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brainwasheddd · 1 year

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New to New York

warnings: hospital (ish), mention of flashbacks and panic attacks, this bitch got trauma for days, but i promise this one’s not too angsty. also a lot of cursing

A/N: this is mostly to introduce the character and how he got to the tower and it has a lot of loose ends. there’s gonna hopefully be multiple parts if people like this. Also! I know a lot of this isn’t exactly how ASL works, and definitely isn’t how you write it out (trust me, i know sign pretty damn well) but for reasons of Plot Development™ just ignore that- also also i know this is a long ass author’s note but i did not do a bunch of editting because we die like men (/j) so i’m sorry that this isn’t my best work like,, at all. I was just really excited to post it. excuse the shitty title we all know i suck at naming shit

tags: @love-pyramus @simonrriley @cchloeprice @goddess-of-night @yourknightinshiningplastic @himbos-hotline @christian-sings-the-eulogy @marstonjohn (ask to be added/removed!) ((also you motherfuckers keep changing your names (/lh) so sorry if you weren’t tagged correctly))

Word Count: 2,748

reblogs are very much appreciated

Andrew woke up in a hospital room. And, of course, momentarily freaked the fuck out.

Okay, what the fuck. What the fuck. Where was he, why was he, what happened? The first thing he registered was a dull pain in his leg. He flipped the blankets to find it in a cast. He took a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. Okay, fuck. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Okay. He was okay.

What. Happened.

The door to his room opened and oh my god that’s what happened. Tony Stark, the Tony Stark, walked in, and the memories flooded back to him. Flying to New York. The new job. Overhearing something. Then the fight downtown. He shook his head. What time was it? All of that didn’t take more than 24 hours, but who knows how long he was asleep. God, today has been the longest year of my life.

Stark was saying something. His lips were moving at least, but nothing was coming out of them. Andrew just stared at him confused. He reached up to his hearing aid, trying to turn the dial. It was stuck. Shit.

Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but a familiar feeling came up instead. Like his words were a sticky syrup that had been put in the freezer and was now stuck, a sludge in his mind, unable to escape. Double shit.

“Do you know ASL,” he signed. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He hated this.

Stark held up a finger and exited the room. He came back with another man, one Andrew seen at the fight but hadn’t a clue who he was.

“Hey. My name’s Clint. I work with Tony. I’m gonna translate for him, okay?”

Andrew just nodded. He looked up at Mr. Stark. He looked angry. Andrew didn’t like that. Cold. He had to put up a defense. Unfortunately for the men trying to get some answers from him, that defense always involved deflection. And heavy sarcasm.

Mr. Stark started saying something. Andrew paid heavy attention to his body language. Yeah. Definitely angry. Probably at him. He looked back at Mr. Clint.

“Translation: Can someone tell me why this child who apparently forged documents to become a Stark Industries employee ended up fighting with the avengers today?”

“Not a child.” Andrew signed back.

Mr. Stark just rolled his eyes before saying something else. Mr. Clint said something back to him. Andrew wished to himself that he knew how to read lips. Before he could ask Mr. Clint to tell him what was happening,Tony was storming out.

“Sorry, he’s stressed out. Our teammate got hurt on the mission and he had to deal with a slight” he hesitated before continuing to sign. “Hiccup relating to work.”

Andrew took it he was the hiccup.

“Let’s start over. Are you hearing or deaf?”

“Depends.” Not a lie.

Mr. Clint gave him a pointed look. “Can you talk at all?”

God this conversation was draining. “No talk,” he signed simply. Those were the first two words he learned in ASL, actually.

“You fought damn well today. Seemed like you had some sort of fire weapon on you. Wanna explain that?”

Andrew answered simply by raising his middle finger and doing his favorite party trick. Fire came out of the top of his finger like it was a candle. Andrew kept a straight face, secretly relishing in the man’s baffled look.

“Okay. So not a weapon, you can just do that. How?”

“I don’t know, must be magic,” Andrew signed back sarcastically.

“Got it.” He replied, exasperated. “So why are you here? Tony says you came from another state. Family troubles?”

No no no no no. Andrew shut his eyes. No. He couldn’t flash back now. He took a breath. Okay. 5432154321 54321 5 4 3 2 1. Okay. No. “No.”

“Don’t want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“…”

“Can you go?”

So Clint left. In the hallway, Stark was pacing impatiently. “What did he say?”

“Not much. He’s a sarcastic little shit, and he kinda shut down. I think he’s just scared.”

“I didn’t know you can be sarcastic in sign.”

“Have you seen me and Parker talk?” Clint retorted. Then something lit up. Maybe that would work. Peter was pretty fluent in ASL, and he and the mystery boy were about the same age. Maybe he’d be more willing to open up then. “Speaking of Peter, when does he get off school?”

***

The next time Andrew woke up, there was a boy sitting criss cross in the chair beside him. He had curly brown hair and deep brown eyes with a light sprinkling of freckles. If nothing good comes out of this, at least I get to wake up next to a random attractive guy. Even if that guy tries to murder me.

“Hi.” the boy signed.

“Hi.” Andrew signed back.

“My names Peter. Peter Parker. Also I’m spiderman.”

“Why would you tell me that? Isn’t it secret?”

Peter looked nervous. “Yes, but I figured if I want you to be honest with me, I should be honest with you.” Oh, Andrew thought. So it’s just another trap to get me to talk

No. Stop. He was having those thoughts again. He was refusing to trust someone over nothing. Okay: logic. Avengers are the good guys. Spiderman is a good guy. And he was getting a good sense from him; warm. They weren’t Hydra. They weren’t out to get him. And so long as he didn’t mention CPS or anything of the sort, he should be fine to talk to the guy.

“Hey, are you okay?” Peter signed quickly. Andrew blinked. How long had he been zoned out?

“Fine. Tired.”

Peter didn’t look like he believed him, but he moved on anyway. “What’s your name?”

Andrew took a breath before he signed back. “Andrew Aguilar.”

The corner of Peter’s mouth turned up. It was kind of cute. “I like it. It has alliteration, like mine.”

“Assonance” Andrew corrected.

Peter looked confused for a minute. “You’re such a nerd,” he signed back.

Andrew smiled. His judgement was right; it seems Peter could be trusted. He was funny, at least.

“So, why are you here?”

Maybe not. Andrews face fell back to the glare it was at before. Peter quickly corrected himself.

“You don’t need to give all the details if you don’t want. But I’m curious. Mr. Stark said you fought with the team downtown, is that true?”

Andrew nodded.

“So you have powers?”

Instead of responding, Andrew motioned for Peter to give him his hand. Peter obliged, but in a split second pulled away, his mouth moving in what Andrew assumed was an “ow.”

Once Peter recovered from the burn (that was being dramatic, Andrew had made sure not to hurt him badly. He barely got to the temperature of a ceramic mug filled with tea, it was more the shock than anything), Peter started signing fast.

“That’s amazing. I mean, that was what, half a second and already that hot? Imagine how hot you can make it with more contact- how does your body put up with it? You must be enhanced in some way, too, like, can you get burned? Do you have thicker skin? How-“

Andrew waved his hand in front of him to grab his attention. “Slow down. And you call me a nerd.”

“Sorry. It’s just cool, seeing another person like me.” Andrew raised an eyebrow. “I mean enhanced. Like, I’m Spiderman, right? So besides being awesome, it comes with all these side things, and some of them are cool and helpful, and some of them are just weird. Like I stick to things so I can climb, but sometimes, when I’m tired I can’t shut it off, and I end up ripping pages out of books.”

Andrew nodded. He understood that. That’s why he created the hearing aids, after all. So when he was tired (or throughout the day, to conserve energy), he could block out the sounds he didn’t want to hear, but his stupid ears picked up anyway.

“Sorry I’m rambling.” Andrew shook his head as if to say it’s fine. “So, Mr. Aguilar, where are you from?”

“Arizona,” he signed.

“Woah,” Peter signed back. “That’s far. I’ve barely been outside the city a few times, never outside the state except to visit my boyfriend’s family in Tennessee one year.”

Boyfriend. Oh. Andrew felt his shoulders fall slightly, but he quickly tried to hide it. “Yeah. It’s pretty boring there. Hot. More hot. Pretty much it.”

