the day.

“Aw, c’mon, y/n. It’ll take your mind off things!” Harrison encouraged.

You looked over to Tom, who was already looking at you, with his sunglasses tucked perfectly into those stupid curls of his.

“You do look a little pale,” he teased.

You sighed dramatically. “Lemme go change.”

The boys both cheered.

“Yay, this is going to be fun!”

You expected it to be a chill, carefree day with no stress….until Tom convinced you to go surfing with him.

After countless practicing sessions of standing up on the board, you were now in the water, your arms already growing tired from paddling out. You finally caught up to Tom, floating next to him as you straddled your board, waiting for anxiously for a wave to come in.

You pulled at the collar of the rash guard, feeling uncomfortable with the sun beating down onto the tight fabric.

“Do we have to be out so far?” you asked, looking back to the shore, which seemed like miles away.

“This is where all the waves are!” he replied, looking over to you, eyes squinting in the sun. “Are you nervous?”

“Little bit.”

Drowning seemed like an unfortunate way to go.

“You’re going to love it, don’t worry,” he reassured. The motion of the water picked up, cuing Tom to start swimming towards it.

“Here we go!”

You began to follow after him, trying to copy him as he dove under the wave to get to the next one. You popped back up to the surface, gasping as the saltwater stung on your cheeks.

Seeing something out of the corner of your eye, you turned to see Tom riding the top of the next wave, flipping off of his board into the water as he approached the end. You shook your head while smiling at his need to grab everyone’s attention.

“Okay, y/n. You get the next one!” he yelled over to you.

The movement of the water rose again, making a whooshing sound as another wave was beginning to form. It looked bigger from where your were sitting on top of your board, but you quickly turned around and began paddling away from it.

As you felt the wave began to pick you up, you stood up carefully, staying in a low position to keep your balance. The wave wasn’t that big at all once you were riding it.

You smiled as you stood on the board for a total of about five seconds before losing your balance from listening to Tom’s cheering, and the sloshing of water filled your ears.

You breached above the water again, rubbing your eyes as your elbows held onto your board. Tom’s voice rang into your ears again.

“That was pretty good, yeah?”

You nodded, baffled that you actually stood up. “That was fun.”

You smiled as he laughed, looking as cute as always with his wet hair covering part of his face. Ryan would’ve never tried this, even if he was being paid to do it.

But it was always a new experience with Tom.

You two decided to paddle back to shore, your head spinning from being in the water so long. You all relaxed on the beach, basking in the sun. You and Tom sat looking at ocean, while Harrison seemed to drift off, snoozing in the sand.

You took note of how close in proximity Tom’s towel was to yours.

“Feel like I haven’t seen you in a while, Tom,” you noted as you sat in the sand.

“It has been some time, hasn’t it?” He agreed. “Well, I’m glad to be spending time with you now, darling.”

He swung his around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side.

“Yeah, me too.”

“So how’re things with Ryan?” He asked.

“It’s good, actually,” you responded. “He’s been...doing better. I think you actually got through to him.”

Tom shrugged, removing his arm from around you. “Someone had to say it.”

You chuckled at his nonchalant response. “Well, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. Nice to see that you’re happier with him.”

Liar.

“I wanna keep hanging out with you, though.”

Did that really come out of your mouth? But then again, you really hadn’t spent much time with him since after Harrison’s birthday party.

“Don’t worry, love. I’ll still be around.”

You bit your lower lip, feeling the need to clarify.

“You don’t have to be friends with Ryan but….”

He turned his head towards you, sparkling brown eyes waiting for you to finish your sentence.

“I still wanna be friends with you.”

“And what does he say about that?” Tom asked, genuinely curious.

“Nothing,” you replied, your voice firm. “He doesn’t get a say anymore.”

Tom returned a small smile, you only hoped what you were saying would be true.

You spent the rest of the day on the boardwalk, walking around. You ate dinner at one of the restaurants along the strip. You enjoyed the best meal you’d had in a day or so, with good company by your side.

“I told you guys to wake me up!” Harrison exclaimed after complaining about having the worst sunburn on his back.