“You have the Grand Canyon!” Peter tried and failed to sign grand canyon without finger spelling, instead saying ‘really big valley.’ Admittedly, a good chunk of the state was a really big valley, just not the one Peter was trying to reference.

Andrew suppressed a laugh and shrugged. “Never been.”

“Really?” Andrew nodded. “So what made you come all this way?”

“I got a job at Stark Industries as a chemist. Figured not needing a bunson burner was a plus.”

Peter frowned. “You’re like 16.”

“17,” Andrew corrected. “I may have forged a few documents.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. “And it worked?” He signed skeptically.

“Surprisingly yes.”

“So, you have family here or something?”

“Don’t really have family much of anywhere.”

Peter frowned. “Then where are you staying?”

“Well, my plane arrived about an hour before my first day at work. So I came to work. And now I’m here. I hadn’t really thought of where I’d go after this, I guess I’d just figure it out, you know?” He probably shouldn’t be saying (or signing) this. He just admitted that he, a 17 year old from across the country, was homeless in New York in the middle of winter. But he didn’t think Peter had the power to send him back, and that warm feeling was still there. Peter was still trustworthy.

Before Peter could give a response, another person came throw the door: a average sized man with black hair streaked with grey and glasses. He was wearing a lab coat, which totally definitely didn’t freak Andrew out at all. Peter and the man exchanged a few words before he turned back to the boy in the hospital bed. Andrew used this time to assess the new guy. He stared at the wall. Warm. But as soon as he looked back at him and the fucking lab coat he felt an icy flash. He closed his eyes. Breathe. Okay.

He called these false flashes. When someone reminded him of a different memory, his signals would get clogged and mix up. He calmed himself down, but before he could try and assess again, Peter was waving for his attention.

“This is Dr. Banner. He patched up your leg while you were out. He has some questions for you, can I translate for him?”

“Can he lose the lab coat?” He signed back, careful not to look at Dr. Banner. Peter said something to the man, who gave Andrew a puzzled look, but complied. As soon as the coat was out of sight, Andrew looked at the man again, as a new person. Warm. Okay. Good. He was good. “Alright,” he signed to Peter.

Dr. Banner talked to Peter, who dutifully translated to sign. “He wants to know about your hearing. What causes you not to be able to hear right now? He says you told Clint whether you were hearing or not ‘depends.’ What did you mean by that?”

Andrew thought for a minute before he responded. “I have hyperacusis. I can hear literally everything around me really loud and from far away, so I have hearing aids to block out noise when needed. They’re on the fritz right now, so I can’t hear anything.”

“Why don’t you just take them out?” Peter signs, apparently saying it aloud as well.

“Too loud. I get too overwhelmed and just shut down completely.” Andrew replied. He never takes out his hearing aids, even when he wants to hear far away. Even at the highest setting, they let him focus on the sounds he wants to hear. Without them, he’s attacked by a cacophony of sirens and voices and electronic whirring and he just couldn’t handle it. Even the thought of it made his skin crawl.

This time translating from the doctor, Peter signed “What if we get you noise cancelling headphones for a bit? They don’t cancel out all the noise, so you’d be able to understand us somewhat, and we can work on fixing those for you,” he pointed to the hearing aids at the end of the statement.

Andrew nodded. “That would be okay.”

Dr. Banner left the room and was back with a pair of large black headphones, which he handed to Andrew.

Andrew braced himself before pulling out his hearing aids. Sure enough, the sounds around him attacked, and he rushed to put the headphones on. Once he calmed his breathing, he tried to listen. Sure enough, he could still hear. It sounded close to level two on his hearing aids; the noises were very muffled but definitely there, and noises closer took precedent. He could make out footsteps on floors above him, and what sounded to be an elevator. The whole building had that distinct whirring that seemed to follow all forms of technology. The headphones weren’t as advanced as his hearing aids, so he couldn’t focus in on certain sounds with them. He’d just have to deal with the sounds surrounding him until he got his hearing aids back.

Peter waved. “Are they working?” He signed.

Andrew nodded. “Try speaking,” he signed.

“Hello?” Peter said out loud.

Andrew nodded again. He signed, “I can hear you, but not too well with all the other sounds. You guys can talk, but I’d like it if you still used ASL as well?”

Peter repeated what he said back to Banner, who nodded and began to speak. “Okay Andrew, I have a few more questions. Why can’t you speak?”

“I’m nonverbal right now,” Andrew signed. “It happens when I’m stressed out or hurt or sometimes out of nowhere, so I sign instead.”

Dr. Banner nodded. “Alright. Is your leg still in pain?”

“Not much, just a dull hurting now.”

“I’m going to have you stay here and sleep tonight, and we’ll see how you are in the morning,” Dr. Banner said, standing up. Peter followed him, waving goodbye.

Andrew was left alone in the room. He didn’t want to fall asleep, not in a place he didn’t know, but he was so tired…

Needless to say, he was asleep in less than 10 minutes.

***

“Alright kid, what’s the deal?”

Peter tapped his knuckles nervously. The other guy seemed pretty closed off, and it felt wrong to tell everything about him to Mr. Stark. But on the other hand…

“I hadn’t really thought of where I’d go after this, I guess I’d just figure it out, you know?”

He was alone here. No home, no family, nothing. They were the same age, and he couldn’t imagine the tables being turned. So, for Andrew’s own well-being, he told Mr. Stark.

“He’s harmless, but he doesn’t have anywhere to go. No family anywhere near here, no place to live. He just got to New York this morning. Can we keep him?”

“He’s not a puppy, Peter. He forged documentation to get a job here, not to mention he started fighting alongside us out of nowhere. If anything, we should be turning him in to SHIELD-“

“It’s not like he was fighting against you!”

Tony sighed. Peter was giving his best puppy dog eyes. “Still, we know nothing about him, not really. We’ll send him on his way as soon as he’s recovered.”

“We know he’s enhanced,” Peter retorted. “You really want some enhanced kid with no clue running around New York by himself? He’s gonna get himself killed.” Or worse.

He had him there. “Okay. Okay, he’s staying. You got me, kid.”

Really, he was never going to just kick him out in the first place. He would’ve set him up with a place to live until he was on his feet. But Peter made good points- the boy was just a kid, after all. And not everyone can burn a building down with their mind.

I guess a new hero just got added to the tower, Tony thought to himself. He just hoped it would end up okay, for both parties.

#marvel oc #spiderman oc #mcu oc #Andrew Aguilar #awsten writes (oc edition)

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lazlolullaby · 2 years

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2012 VS Human!2018 TMNT Concept - Two Households, Both Alike in Ninja-Awesomeness

A fusion of 2012 TMNT and RoTTMNT. Set in the 2012 universe with all the drama that entails.

In 03 there was a Mystic Foot Clan branch. 2012 didn’t have much mystic stuff. So I’m just splicing Lou Jitsu/Rottmnt boys in because hells yeah.

HUGE LORE UNDER THE CUT~

Basically, ROTTMNT Splinter was part of the Mystic side of the Foot Clan. In 2012, Every Single Foot Clan member was killed due to the feud. It was due to some serious luck and stealth that Oroku Sho, who married in, was able to save his daughter Atsuko and toddler grandson Daisuke (means “big help”. This was chosen to be said in the most sarcastic tone possible.). They trained him to be a fighter, to hold their Mystic techniques and traditions and overcome the Hamato Clan with supernatural-styled vengeance.

Atsuko was on the trail, trying to find weaknesses of the Hamato, but she was killed defending her family. Instead of taking that grief and hardening his resolve, it breaks Daisuke. It makes him look at his family history in a new light; as a never-ending cycle of violence. He sees himself as alone – and despite his grandfather’s resolve in saying that “justice and our ancestors are with you, you will succeed in destroying the Hamatos”, he is just one person VS a fully-prepared Clan.

So he slips. If it is his destiny, it will happen no matter what, right? He tells his grandfather that “acting is just a hobby, I have to do something with my life and farming is too boring.” There was a hot girl summer where Teenage Yoshi + Saki + Daisuke hung out. They all got parts as stunt extras on a martial arts movie. He confronts Patriarch Hamato, tells him in no uncertain terms that he is the last, will remain the last and concedes defeat.