“We’ll get you some aloe, mate. You’ll be alright,” Tom reassured him. “Might hurt while you’re doing work at that sorority tonight.”

“Oh, fuck,” Haz swore. “Forgot about that.”

“Sounds like fun,” you chimed in, sipping the last of your beer.

“Oh, it’s loads of fun, love,” Tom replied sarcastically, before checking his watch. “We better get going if we’re gonna get there in time.”

The boys dropped you back off at the apartment, your first move being to take a shower. You took your time washing the sand and saltwater out of your hair, feeling good after spending the day with the guys.

Once you were showered and dressed in your comfiest lounge pants, you decided to watch something on TV. As you exited your room, you noticed that Viv’s door was shut and the light was one, meaning that she was home.

You let out a big sigh, knowing in the back of your mind that your promised Harrison you’d talk to her.

Exhaling through your nose, you slowly walked over to her door, and knocked.

-

The boys arrived at the sorority house, dressed in cop costumes and ready to entertain.

Well, Tom was ready. This job seemed to make Harrison more nervous than his first night performing.

“You’re gonna kill it, dude. Just…. do whatever you did to Viv,” Tom joked.

“Fuck off, Tom,” Harrison pushed his shoulder but laughed anyway.

Tom loved doing these types of jobs because it was the easiest way to make a ton of money in one night. Plus, it never hurt him to entertain young women and see them….praise him.

In the past, every time he was asked to do them, he was always paired with Alex, who has a very aggressive and obnoxious style of seducing the clients.

So he was glad that Harrison agreed to come along.

“We got a complaint of some under age drinking. Is everyone 21 here?” Tom questioned, in character as he walked into the house holding a flashlight.

The girls stood back as he walked into the living room, Harrison trailing behind.

Tom walked up to the closest girl who was standing in the middle of the room.

“Can you turn around for me, hands up?”

The girl smirked at his request and turned to face the mantle of the fireplace as Tom continued the act.

“You don’t have anything I can stick myself with do you?”

“No…”

Tom ripped off his tear-away pants as Harrison began to do the same, revealing their bare legs and thongs.

The girls collectively shrieked as they began to interact with their new house guests. Their boyfriends and male counterparts stood in the dining room, quietly fuming at the shift of attention to the male strippers. Seems they weren’t aware that there would be other entertainment at the party tonight.

Or maybe they did know, and didn’t have any say of objecting to it.

Tom and Harrison did their thing, stripping off the little remaining clothes before beginning their main specialty. They both picked some girls to start dancing and grinding on, while the others cheered and fawned over the treatment their friends were getting from the hot strippers.

Tom worked on his girl, dancing over her and letting her feel over his torso, running her hands up and down his abs. She tried to reach up to touch his face, but he took hold of her hands, opening one to place a pill in her palm.

He really didn’t want to do it, but he also didn’t want Alex up his ass anymore. Normally he wouldn’t care and would let Alex tell Ryan about everything, but seeing as you seemed happier with him, Tom didn’t want to be the one to screw that up.

Or at least, he didn’t want you to hate him forever.

He promised you he would forget, so this was what he felt he had to do to consider your best interest.

She put the pill in her mouth, no questions asked, and that was that.

The guys in the house continued to stay away from what was happening in the living room. Tom figured he was doing them a favor….or maybe not?

The party continued on and they tried to give every girl there a piece of the show, Tom giving a few more pills to various girls. One of the guys seemed to notice what Tom had been doing, and eventually decided to confront him.

“Hey, did you give my girl ecstasy?” He demanded, pulling on Tom’s shoulder.

Irritated by the entire situation of even having to deal the pills, he muttered back curtly,

“No,” before turning back to the girl he was currently with.  

What he didn’t know, was that this guy was looking to fight. Seconds later he felt glass smash over his head, and a crash sound followed shortly after as Harrison tackled him into the wall. The other guys from the group joined in, trying to pull Harrison off the first guy but Tom unloaded a few punches on them.

The girls screamed and moved out of the way, except for the few that were high off the pills Tom gave them, and sat on the couch, looking mesmerized by the whole thing.