Changes his name to Lou Bauza, (Westernized name order, named after his VA, which coincidentally sounds like “Bowser”, fitting as a sometimes enemy of Yoshi.) starts a film career in Japan, then moves to America. Flashforward 10-ish years and had an accident on “Hot Soup Forever”. Had to stop acting and currently has chronic pain and fatigue. Walks with a cane on bad days. He ended up doing at home translation work for video games. When his fame dried up, he realized he didn’t have anything to come home to.

His apartment complex said “no turtles, rats, dogs, or cats”, so. He decided he wanted a child and adopts the two year old Raymond. He’s a mixed African-Latino child, temperamental but with Lou’s patience he softens up. Lou’s accent makes his name sound like Raimundo, “rai” being is Japanese for “Thunder”. They live together happily for about a year.

Then Saki shows back up, tells him that the Foot Clan has been restored, the Hamatos have been vanquished. Join me with our Clan back in our Homeland, it’s your birthright.

Lou is – angry, worried, threatened by the fact that he left that life behind is coming back to pull him in. He convinces Saki that he’s been playing the long game and waiting for Saki to learn of his heritage.

Lou ends up convincing Saki to fund a Dance Academy as a front for the American Foot Clan. It’s a lie, but he’s able to pull it off whenever Saki calls or anyone checks up on him. Knowing the history of his family, how badly the Shredder title makes people vicious, he knows that his time is limited.

So Lou decides that, “Fine. I might die because of my family, but Rai doesn’t deserve to be alone.” so. More kids.

He got Ryan (African, autistic and semi-verbal – goes by Othello because heck yeck Shakespeare) and Justice (Japanese-Brazillian, Usually called by his nickname “Blue” because once he figured out his gender, he kept changing his name every two days) as a two for one, because Blue would “translate” for his “twin”.

Then Angelo (African-Latino) followed Blue home from preschool one day. Lou tried to find his parents but – yeah he’s an orphan too, and the kids already bonded so.

April follows Ryan home when they were ten and just when Lou was thinking it’s going to be another Angelo situation her parents show up. They’re very excited that she has friends. Cassandra Jones was once a Girl Scout rivalry, but they bonded over fighting and now they’re friends.

The Bauza family lives in the second floor above the dance academy. There’s noise coming from below all hours of the day, Lou has it muffled with carpets and rugs. Because Lou is convinced that the Shredder will come after his family, he subtly trains them in the arts of ninjutsu. As fun family games, because he doesn’t want to worry them and he doesn’t want them to resent him. Like ninja hide and go seek, the Lair games, mimicking Lou Jitsu movies, etc.

Lou has the Mystic Ability to convert ordinary objects into corresponding weapons. Like Karai and the Hamato Ninpo in 2018. At first he was proud of it, but eventually he thinks it to be curse. After many years of meditation and training, he was able to do the reverse, becoming able to convert weapons into ordinary objects.

Every weapon that Blue brought in Lou would take and change it. Steel fan into paper fan, rings into tambourines, a sword into an umbrella, an axe to a squeaky hammer, Sai into a spatula, ninja stars into glow in the dark stars, etc. As a reference to the 2003 Turtles – swords into toilet plungers, sai into spoons, bo staff into a broom, and nunchucks into toilet scrubbers.

Lou thought that the ability wouldn’t be passed on because he didn’t have any biological children. However, their strong bonds caused their own personal Mystic Abilities to show up in all of his kids. (including April and Cassandra.) Only Blue can do the weapon conversion, but he’s yet to learn how to change them back, matching 2012!Leo’s Healing Hands. Lou tries to impress on them that Ninja isn’t a valid career choice and to have back ups and other options.

Then 2012 rolls around. The Shredder shows up in New York. Shredder is not seeing the extreme lack of Foot Clan recruits in NYC because he’s focusing on the Hamato Clan being alive. He trusts Lou to run the Japanese branch of the Foot Clan while he “stamps out the survivors.”

Lou does not care that Yoshi might be alive and with a Clan. Lou sees his chance to end the cycle himself. So he subtly starts to run the Foot Clan into the ground through terrible management.

2012!Karai shows up and has a few hangouts with the Bauza boys. It becomes clear that they have different parental standards. The boys are torn between being afraid of her and wanting to protect her from her terrible Dad.

It becomes funny how much that Lou is destroying the Foot Clan when he’s supposed to be protecting it. It’s even funnier when Shredder doesn’t even notice, getting more and more angry with “some Turtles” that get into his way.

Shredder sends Lou to fight the Turtles. Lou panics because “Wow Yokai exist – oh no they’re the same age as my boys!” and he’s on the defensive. Thanks to his chronic fatigue, he nearly loses to the 2012 Turtles. Rai, Ryan, Blue, and Angelo show up to defend him, rushing out in their civilian clothes. They all pair up against their counterpart.

Ryan goes, “Purple’s my favorite color – let me do this!” and attacks Donatello. Their bo staffs are matching up, but Ryan has a little more technique, able to stay back and not allowing purple turtle to get hits in.

“Woah, you’re named Leo? Like – is that short for something? Leandro? Lorenzo? Leonidas?” Blue asks, their huge odachi clashing against the twin katanas.

“Leonardo.” the turtle spits out.

“Cool because I’ve been looking for a new name, and I don’t want repeats.” he turns and shouts to the paired off siblings, “Guess what~ I’m neon Leon~”

“Great but we need to get Pops outta here – Tell me you’re charged up!” Rai shouts over the din, sai twisting the tonfa out of his hands. Mystic energy wraps around his fist and pummels the red-banded turtle, knocking him to the wall.

Orange turtle and Angelo are sitting on the ground and trying to untangle their weapons. “Can you put your whole body in your shell?”, “Not without help.”

Anyway – the Bauza boys get away. Since Lou isn’t awake to get a bad boss punishment from Shredder, Rai gets a punch. Leon makes sure that he’s bandaged up. They’re also freaking out, realizing that “it’s not just a game” and “Pops was teaching them how to stay safe”.

Lou wakes up, hugs them, talks to them about their family. The cycle of violence, the fact that everything he’s been doing has been trying to end this. “While I wasn’t sure that the Hamato Clan would be coming back, I knew that the Shredder coming for us was very real.” The boys create their ninja outfits and dedicate themselves to getting better so they won’t have to go through this again.

The turtles go back to see Master Splinter. Splinter explains that the Mystic family was always a support to the Shredder. That their abilities were rival to the Hamato Clan’s own Healing Hands.

Lou learns that Rai took his punishment and starts to get really mad. With his kid’s help, they devise a plan. Because the Shredder is so focused on the Hamato Clan, he’ll make him listen by setting up an ambush.

Since Lou needs as much energy as possible, their last day before the ambush is filled with a movie marathon, naps and karaoke. If this is the last time that they’re a whole family, they’re going to enjoy it.

Big fight happens, Lou is able to chain up Shredder so he can have a face to face talk. “You don’t check up on me enough.”

The Hamato Clan shows up and he also chains them up.

Rai pops up. “Hang tight. Shreddy isn’t returning our calls, so we figure dangling his sworn enemies in front of him is a good way to make him listen.

“We’re about to have $500 worth of therapy for the low cost of a half-hour of your time.” Leon says

“We are both Foot Clan. But you know? There is a difference between us.”

“You lacked the drive to take down the Hamatos? Any discipline to raise your sons as warriors? You’re a disgrace to this family.”

“You had a family. You had the Hamato behind you. You had Yoshi beside you. And you still destroyed it.”

“They were Hamato!”

“Then they followed you into the Foot – without question!” Lou stomps his foot. “If I’m the only one who sees that – hypocrisy, then I suppose I’m the only one who’s done anything about it.”

Shredder is not paying attention. He’s looking at the Rat Yokai that just broke in. “Seriously?” he said. “I just confessed that I took down your entire Clan and you don’t even look at me?” He binds up Splinter. “I’ve got a limited time. I’ll set you both loose and you can chase each other, Mr. Rat.”