Once Tom felt they had fought enough of them off, he knew they had to get out of there. He grabbed Harrison as quick as he could, pulling him away from the fight.

“Dude, c’mon let’s go!”

He raced towards the back of the house, grabbing what he could of his belongings along the way. Harrison dragged behind him, and they escaped out the back door in the kitchen. They kept up their pace as they ran back to the car, barely clothed and hoping not to run into the real police on the drive out.

Once in the car, Tom sped away from the house, his heart racing and adrenaline pumping. He could hear Harrison panting beside him, spitting out his question in between breaths.

“What the fuck was that?!”

Tom clenched his jaw, seething that he couldn’t tell him the truth.

“They were just being dickheads.”

“Well, they shouldn’t have come if they knew we were gonna be there,” Harrison commented.

“Jesus…. what idiots,” Tom chuckled.

“At least we got out of there—” Tom’s eyes widened as he realized something.

“—fuck, I forgot my bag—”

“—Don’t worry, dude. Got it here,” Harrison replied, holding it up as Tom exhaled, relieved.

“You got any extra clothes in here?” Harrison asked, beginning to search through Tom’s stuff.

“You didn’t bring any? What, did you think you were going to put the costume back on?” Tom teased, laughing at Harrison’s naiveté with private strip shows.

“No, I—uh...Tom….what are these?”

Tom looked over quickly to see the the bag of pills that Harrison was holding with a puzzled look on his face.

“Uhh...drugs.”

“Well, no shit! I mean, why do you have them? You’re not—”

“No, I’m not using them,” Tom clarified. “I can’t really talk about it right now.”

“You might as well just tell me, I’ve already seen them so,” Harrison pressed.

Tom hesitated, considering the consequences of letting Harrison know what he was up to.

“Fuck,” he swore. “Okay... but you can’t say anything to anyone, yeah?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

Tom took a deep breath before starting at the very beginning.

“I’ve never told you this but...I kinda knew y/n before you and I met,” Tom paused but Harrison stayed quiet, silently urging him to continue.

“She and Viv came to the club one night, the day before I met you. And while I was performing, I…. kissed her. I just...couldn’t help it and she didn’t seem to want me to stop and then when you ended up being her roommate…”

Tom trailed off, chuckling at the memory of officially meeting you.

“Dunno, man. It was like...a sign.”

“Okay sooo what does this have to do with the drugs in your bag?” Harrison chimed in, getting Tom back on track.

“Right, so anyway, she never told Ryan about it and I promised her that I would just forget about it all together—”

“—Seems like you’ve done a real good job of that.”

“—Do you want me to fucking tell you or not?” Tom chastised, wanting to get through his explanation without unhelpful comments from his friend.

“So Alex knows about all of it and decided to rope me into this scheme which involves him threatening to tell Ryan about everything unless I sell these pills for him.”

“Wow…” Harrison reacted. “That’s some shit. So have you been doing it or are you gonna call his bluff?”

“I mean, I fucking said no and could give two shits about his little attempt to blackmail me but....she’s back with him, dude,” Tom elaborated.

Harrison nodded, understanding that no one likes Ryan, but no one wants ruin your bliss either.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What, about this?” Tom asked, referring to his current situation.

“No, no. About you and y/n,” Harrison clarified.

Tom pondered his question for a moment, trying not to make it sound like he had seriously violated guy code or whatever.

“When I met you, it didn’t seem like that big of a deal. I thought I was never gonna see her again but then...you happened to be her new roommate and she has this twat boyfriend…” He trailed off, trying to summarize his thoughts.

“It just wasn’t my secret to tell, really,” he concluded.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Harrison nodded. “I had a feeling you had a soft spot for her, though.”

“....Dunno what you’re talking about mate,” Tom deflected, unable to hold back a smile.

“Oh, c’mon! You’ve been flirting with her the second you met — er, at least, when I introduced you,” Harrison explained.

“Okay, okay...I confess! But you can’t say anything to her,” Tom warned.

“I won’t. Pretty sure Viv knows, though.”