Shredder starts laughing. “Why are you turning your back to an enemy? That’s Hamato Yoshi.”

Lou stops. Blinks. Does a double take. Makes a joke about how Splinter still looks hot. There’s a chorus of “eewws” from the Bauza boys and Mikey.

“Alright, since you’re not paying attention – You never do.” he sighed. “You had a family. You’ve always had a Clan. Do you know how much I wanted that?”

April’s steel fan comes out and he converts it into a paper fan. “You! Stupid! Fool! You could have had a loving family, and you fight! You always do! You have brought both Clans to their end – and I don’t want any further part in it!” He turns to look between them. “I’m not letting you destroy my family with our feud. I will not pursue you or my clan’s vengeance. If you want to kill me for your sake, I will defend myself. This cycle ends with me.”

Anyway the 2018 boys disappear. There’s a fight, but it stops.

They only come back once in a while as background characters. Then they show up as extra fighters in Karai’s New Foot Clan. Lou doesn’t know. Lou will be pissed.

So in 2012 there were certain parallels. If Leo = Splinter (dutiful son), and Raphael = Shredder (angrily focused on the wrong thing), then Michelangelo = Lou Jitsu (has talent but doesn’t use it properly).

#tmnt #tmnt crossover #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt #lou jitsu #splinter rottmnt #shredder 2012 #Lazlo's lulls #that was a lot of bandwith in my brain #just pick out what you want

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h0jos-f4vorite-t3stsubject · 2 years

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Feel the need to rant about this, but:

I really hate Dirge of Cerberus, not because it's camp for thrills or it's centered on one character (okay, maybe!), I hate it cause of how badly they messed up the core characters. Not the new characters like the Tsviets or Shelke (I actually like Shelke), I'm talking about it's main character and those he's connected to, which are Lucrecia and Hojo.

The game isn't very long and only has a longer run if you want to 100% everything and get the secret ending (oh God, please put Genesis back he doesn't need to come back despite him being a core character in the compilation). They have all the focus on Vincent and his backstory as a member of the Turks, but everything is from his perspective and memory which makes everything we see one sided.

And that doesn't help with fleshing out other characters cause we only get to see bits and pieces of what he sees in others and not how they actually are. We get one, maybe three if your pushing it, flashbacks where Vincent isn't the one retelling the story, those being the one where Lucrecia allows Vincent's father Grimoire to die, the one where Lucrecia finds Chaos's cave with Grimoire, and when Lucrecia is at her wits end and is planning on taking her own life.

Otherwise, everything is from Vincent's perspective, and with the focus on the love triangle between them and Hojo, it's not good storytelling.

We need flashbacks where Vincent isn't in them. We need to see a full flashback about Lucrecia's relationship with Grimoire so we can understand how attached she was to him and finally understand her deeper connection with Vincent (which has been taken over by fanon saying that she looked up to him because Grimoire actually liked hearing her thoughts and research to the point that she mistakes this for romantic advances and is in a relationship with him, which only contributes to her having an affair with Vincent because she fucked his father).

Believe it or not, but Hojo and Lucrecia genuinely loved each other and it's confirmed too by translated versions of character information about the og game.

Yeah! This is just the og game, and they threw that away when it came to Dirge of Cerberus, because they let a man who has no business putting his nose in their relationship try and intervene and talk about how bad this is going for Lucrecia. Thank God he got shot.

Oh, can I pose a theory? Even in Dirge, I still think Hojo experimented on Vincent, not Lucrecia. Sure, it was her research on Chaos and Omega that helped, but if Hojo wanted Vincent to suffer the most he would have put literal apocalypse in him. Lucrecia, sure, we'll say she was there to put him to rest when she thinks he's dead, but she wouldn't have been there long because she was degrading away and was suffering from the fact that her beloved husband killed her side piece and took her child away from her, probably with good intentions.

If Lucrecia was having second thoughts about the project because she was getting visions of meteorfall, it actually would have been best to keep her away so Sephiroth could live, and thus have the plot continue as normal. I'd even go as far to say that Hojo cared about Sephiroth living over his wife (cause he was probably angry and heartbroken when it was revealed that she was having an affair with her past fling's son).

Remember, Hojo wanted Sephiroth to succeed in his goals, it's why he was at the Sister Ray shooting mako at him to make him stronger and it's also the reason that Hojo even enacted the plan to wake Omega in Weiss's body. Even the digital reincarnation of Hojo loved Sephiroth enough to put the planet in danger.

Can we also talk about how Vincent had the chance to get more character development but didn't? Like, congratulations, you got over your guilt over shit that didn't even happen to you? He failed at his job to protect her, I'll admit that, but it wasn't his decision to have her be in the project, as I said before he shouldn't have put his two cents in there if he wanted to live.

Lucrecia made the conscious decision to have her baby as an experiment, and Vincent thinks that he should have protected her from that? His job was a body guard, he should have kept his mouth shut and his dick in his pants, and then he would have lived. Let the adult scientists in the project fight and argue amongst themselves to figure this out.

It's this type of shit that makes me think that Shelke was the only one that got any sort of development in the story, and she isn't even the main focus and has a connection with Vincent because she downloaded Lucrecia's personality and memory file. Shelke was taken from her home and away from her last living family member at a young age, she was brainwashed and conditioned to serve Deepground and the Tsviets by gathering information as concluded by her power set, she rekindled her relationship with her sister years later and learned that people genuinely think she's important to them and not a pawn to further their goals, and even helps Vincent in his moments fighting Omega and Weiss through their connection with Lucrecia cause she knows that's who Vincent will gain power from (cause literally the day is saved by the power of fucking friendship and love, I guess).

She actually gets development, she goes from point A to point B through through the whole story and even gets a happy ending, but it's Vincent who we focus on, even though his character arc could have come to a close in the og game by having him face the fact that he isn't responsible for what Lucrecia got herself into and that he should move on. WE GET A WHOLE GAME ABOUT VINCENT WHEN HIS ARC COULD HAVE CONCLUDED IN THE OG GAME! HOW FUCKING STUPID IS THAT.

Plus, I feel we need more characterization in our big three. We see bits of Vincent in flashbacks being this emo motherfucker and that he is actually terrible at his job. Hojo is one note through the whole game, and thats a problem because he's seen through Vincent's memories. How about we see Hojo and Vincent bickering and having heated discussions, about their families, and Lucrecia.

Why don't we get information about Hojo and his relationship with Gast, since it was said that he has an inferiority complex. Why don't we get to see what he was (cause I fucking despise how they use the same model for Hojo in past and present), a young know-it-all upstart with ideas to progress the world of science through new discoveries and who doesn't take no for an answer when it comes to those who try to limit his pursuit of knowledge. He's batshit crazy because he wants answers and won't hesitate to hurt others if it means he gets answers.

And Lucrecia! I hate to say it, but she isn't innocent either! She knew how far she would stray from ethics when she married Hojo and took to being his assistant. How she would look at him with determination and promise to learn everything she wants to know. How maybe Hojo actually listened to her about her theories and her research, despite the fact that he doesn't believe in it he's still willing to listen cause she listened to him. How she wouldn't even flinch when it came to science. But I also want her to struggle keeping Vincent around with her guilt over letting Grimoire die and her new powerful relationship with Hojo. I want to see her struggle trying to find ways to have both at her fingertips.

But that's too much for Squeenix, I guess. And I have a feeling that future installments of remake and new games like Ever Crisis is going to keep fucking it up. At this point, I'm just rambling. More gremlin Lucrecia, most soft and vulnerable Hojo, more actual development for Vincent. That's all I ask.

#ffvii #final fantasy vii #professor hojo #lucrecia crescent #vincent valentine #dirge of cerberus #just ranting #i love video games #but holy fuck

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rayofsunshinc · 1 month

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You've heard of your muse having a bad dad ... but what if your muse IS the bad dad?

I want to think that Cassidy didn't have bad intentions with Denis. My god these translations are not giving Cassidy a lot of credit here. How did Cassidy go from wanting to be the best dad in the world to Denis hating him? Also - was Denis just kind of not that great either? ( well yes)

I have thoughts.