Tom smiles. “Yeah and to think that would’ve never happened if Viv hadn’t brought her there. Really have to thank her for that one”

Harrison scrunches up his face as he chuckled, confused by Tom’s connotation. “So...is that good or bad?”

Tom allows a soft chuckle to pass his lips. “Is it too self-indulging and wrong to say I don’t regret it?”

“No, it was definitely a horrible risk,” Harrison joked. “But at least we can cover it easily.”

“Have to say though, don’t think Viv will be frequenting that place anymore,” Harrison admitted while laughing.

Tom laughed along with him, enjoying the moment.

“M glad I met you, Haz. You’ve been good company through all this bullshit….and also I would’ve never officially met y/n if you weren’t friends with her first so thank for that,” Tom rambled out as Harrison kept laughing, letting him have that satisfaction.

“Aww, I’m glad I met you, too,” Harrison agreed,

After stopping by Tom’s place to change out of their thongs and into real clothes, they arrived back at the club. Tom would rather hear it from Dan now than later.

“You guys didn’t collect, at all?” Dan questioned the two.

“I’m sorry, did you not just hear what I just said?” Tom quipped.

“What I heard was, you guys didn’t do the job.”

“Well, we were a little busy fighting off frat boys who wouldn’t let us do the job. We could’ve gotten seriously hurt, dude!” Tom emphasized.

Harrison stood behind Tom, staying quiet as his brunette friend continued arguing with Dan.

“When are we gonna get some protection for doing this shit, man?”

“Do I look like a fucking psychic to you, Tom? How am I supposed to know if there’s going to be a potential threat?” Dan was beginning to become more hostile.

“I dunno, do like a background check or something! We can’t keep doing this if there’s a chance we’re killed or arrested—”

“Listen,” Dan threatened. “I’m not gonna let you jeopardize this club or my name. You’re never going to get what you want playing with fire...especially with me. You’re not gonna take away what I’ve built but you can be damn sure you’ll be the one to suffer.”

What else is new?

“Now, you can make it up to me by coming up with some fresher shit, or you can forget about equity,” Dan shrugged, finally done his rant.

Tom clenched his jaw, thinking about how necessary it was to get personal in this conversation. He turned and gestured for Harrison to follow, storming out of the club. He wanted to get the fuck out of there; this didn’t seem worth it to him anymore.

They got back into the car but Tom just sat there, staring blankly ahead of him before Harrison finally spoke up.

“I’m sorry, dude. I didn’t really know what to say back there,” he apologized, feeling guilty for not sticking up for his friend.

“Nah, s’okay, mate. Didn’t expect you to get involved anyway.”

“...Tom?”

He was met by those piercing blue eyes, which looked as if they glowed under the dim lighting.  

“I want you to know that... whatever he’s planning, I wanna stick by you. If you leave, I’ll go too,” Harrison announced.

“You don’t have to do that—”

“No, I want to. I came in with you….so I wanna leave with you, too.”

Just when Tom thought everyone was against him, Harrison seemed to always come through to stand by him. In the end, only Harrison would truly understand all the shit that goes on in Tom’s life.

And that was good enough for Tom.

“Thanks, H.”

-

The boys drove back to the apartment, Harrison convincing Tom to come in with him, in an attempt to get his mind off of Daniel.

You were sitting on the couch as the entered watching something on TV, which was odd as you were normally in bed by now. Harrison took note that you were sitting by yourself, Viv nowhere to be seen.

“You’re up late,” Harrison commented.

“Waiting for Ryan to get here,” you explained.

“Is Viv home?”

You attention shifted to Harrison. “She’s in her room.”

“Have you talked to her since you’ve been home?”

“She won’t open the door,” you answered, keeping your replies short and down to a few words.

Tom sat down in the armchair near the couch as Harrison went down the hall, presumably to go talk to Viv. You glanced over to see his long face, cheek propped up against his fist. He looked exhausted and worn out, contrasting with how you’d seen him earlier that day at the beach.

You vaguely remember seeing him like this before, all slumped over and tired eyes. You knew quite a bit about Tom, but you could only guess what was bothering him.

“Rough night?” you spoke, your voice quiet.

His ears perked up at the sound of your voice, his head turning to look over to you.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Seem to have a streak going.”

“Makes two of us, then,” you sympathized. “What’s been going on?”

You wanted to be there for him, you couldn’t count on your fingers how many times he’s done it for you at this point.

Tom hesitated, trying to figure out what to say. He knew he couldn’t say everything; most of it had to do with you and if it didn’t have to do with you, it involved you.

He opened his mouth to speak—

“She said she’ll come out soon,” Harrison announced, coming back into the living room. “You guys are gonna resolve this so we can all be happy friends again,” he proclaimed in a sing-song voice.

“Do we have to do it in front of you guys? Tom looks like he’s had a rough night and Ryan’s going to be here soon and I’m going to bed when he shows up,” you defended, making up several excuses.

“You said you would, y/n,” Harrison reminded you.

You sighed, knowing he was right.

“....okay,” you finally agreed.

Truth be told, you were done fighting with her. You missed having her around and you couldn’t be hanging out with males all the time. You needed a girlfriend to survive.

With those thoughts in mind, you were prepared to be the one to apologize.

“Can we watch something while we wait?” You offered.

“Yeah, sure. Not The Office, though. Kinda sick of that right now,” Haz admitted.

“What? You haven’t even seen all of it!”

“I know but, let’s take a break from that. We could watch that new thing you’ve been talking about? Bander-something?”

“Bandersnatch?” You corrected. “Yes! That’ll be so fun, you guys are gonna love it!”

“You’ve already seen it though?” Tom chimed in.

“I don’t mind watching it again. I wanna watch you guys play, also Fionn Whitehead is super cute, alsoooo I don’t think I’ve gotten to all the endings,” you rambled out all your reasons.

“Jesus, how many are there?” Harrison asked.

“Not sure. Maybe infinite…” you trailed off dramatically.

The boys laughed, intrigued enough to finally agree. You clicked on the movie, the Netflix logo appearing on the screen.

As you got up off the couch to get some drinks, the front door opened, revealing Ryan.

“Hey, babe,” you greeted him, going over to give him a quick kiss and locking the front door so people (including Tom) couldn’t get in.

You continued to make your way into the kitchen to grab two beers for the boys and some water for yourself. Ryan trailed behind you, not stopping to acknowledge Tom or Harrison at all.

You realized this was the first time Tom and Ryan have been in the same room together since….a while ago. You weren’t sure how this was gonna pan out, as there was already a lot of unsolved tension in house with you and Viv.

“Do you want something to drink?” You offered him while moving about the kitchen.

“Thought we were going to bed.”

“Uhm, you can, if you want. We’re just starting watching Bandersnatch—”

“What cereal do we choose, y/n?” Tom hollered from the living room.

“I’m not telling, you guys have to decide!” You replied.

You smirked as you heard them talk amongst themselves, listening to them obsess over the first choice they had to make.

“Why does it matter what cereal he eats?” Tom questioned.

“This is so stressful already,” Harrison noted.

“Just pick one dude—”

You turned back to Ryan, who got in front of your view of the living room, hopping up onto the counter.

“You should watch with us,” You pressed, wanting him to get used to spending time with the guys.

He looked at you, his expression unreadable, before holding his arms out to you.

“C’mere.”

You stopped what you were doing and sauntered over to where he sat on the counter, standing in between his legs.

“What?” You looked at at him, placing your hands on his knees.

He brought his hands up to cup your face, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Can we please go to bed?” He asked again, his voice softer this time.

You lowered your voice to match his volume as you answered. “You don’t….wanna watch the movie with us?”

He leaned closer, placing his lips over yours, bringing them into a sweet kiss. You moaned lowly at the gesture. Ryan was never the affectionate, calculated type. He could be overbearing and assertive with you sometimes, but this was gentle and sweet.

You pulled away from him slowly, breathing out as you spoke.

“Mmm, where’d you learn that one?”