Cassidy left NYC after he figured out that he was a vampire (around the late 1930s). He spent like ... ten years traveling, maybe caused a little chaos along the way, but he wasn't at his worst.

He eventually decided that he did want to learn things about being a vampire, so he went to New Orleans (because vampires, voodoo, witches and ghosts?). Instead of learning vampire things, Cassidy continued to just ... generally fuck around and cause some chaos probably.

Cassidy fell for a woman that he was screwing around with (but also is it unexpected that Cassidy falls in love? no it's actually in character for him to be secretly longing for human connection and love, but I digress). I imagine that Cassidy tells her that he's a vampire, which she is entirely too cool with. He thinks that he's found the perfect woman.

I kind of want to know more shit about Denis' mother. Cassidy's girlfriend? wife? I mean it was the 1940s ... did Cassidy get married??? I honestly ... wait, that was a wild thought that just occurred to me. Also does she only speak French? haaaaa my god. Cassidy, goddamn it.

Then this unnamed woman got pregnant. Was the first thought going through Cassidy's mind of what a vampire baby might be like? The possibilities of what could happen? Cassidy not knowing shit about being a vampire?? Well, as it turns out, vampires just make human babies. But GOD, did he even think about it??

Anyway, good lord this got derailed.

At this point, Cassidy is thinking, "Well, maybe I can actually just be a normal person with a normal family! Being a dad is going to be fine and normal. I got this!" And boy, can Cassidy talk a big fucking talk! And maybe he even believed it.

Only it's not normal whatsoever, because his child (and girl/girlfriend/wife??) are aging and he's not. That really only sinks in after the first maybe ... few years. It really hits him that they will die before him. Cassidy had an existential vampire crisis about this. He leaves.

While Cassidy was going a little wild before this out of pure boredom (I imagine him having been a terrible drunk bare minimum - like not mean or angry, but just fucking chaotic, unpredictable, off the walls), this is the turning point of Cassidy going off the fucking rails. Constantly drunk, discovers more drugs, spends the next at least thirty? years at least in an absolute blur of an existence.

Maybe when he had absolutely nothing he still tried to send them money. And Denis a birthday card. Maybe he couldn't bare to even do these things. Maybe Denis' mother asked Cassidy to stay away from them after he decided to leave.

Clearly Denis knew that Cassidy was a vampire. Maybe to in theory make it easier on Denis, Denis' mother romanticized the idea of being a vampire to make the blow less hard? Like "your dad's off doing vampire shit. He'll be back around." Cassidy definitely went to visit Denis at points in his life. It's clear that Cassidy came around, maybe only by the time that Denis was older, an adult even. Regardless, it seems like when he did come around, he made a horrific impression. But anyway, yeah, Denis clearly knew he was a vampire. And that's like ... an underlying reason why Denis was like "why can't you just turn me?" Because Cassidy just showed up to fucking party and act wild. Seemed like fun.

Also, it might be Cassidy's fault that Denis turns out to be not so great. It could just be the tragedy of having a child, only for them to turn out to be a bad person.

I'm feeling so normal about all of this. Not out of control or utterly defeated and sad.

I'm not really defending Cassidy, but I'm just thinking he had good intentions that ended up badly. Is that just the story of his life?

#cassidy: about

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kennyomegasweave · 1 year

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Get to Know Me

Tagged by @negrowhat.

Three Ships 1. Over: Team/Win I liked the 30 minutes we got in Until We Meet Again. The whole "be brave about it" scene got so many bitches and I was one of the bitches. I loved Between Us. The only complaints I had had nothing to do with those two. Also, unpopular opinion, but the subs translating "hia" to bro were amazing because I call my girlfriends dude, so it didn't even occur to me that it was weird Team was calling his boyfriend bro. I'm a Californian okay. That makes more sense to me than Win wanting his hookup to call him the same name his baby brother calls him and he calls his older brother. I don't even like daddy kink, no thank you to a brother kink, lol.

2. Not Airing, But Not Over: Palm/Nueng Listen. They're so hopelessly teenage. They're like 18 and are like "we ride together, we die together, bad boys for life." Palm got Nueng's name tattooed on him, got shot for Nueng, had his mom die due to Nueng's life, his father is in the wind cause of Nueng's life, and he's still like I love you more than anyone in this world baby. Nueng really isn't better. He was like you're officially debuting as my bodyguard so I'm gonna dress you in a slutty shirt and too tight pants since you're gonna be next to me and I want people to see my fine ass man *play Nikki Bella's "you can look but you can't touch"*. They both tried to break up with the other with dramatic goodbye notes and leaving in the night. That didn't work for either of them. Palm like owns a bar at the end? And Nueng is like still gonna take over an entire company, possibly mafia? Remember, they're like 18. It makes no sense, compels me though.

3. Currently Airing: Buck/Eddie Eddie legit said to Buck after a year of knowing him "I know you love [his son] the same as I do." And then after only like a year and a half of knowing him gave him custody of his son in the event of his death and when he finally told Buck that, like maybe two and a half years after knowing him, he was like "yeah I have family, but you love my kid more than anyone, you'd fight for him more." I don't think I need to say anything more. Oh, except I will mention the time Eddie was trapped in a mudslide well underground and Buck tried to DIG HIM OUT WITH HIS BARE HANDS until their captain stopped him because, you know, that wouldn't work and also get ahold of yourself Buck. I've lived in that moment ever since. "Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen, time went on for everyone else, she won't know it" and all that. It won't be canon cause I know my Ryan Murphy shows, but that won't stop me because they legit have a KID together.

First Ship Eric/Jack and Shawn/Angela from Boy Meets World I loved Eric/Jack together and wanted them together all the time. Even as a kid I was like "Rachael, babe, please, let them be with each other." Looking back, I know they were baby's first slash ship. Shawn/Angela were just perfect for each other and, to this day TO THIS DAY, I don't understand why they broke them up. It makes absolutely NO SENSE. Both of these ships are why I also don't acknowledge Girl Meets World at all. Because fuck that. Just fuck all that. Thank you.

I'm gonna do my first BL ship too because it's my post and I do what I want. Prem/Wad from SOTUS. Yes, I'm aware they weren't canon. And I will be FURIOUS until the day I die. Plus Wad just disappeared never to be spoken of again and I don't understand. I DON'T UNDERSTAND. Gunsmile was out here CAMPAIGNING for that ship. He would have done it! They would have made a good ship. They are the ship that should have been. I'm more angry about them not being an actual thing than I am about ToddBlack and, believe me, I am a full on clown about ToddBlack.

Last Song Serial Killer by Lana Del Rey. I will be mad as hell this was never officially released. It is in my Top 3 Lana songs.

Last Movie I haven't actually watched a movie in a really long time. So maybe it was Fair Haven months ago? I come back to that one a lot because it's not super angsty, but also not 100% fluff. It has the hint of religious trauma but even that's thrown off relatively easily cause he misses his bf that much, lol.

Currently Reading I just did a reread of The Long Walk by Stephen King. It's just sad. 100 boys are selected after volunteering to enter a yearly game in a weird alt America. They start walking at the Maine border and have to continue to walk until there's only one left alive. The winner gets anything he wants. They aren't allowed to stop for any reason. If they do stop, or fall under pace, they have three warnings and then they're shot. It's the worst because you know the entire time they're all doomed from the start, but you really hope somehow it won't end the way you've known it will end the whole time. Plus it's very fruity between two of the mains and that's like an acknowledged thing. That makes it even more devasting to me. It's one of my all time favorite books.

Currently Watching 9-1-1, Bed Friend, those are the only ones I can think of actively airing.

Currently Consuming Last night's grilled cheese.

Currently Craving Rice and an egg. Like cracking an egg on steaming rice? Perfection. I can taste it. Except I don't have any eggs. And like a cuddle buddy. I don’t cuddle but I want to, idk, lol.

Tagging: @ohnegroplease, @yourrescuemission

#about me #I will never stop SCREAMING about premwad #it's been YEARS since I've seen that show #it's been even longer since it came out #and yet #AND YET I CAN'T MOVE ON

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sortasirius · 3 years

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“Unity” and the Broken Boys

BOY Y’ALL BETTER SIT DOWN BECAUSE THIS IS AS LONG AS CAN BE AND I TOOK OFF WORK TOMORROW SO I’VE GOT TIME

This is....one of the best episodes in the show. Yeah, in all 325 of them, this is hands down one of the best.

First of all, stan Amara for clear skin.

That silent treatment babey, right out the gate with the Angst. Tbh Dean deserves it.

“Like I said, killing Amara, Jack dying...that’s the only way.”

“The only way. Our one shot. Our Last chance. You ever get tired of saying stuff like that?”

“We don’t have to like it, alright? But you and me, we gotta get it done.”

Amara is such a welcome energy in this whole episode. She’s warm and understanding, whip-smart and probably more powerful than Chuck. I love her.

Sam is a wonderful, understanding, loving dad. I love him eternally. He loves Jack so much, he’s trying so desperately to do what’s right for Jack but also what’s right for the world. Jack made this choice, but he can’t live with it. How do you support your child when their life is at stake?

“Come on man. Blindly following orders, lying to Amara, sending her to her death. Does any of this feel right to you??”

“It doesn’t matter how we feel! You know what? Stay. Stay. Someone has to be the grown up here.”

“Yeah well someone has to keep fighting for Jack!”

“He knows what he signed up for!”

“Last I checked, we don’t give up on family.”

“Jack’s not family.”

Y’all should have heard the noise I made. What a fucking line.

“I know how you feel about the kid, I care for him too, I do, but he’s not like you. He’s not like Cas. He’s just not.”

“I’m- I’m ready.”

You can see the regret, the heartbreak in Dean’s eyes. You can see how he wants to take those words back the moment he said them, and for Jack to hear them? It’s unthinkable.

Sam and Cas I’m just so fucking emo dude.

“Sam, you stayed behind to find another way huh? I woulda done the same.”

AMARA

First of all, LOVE this structure.

Amara and Chuck have such a fascinating dynamic. Rob and Emily do a great job (as they have all along) by clearly being siblings but...heightened. You can just tell they both exude power, and the other is the only one they consider an equal.

“You and Dean had that whole weird...thing.”

“That wasn’t you writing?”

“Ugh, not that part. Gross.”

What I took away from this is what I’ve suspected all along. They HAVE free will, just not total free will. Dean and Amara’s connection wasn’t Chuck, there are parts of the story he didn’t write. Obviously, this comes into play later.

I also have a hunch that Chuck doesn’t write romance. I also think that in particular will come into play.

“Balance. Something we’ve never tried before. Creation and destruction, light and dark, brother and sister united again, but on behalf of one world, this world. True balance. The way it was always meant to be. But you can’t. You only care about your pleasure, your story. Well, I guess that makes you the villain.”

“Villains get all the best lines.”

We see again and again this season, Chuck is irredeemable. He doesn’t care about the angels, he doesn’t care about the world, he doesn’t care about anything. He is a petulant toddler who has broken his toys. And when he realizes he’s trapped, he gets angry, he shouts and screams, completely at odds with Amara’s peace.

“You can’t hold me here forever.”

“I can hold you long enough.”

DEAN

Pain is the name of the game in this section homies. Because not only are we dealing with Dean’s pain, we’re also dealing with Jack’s. Jack says he understands why Cas and Sam mean more to Dean, but Dean clearly doesn’t, he, once again, wants to say more, but is stopped, still stopped by his fear: his fear of not beating Chuck.

Alright guys, gals, and non-binary pals. Let’s talk about Adam and Seraphina.

Adam. The first man. And Seraphina. The angel.

“My old lady. She’s the only one who could put up with me all these years.”

Yeah okay. Volume at 100 I get it lmao.

But also: Adam wants God dead not because he and Eve were kicked out of the Garden, but because he went after their sons. The theme of protecting the children strikes again.

“Killing God is your plan?”

“Yeah, Billie’s been giving us a hand but Sera and me, this is our baby.”

This juxtaposed directly with Dean’s own pain at what he has to do to kill Chuck, to gain his free will: the cost of his child.

Adam’s rib.

And who else might get his ribs hurt, only to be likely healed by an angel?

It’s fine, that’s fine. I’m fine with that.

“Jack, I don’t know how to explain it but, when I found out about Chuck, it’s like I wasn’t alive. Not really. You know like my whole life I’ve never been free, but like really free. But now? Now me and Sam, we got a shot at living a life, without all this crap on our backs. And that’s, that’s because of you. So, I want to say, I need to say...thank you, Jack. Thank you.”

I’m gonna have to do a separate post about just Dean in this episode, because there is so fucking much to talk about, but there are a couple of things that I think are important: Dean realizes how wrong he was, to say what he said. He knows that it’s not true, this is the way he’s always coped with loss, by pushing the person to be lost away, but for Jack to hear it? He can’t stand for that.

And:

Dean has finally pushed through the barrier. He won’t be quiet in the face of his doubts anymore. This is a breakthrough for him, and, of course, there are more to come.

SAM

Sam and Cas, my chaos duo.

The box, the inscription, the door.

Death’s library, filled with dead reapers.

And there it is. The Empty.

It tells Sam the plan, the plan for Billie to take God’s place. For everything to go back to the way it’s “supposed to be.”

This has always been the game, since season 13. This is the longest of long games.

Sam fuckin Winchester, lying his way out of a confrontation with the Empty like the legend that he is.

He comes back with a new purpose: to stop Billie’s plan, and here’s where we get to the heart of the episode and maybe the heart of the season.

“You hear that? Dean, brought to the edge of doubt. His sense of duty, his rage winning out in the end. And poor Sam, always gotta know everything. Can’t leave well enough alone. This is my ending, my real ending.”

The gun comes out, pointed at Sam.

Hmm...what did I say during 15x05? Oh yeah, this.

And:

Dean would never survive killing Sam, but he’s willing to do anything, anything to earn his freedom. His ending, where one brother kills the other and then kill himself.

Why, you might ask, did Sam not mention that the angels would be sent back to Heaven, why does he not mention Cas? I’ll tell you why, or rather, Becky will.

Plus, Dean looks back at Cas IMMEDIATELY when Sam says that, when he mentions Eileen, and THAT’S the first time he hesitates. He can’t lose Cas. But at the same time, he’s willing to do anything to have his freedom.

“Sam we don’t have a choice, Jack’s about to blow!”

“We always have a choice!”

You know me, just sitting here thinking about choice, the ability to choose, and how that translates to their free will.

And Sam...I don’t think there will ever be characters I love as much as these.

“I don’t care if Billie gets what she wants! I don’t man, I’d trade it all, I’d trade em all for Chuck. In a heartbeat!”

“What about me?”

“You’d trade me?”

“Chuck has to die. He has to! Otherwise he’ll keep us tap dancing forever, and I can’t live like that man, I can’t live like that, I won’t!”

“I know you feel like that right now, okay? I know you do, but you gotta trust me. My entire life, you’ve protected me. From Dad, from Lucifer, from everything. I didn’t always like it, you know? But it’s the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on. It’s the only thing I’ve ever known that was true. So please, put the gun away. Just put it away. We’ll figure it out, Dean, we’ll find another way, you and me. We always do.”

Okay I feel like this is going to be one of those scenes that I cry watching for years to come. Because fuck. After fifteen years they finally admit that not only did Dean protect Sam from Lucifer, but he protected him from John. John. On a par with Lucifer.

Dean and Sam have, for so many years, sacrificed themselves for the other. Dean’s demon deal, Sam and the trials, every season they have fought to see who can die the quickest for the other. But this? This is them fighting to stop the violence, to stop from killing the big bad. This is them growing, in our eyes, in real time. Sam has always been able to get through to Dean when no one else had a prayer, but for Dean to listen, for Dean to take his words to heart, to stop the hunt for Sam, for their family, that’s how you know they do have free will.

(Btw Chuck’s eye effect when he dusted Amara was sick as fuck but I’m emo for my boys so.)

Chuck knows it’s a loss, he knows that his story has, once again, been thwarted by the boys making their own choices. And he’s pissed, but in his anger, we get a bomb dropped on us.