He kept his face close to yours and his voice low. “You know this one, babe.”

“What? You’ve never done this to me before…..but I like it,” you purred.

Ryan chuckled, but it came out as more of a scoff.

“I’m just….taking after Tom and….

...doing what he did to you on your birthday.”

Your eyes widened upon hearing his words as fear struck your heart, and before you knew it, you were pressed up against the wall with a hand over your mouth.

-

A/N: thanks for coming to my shameless plug of Bandersnatch and projection of my new found hyper-fixation for fionn lol anyway wow...lotta shit going down....first of all... how tf did Ryan find out?? what’s gonna happen to the reader and how is it going to affect her current relationships with tom, haz, and viv?? really interested to know what you guys think about this part!!

also!! the ffh trailer?? what did you guys think ??

all the love and drink your respect tom holland juice 🍹

part 8...will it great?? (feedback much appreciated)

masterlist 🌺

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[calvin-af-crone]

Giant Deconstructed

This video is quite simply an artistic masterpiece on multiple levels. If you haven’t yet, I urge you to view the video in expanded view on a big monitor to get the full effect. Most viewers immediately feel emotionally affected & recognize its greatness w/o understanding why or how they’ve been affected. Allow me to break it down for you. Understanding how Emil Nava’s magic tricks are done should heighten instead of diminishing your appreciation.  

On a meta-narrative level, the story being illustrated is a classic Hero’s Journey. A boy suffers despair over his sickly mother. A mysterious deity summons him into a magical realm. By determination & perseverance, he confronts his personal deity & receives spiritual wisdom. Then by the power of music & dance, he attains his inner strength. This is essentially the narrative told by the lyrics of the song & the music builds to a emotional peak before shifting into a potent primitive chant ending w/ triumphant affirmations.

One of Nava’s favorite visual tricks is subliminal messaging. These visual affects flash an image at the viewer so quickly the effect of the image slips beneath conscious awareness & triggers a subconscious emotional response or unconscious reflex. Diabolical subliminals last less than a fraction of a second. The viewer is entirely unaware of receiving them & these can be regarded as an attempt at mind control. Putting them in commercials is actually illegal. 

Nava’s subliminals last almost a full second. You do see them but aren’t given enough time to consciously figure out what you’ve seen. However, your subconscious definitely does see the content of the image & responds emotionally. Sometimes, he aims deeper & sets off an unconscious instinctive reflex. All of these flash edits are benignly intended to heighten your experience during the video & subtly manipulate your emotions. On a practical level, the feeling that you’ve missed something tends to generate a million views in a day. 

Nava also heavily uses symbolism to sneak resonant ideas into your viewing experience. I’ll deal w/ examples as they arise in the breakdown. But, let’s start w/ the surface imagery & what it shows our consciously aware minds. Nava quickly establishes a real life scenario that most viewers immediately understand. A boy living w/ his dysfunctional mother suffers the burden of responsibility all children feel for a sickly parent. He’s going thru his ordinary life carrying a weight of despair. The scenes are cast in shrouded dismal tones of blue & gray like the boy’s outlook on life. He’s even dressed in blue—a color symbolically associated w/ sadness.

Then we’re only 9 seconds into the video when Nava hits us w/ a what-the-fuck-was-that flash of red expertly timed to hit simultaneously w/ the strike of a sharply high-pitched chord. That timing is another layer of perfection thru-out this short film. Every action is synchronized like in a ballet to land w/ the beat, flow on the bass line, or enforce primary chords in the music. 

I had to adjust the brightness of the image to identify feet dancing in mud puddles. Red symbolizes passion & energy. Consciously, we see the red flash as a burst of energy & hope. Unconsciously, we’re getting a flash forward & are being prepared for Dance Music to literally change the boy’s life.

The next red flash forward hits at the 0:25 mark, shows rave dancers, & lasts long enough to actually be perceived unless you blink & miss it. 

On the surface, we see the boy looking at a photograph of a plant & that’s overt foreshadowing. Then at 0:33 thru 0:37, we’re hit w/ a major scene shift at the very moment Rag’n’BoneMan first declares, “I am a giant!”