“Spare me your contempt Castiel, the self-hating angel of Thursday. You know what every other version of you did after “gripping him tight and raising him from perdition”? They did what they were told. But not you. Not the one off the line with a crack in his chassis.”

Are you fucking kidding me?

Also, just worth bringing up this one as well:

Every Castiel pulled Dean out of Hell. Every one told him the same thing. And yet, immediately, with this Cas and this Dean, something was different. Because what has everyone seen about Cas, from the moment he met Dean?

And there’s our endgame people. Laid out on the line.

But we ain’t done yet, fam.

We’ve talked about the handprint, but you know:

So there you have it, our prep into the “monumental” 15x18. I have spec on that, of course, but I think a novel is long enough for this.

What to take away: Dean’s rage was always Chuck’s plan, they do have free will, their love for each other, for their family, is what will stop Chuck’s control, Death is about to come back with a vengeance, Cas’ deal is at play, and, most importantly, Castiel and Dean Winchester are a blind spot for Chuck, something he has never, not once, controlled.

#welcome to my essay lmao #supernatural #spn #spoilers #my meta #spn 15x17 #destiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #jack kline #castiel #amara #chuck shurley #lilly liveblogs supernatural

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hanibalistic · 3 years

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#FFD500 | PARK JISUNG.

genre | fluff, meet cute au, strangers au

word count | 1781

warning | smoking

with suit and tie, styled hair, minimal makeup, and a heavy name on his back, jisung realized he could not do it. he could not bring himself to enter the main scene of high school prom.

nervous sweat drenched his hands and he hastily wiped away at the side of his hips. the blinking neon lights coming through the small windows of the assembly hall doors, and the loud blasty music that belonged to none other than his very own idol group made him feel isolated in this dark, empty school hallway he has barely walked across since he got accepted into the school.

there was no point in this. there was no point in attending. donghyuck had encouraged him the most when he was debating whether he wanted to go to prom; he said it could help with blowing off some steam, and there might even be a possibility of meeting someone eccentric, like how he did when he decided to attend prom two years back. jisung had believed him, and now he realized he should not have.

he barely attended school because of his conflicting schedule as a worldwide idol. logically speaking, he shouldn't even be allowed to graduate with the number of absences in his record, but he did so with flying colors anyway. he was everyone's friend and he has no friends; there would be no one to talk to inside, and the clear superiority in accomplishment he held might make things embarrassing and awkward for him.

he understood why donghyuck would deem his experience at his prom great. it was because he knew how to talk, he knew how to charm, and he was never shy around people. jisung believed his story when he talked about the student he frantically danced with under artificial lights. for donghyuck, having met someone eccentric was merely a fortunate coincidence, if not a miracle that he met someone exactly like him.

jisung was nothing like that. he knew he was nothing like that. dealing with strangers, let alone the mysteriously off ones, was never his forte. he would just make a fool of himself, he would not be having a good time.

going to prom was a bad idea. he should leave.

"jesus–watch it!"

"ah..." his voice dimmed as he immediately turned toward the direction of where the explosive voice came from. his hurrying steps halted to a stumble before a stop, and he eyed you up and down carefully before he dipped his head. "sorry... i–i didn't mean to scare you."

"i wasn't scared, just startled," you retorted quickly, but your voice was much calmer than your initial snap. tapping the lit cigarette in your hand lightly with your index finger, you mumbled as you eyed him with mild curiosity after your angry brows faded, "you came out in a hurry. forgot you had an award show to attend to, hmm?"

"oh–no, it's not that–" jisung paused abruptly, he wasn't sure why. when you raised a brow at him, almost impatiently it seemed, he gulped down a nervous knot and scratched the back of his head. "sorry, i just.. i didn't think you would know me."

you blinked at him as you swiped your tongue against your teeth, clicking with what jisung could not tell was menace or disinterest. either way, they were both bad. taking a short puff of the cigarette, you exhaled a cloud of smoke before you mused, "who said i know you, park jisung?"

he gulped, visibly distraught and confused.

"you just said–"

"i just what?"

he gulped again when his meek sentence was cut off so quickly. not even his brothers have interrupted him like this before, at least not with the genuine intention to anyway. it seemed that at this moment, he further came to the realization just how well he was taken care of by everyone around him, because could such a simple jab to a social interaction cause him such anxiety if he was used to it?

(he was glad he wasn't used to it.)

"what is a hotshot like you doing here anyway?" you fired the sudden question, looking to him with intrigue.

you were never one to engage in idol activities. you weren't even in this school to become an artist; you were forced here by your parents who stood somewhere in the industry. one day they realized you had the voice and the range to deserve the spotlight, and here you were stuck in those shit-ugly, overdue-banana-colored uniforms, trying to be a star you didn't want to be.

but jisung—you knew jisung. everybody knew jisung. your classmates, the teachers, that random american tourist who asked you for directions in the street, that kpop warrior online who kept screenshots of netizen articles and translating them out of context. everybody knew jisung, but very few knew him enough.

you didn't care much for him, but your curiosity just had to be fulfilled now that you were seeing him in person. what was he doing here, in a suit and sweating through his hair? did he always talked this shyly or was it your typical idol persona act? were you scaring him and should you do it even more to purposefully leave a bad impression?

your stare was confronting in this silence. granted, it was his turn to speak, so he was at blame for your lingering gaze on him. "i thought... i thought maybe i could go to prom," he finally replied quietly.

you hummed in acknowledgment, then you tilted your head. you looked behind your shoulder into the school, your eyes briefly grazing past the colorful doors that were the entrance to literal teenage hell, and you jabbed your thumb toward the direction. "prom is that way, though, dumbo."

"i know that," jisung said, embarrassed. "i just... i don't have friends."

you laughed, and once again jisung couldn't tell if you were genuinely amused or it was a response of mockery. inhaling carefully, you longing exhaled the smoke as your dazed eyes looked past him, with a smile so vague it seemed unnatural.

"what are you talking about? you've got friends. you got friends everywhere!"

"i... i don't?"

"sure you do!" you exclaimed boldly as you stretched your arms out to the sky, eyes ablaze at the stars above. "they are everywhere for you, jisung. you got friends everywhere because everyone wants to be your friend. you have options, you are just not taking them!"

"but they're not–" he licked his lower lip nervously, feeling a sense of sorrow cast over him upon the teenage loneliness he gained in trade for his success. "they're not real friends."

you paused.

real friends?

you paused; motions stopped, arms empty without strength, and eyes hallow with confused questioning. you stared at jisung as if he was a foreign creature who had said something absurd, so absurd you had to decide whether you wanted to ridicule him or interrogate him first.

what are real friends, anyway?

people who love you but do nothing about it, people who say they love you but do not, people who act upon loving you but do not? people who leave you alone at a bad time because you asked them to, people who would not leave you alone at a bad time even if you asked them to, people who knew how to juggle in between? people who comfort you because they understood you, people who advise because they could not understand you, people who try to relate to you because it was what they knew to be comfortable?

which one of those was real? were any of them fake simply because you didn't like it? when did you get crowned the decision-maker?

what are real friends, anyway? why does it matter, anyway?

why does truth matter if the lies treat you so well?

when you made up your mind to do both, you began to move fluidly again. your lips opened to breathe, and you chuckled sardonically at his naivety.

"what do you need the realness for? lies are lies only if it bothers you, essentially meaning you don't really need the absence of lies," you said. "who cares about real friends, you just need friends. don't you think you are expecting too much from humanity?"

there was sympathy in jisung that he did not know had risen. the basis of the situation, of why you came to the conclusion that people were less than gentle and kind, he knew nothing of but he was sorry for. whether something has happened in your life, or if you simply grew to be cynical, the lack of tiny joys in life must be a terrible feast.

he also knew he hasn't the energy and wit to argue himself to victory; his humanism, the desire to prove that people are good because his people have been good, would not be enough to shake you.

"shouldn't you stop smoking?" he asked, promptly changing the subject.

you removed the cigarette from your mouth, brows furrowed in annoyance now that the attention was directed toward you. you exhaled the smoke slowly from your throat, and you tilted your head up to the sky where you gently said, "maybe not. i just can't seem to die."

your god-given voice just wouldn't let off.