In sharp contrast to the boy’s life, we’re transported to an idyllic lake in a misty forest & see a figure dressed in sun yellow standing in a boat. Bright pure yellow symbolizes the sun. Consciously you think “oh, there’s Calvin”. Subconsiocusly you recognize a solar deity. This scene shift establishes an alternate location in the narrative.

Then we’re back to scenes of the boy’s dismal & at 0:43, we’re back at the lake & stay for an 2 entire seconds, long enough to watch birds flying from left to right over the left shoulder of the figure in yellow. 

Back w/ the boy, we see more scenes of his unhappiness & note his mother’s problem is drug addiction or she’s chronically ill & requires medication. He is shown sitting morosely on the back of a park bench & Nava pulls off a lovely example of symbolic visual echoing. The birds that flew in the scene at the lake seem to arrive from left to right over the left shoulder of the boy & land in front of him. You can see this clearly in the video but its impossible to see in this still.

Go watch the video again because one second after being visited by the birds at 0:51, the boy is motivated to move w/ a sense of purpose. We get quick scenes from home w/ his mother now bathed in a warm, hopeful glow interspersed w/ action scenes as he goes thru a gate & starts running. His face shows determination. He is not running away from his problems. He is running towards... something. Just when we start to wonder, “where’s he going,” the scenes quickly cut back & forth between the man in the boat & the boy’s effort.

From 1:17 thru 1:21, there’s a scene at the lake that made me bark out a laugh the first time I saw it. Up until this moment the narrative has been rooted in reality. Now it’s surreal! If you missed the clue of the birds being sent to summon the boy, if you thought the man in the boat was only DJ Calvin Harris, this scene ought to startle you. Fish leap out of the lake in response to a god of Nature!

At 1:21 thru 1:28, the camera pans over & into a forest. We see a doe lift her head at a sound & the boy is seen running as fast as he can into a misty magical realm. There is nothing real about this! The boy could not have run far enough to leave a city & enter a real forest. It’s physically impossible, even for someone in good shape, to continue running a peak speed for miles.

Again the narrative shifts back & forth between the god & the running boy. The god takes off his yellow jacket to dig up a potato. The boy keeps running. The god is gathering herbs & mushrooms, suddenly dressed like Prince Harry on a Nature ramble. What could be more magical than that? LOL! During the video, the unidentified deity goes thru five elegant costume changes. He’s not some hobo in the woods or a wild nature god like Pan. He looks like a British lord...

At 1:44, we are confronted by five riders on horseback coming straight at us & most viewers will feel deep emotion in response, maybe even a tiny surge of fear. Let’s pause for a moment to consider Nava’s peculiar affection for images of riders on horseback. He drops these symbols w/o any logical reason into videos every chance he gets to give viewers a cheap surge of vicarious exhilaration. Symbolically, seeing a person riding a galloping horse represents Power & Freedom. It is both a symbol of the human will triumphing over Nature & conversely the union of a horse & rider represent harmony with Nature.  

In the same way no one taught you to leap away from the sound of a hissing snake, you have an instinctive reflex to seeing riders on horseback, especially if they are riding towards you. Aboriginal humans reverently made cave paintings of horses 25,000 years ago. Deeper than cultural symbolism, our response to riders on horseback is hardwired into our brains. This time—bless his heart—Nava staged a video that uses horseback riders for maximum effect to whip up anxiety & awe along w/ the music’s turbulence.

I probably don’t need to explain the symbolism of the riders wearing exercise togs exactly like the boy’s, except in red. Blue symbolizes water & sadness. Red is the color of fire & energy. These are the minions of the solar deity, elemental spirits like flames in the mist, & they come galloping like an opposing army. But we only have a few seconds of dread before we glimpse a rider in the mists going in the same direction as the running boy. In later scenes, it becomes clearer they are escorting or herding him towards his destination. 

After these quick action cuts, at 1:53 we arrive at a static scene.

Your subconscious mind is fully capable of counting 12 passive creatures dressed in red & realizes the magical significance of the boy in blue adding up to 13 pairs of sneakers on the ground. 

From 1:59 to 2:04, we are reminded of where the boy came from & at 2:05 we are reminded of his destination—the elegantly dressed deity. There are more frantic scenes of riders and the running boy between scenes from home, now glowing w/ yellow light then red-lit as the boy dances in his room. Did the kid even leave home? Is he tripping out in his room? Does it matter? I say it doesn’t because the effect on him will be the same.

There are more quick cuts between galloping & running interspersed w/ scenes starting at 2:28 of the deity by a campfire in the forest, preparing a feast for his guest. At 2:39, the five riders come out of the mists directly at us triggers another surge of dread. Supernatural pairs of eyes glow in the darkness behind them. This ominous visual moment is perfectly timed to coincide w/ the music shifting into a guttural tribal chant. The first time I heard the song I thought this part of it sounded like a primitive pagan ritual & the lyric was an incantation to disperse negativity.

Apparently the song gave Nava the same visual because here we are at 2:46 w/ the boy in a forest clearing in the dark of night w/ red-clad nature devas standing like flames. The five riders might represent the five sacred elements—earth, water, fire, air, & spirit. Over all this imagery, the music spins a potent magical spell. Rag‘n’BoneMan stands at the center of a circle of hay bales looking like a modern day skinhead shaman. Lightning flashes in the sky like supernatural energies are being aroused. At 2:49 for less than a second, an owl—symbol of wisdom—is shown on a tree branch. The horseback riders start circling the boy & fire spirits where they stand immobile. 

For one second at 2:53, we get a subliminal of the deity—now wearing a garment stripped in blue, red & the purple of royalty—standing still beside a black stallion. Then for less than a second a red-hooded skull-like face impacts our subconsciousness before the boy stomps his foot on the ground at 2:55 when the compulsion to dance overcomes him. 

To leaven the tension, Nava unfurls a Scottish flag for amusement as the boy’s dancing becomes positively demon-possessed. One second, he’s in the circle at night, the next second he’s in his room at home, & the next, he’s dancing in the day-lit forest. The imagery flows on w/ exhilarating & dizzying speed. 

After another rabble-rousing wave of the Scottish flag, the action freezes at 3:11 in a tension-inducing static shot—the boy in blue faces off a girl in red w/ her cohort standing by & it’s raining! Emotion is literally drenching the scene! A subliminal of the boy’s mother & her medications flashes by then one second each of the boy looking thru flames & the deity solemnly regarding him. These two moments symbolize the transfer of power from the god to the boy.

It’s a relief when everyone starts dancing in the rain and stomping in mud puddles at 3:19. There are more quick cuts back & forth to the boy dancing in his room, the stand off w/ the girl as a lightning flash divides the sky, & the rave in full revel. A subliminal second of the boy & girl standing closer then another of him dancing in his room.

And we are suddenly transported back to the scene of the deity standing beside his horse for a full 2 seconds to absorb the fact that a light snow is falling. The god exists apart from the rave. The imagery cuts back to dancing bodies & horses rearing then the boy stands alone for a second at 3:37 in falling snow & this subliminally puts him on the same plane of existence as the deity. After another couple seconds of rave dancing, we get slightly over a second at 3:40 to fully absorb snow falling on the diety & his horse w/ a halo symbolizing divinity behind them. 

The video concludes w/ 2 seconds of the boy facing the girl in the rain, one solid shot of Rag’n’BoneMan’s face w/ snowfall & then a bright flash of green light!

Thru-out the video, we’ve seen scenes tinted blue, yellow, & red but this is the only shot of bright green & it’s flashed at the viewer like a piecing ray. Green symbolizes the Earth, growth, & as the mid-point in the color spectrum it represents balance. Green is also the color of the metaphysical Healing Ray of Light. And that’s what it represents in the context of this narrative. Summoned & guided by a deity, empowered by the magic of music & dance, our boy hero has been healed of his malaise. In the last moments, we see him standing alone, strong & resolute, looking up in wonder as snowflakes drift down upon him. This is a lovely conclusion to the tale.