"do you plan to go back in after then? smelling like smoke?" he asked.

"don't mock me boy." you grinned with a glare hanging off the corner of your mouth. "and no, i am not going back in. i don't have friends, but unlike you, i just don't have friends because i am a raging asshole."

jisung finally breathed out a giggle, but it was abruptly short. he covered his mouth and lowered his head, only peeking up at you occasionally. "well, if it's any consolation, i don't think you're all that bad."

your eyes fluttered as you silently tapped your cigarette. he was just as you expected but a little more. you could understand why people like him so much now; his innocence wasn’t a drag, it was a charm.

you gave him a silent but thankful smile before you looked away. "yeah. thanks."

jisung thought you looked less angry now; eyes at the stars, wishful and longing to be above. the blush that blossomed on his cheeks remained despite the faded nervousness, maybe it was because he felt a fondness toward you he usually wouldn't toward the people he spend his time around; you were a classmate, someone his age, someone who could understand him if allowed.

an eccentric stranger that donghyuck suspected he might meet.

maybe it was a good idea that he never went to prom.

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Part Twenty-Three

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: so yeah this isn’t my best work bc i havent been feeling great lately but i hope you guys can stay patient with me until i get my shit together. we’re almost to the end🤞

***

Sitting crammed between Elain and Feyre on the gray couch in Lana’s office, Nesta has to cross her legs prettily and pretend she doesn’t want to peel out of her skin right there. She doesn’t know what she was thinking when she invited her sisters to one of her therapy sessions, but she’s assuming it would be considered rude to kick them out now.

“Who wants to speak first?” Lana’s bob swings as she looks at each of them. The office is ice cold today, and Feyre and Elain’s presence doesn’t help the chill in the air.

Nesta crosses her arms before she can be asked to speak. “No, thank you,” she says. She knows everyone probably expects better from her, but no way in hell is she going to be the first to open up in front of this crowd. “Feyre,” she turns to her youngest sister instead, “why don’t you say something?”

“Actually, why don’t you set the example, Nesta?” Lana gives her a look, making her cheeks redden with irritation.

“Fine,” Nesta grumbles. She clears her throat. “As you can see, I have made moves to reconnect with my sisters. I invited them here because I hoped that therapy would bring us closer and also make them more… tolerable.”

Elain coughs, “Bitch.”

Nesta smiles tightly. “Elain could especially use this, I think.”

Lana is already frowning. She never frowns this early into a session. “We’ll start with an easy question, then. What’s been on your mind lately, Nesta?”

Nesta purses her lips, pretending to think. “Nothing important. I’m looking at jobs for the summer. I think Azriel keeps sneaking money into my purse, and it’s starting to become more than a little condescending. I caught up with some friends from school, and I was polite enough to pay for lunch.” She mentions off to the side to Elain, “Lucien was there, too.”

“Why would I care?” Elain sneers. She spies Lana’s disapproving look and lowers her head demurely. “Sorry,” she murmurs.

“That’s alright,” Lana says. “Why don’t you go next?”

“Me?” Elain’s head snaps up, and Nesta holds in her snicker.

“Start by describing your relationship with Nesta. I heard you two used to be very close.” Lana uncaps her pen, preparing to write.

Elain flushes lightly and folds her hands. “That was when we were children. The only thing keeping us together was that we shared a home. When we stopped living in the same place, some of us had no problem leaving others in the dust.”

“You can use my name,” Nesta rolls her eyes, “I’m right here.”

From the corner of her vision, Feyre cringes.

“Are you saying you feel abandoned by Nesta?” Lana continues probing.

Elain’s answering silence tells more than enough. Therapy must actually be paying off, though, because Nesta only thinks about interrupting and defending herself for a second before shaking it off. Her mind focuses on the word abandonment instead.

Lana is focusing on the same thing, because she leans closer and says, “Being abandoned bothers you?”

“I never said that,” Elain says indignantly.

“It would bother most people.”

Nesta watches Elain sigh and blink her big doe eyes at Lana. She’s always been able to use those eyes on anybody for anything. “I just don’t understand why I’m the villain for expecting a little loyalty,” Elain says sweetly. “Especially when you take a look at this face.” She cups her round cheeks. “You know psychology. How could you abandon this face?”

Nesta’s jaw hangs open. “Are we still talking about me?” She remembers Cassian telling her the story behind Azriel ghosting Elain, and a pang of guilt and pity hits her. She still hasn’t talked with Elain about why Azriel left Velaris, and she knows she won’t be able to decide whether to spare Az or not until she does.

“So that’s my turn,” Elain finishes up. “Feyre can go next.”

Lana is writing something sharply on her notepad, but she nods coolly. “Feyre, how would you describe your relationship with your sisters?”

“Oh, we don’t have time for all of that,” Feyre laughs awkwardly and waves a hand.

Nesta agrees, but the look Lana gives Feyre tells her that yes, they do have time.

Gulping, Feyre glances around. “Well, I was born last, so I guess that made me the outsider of the family. I never had much in common with my sisters, but now that we’re older I… hoped that we would grow past that.”

Translation: she hoped that once she found her happy ending in Rhysand’s arms, poor little Nesta and Elain would happily assimilate into her new community of wealthy friends, putting the cherry on top of her perfect life. And while Elain did that exact thing, it’s always bothered Feyre that Nesta won’t do the same.

Feyre continues, “I admit I’m not the best at understanding Nesta. Elain and I get along fine now, but Nesta…” Feyre meets her eyes. “It’s like nothing we do is enough for her, but for some reason I can’t stop trying.”

“Whose fault is that?” Nesta mutters.

“You want her approval,” Lana hums, taking notes.

“Is that what it is?” Feyre looks away.

Nesta refrains from saying yes, that’s exactly what it is, and it’s not my problem if you keep looking for something I can’t give.

“What are your feelings about that, Nesta?” Lana turns her focus to her. “Remember that this is a safe space.”

It really isn’t, not with two siblings holding long term grudges against Nesta. But once and for all, she’s going to set the record straight. “I spent most of my life being a bad sister.” Nesta’s voice is apathetic, straightforward. “I let Feyre take the burden of providing for us even though I was the oldest, and I didn’t know how to be anything other than cruel to my family. So once I had the means to do so, I cut everyone off for all of our sakes. I still don’t regret it, because being a stranger is better than being a bad sister.”

In that way, Nesta is a bit like her mother. Nesta was angry after her death, but she knows she would have been even angrier if Magdalene Archeron had lived and continued to be a disappointing parent. In that way, both of them are wise for leaving their families when they did.

“Or you could just be a good sister,” Elain interrupts with a drawl.

Nesta smirks bitterly at her. “I’d rather die.”

Feyre takes in a breath. “Why? Why are you like that with us?” She blinks furiously, and Nesta can see the simmer of her emotions. “It was okay when we thought you hated everybody, but you don’t. You only hate me and Elain.”

Nesta looks to Lana for help, but her therapist is sitting this one out. She sighs through her nose. “I don’t hate you,” she says, even though they might never understand. The next line comes with great difficulty. “I’ve loved you since before I even knew what love was. But I don’t like you very much, Feyre, and you don’t like me, either. Please stop trying to change that.”

When she finally meets Feyre’s eyes, though, they’re glimmering with tears. “How can I stop trying to change that?” Feyre whispers. “How can I give up on us like that?”

For Nesta to give Feyre and Elain the relationship they want from her would require nothing but lies on her part. And as much as she wishes she was capable of lying about this, she can’t do it.

Looking away and down at her hands, Nesta mutters, “It’s not fun for me either, but it’s how I am. I can’t be easy or friendly with you. I hate watching you try to make me be easy or friendly.”

Nobody says anything to that, but when Nesta looks up again Lana gives her a remote nod that Feyre and Elain don’t catch. Thank you for your vulnerability, it says.

“You said something interesting, Nesta,” Lana breaks the silence. “Did you see your sisters as your responsibility to raise?”

Nesta shrugs. “I was the oldest,” she repeats.

“Your father was the oldest.”

“He wouldn’t do shit even if you held a gun to his head, so I was up next.” Though Nesta hadn’t done shit either. Neither had Elain, but the rules have always been different for her. Elain redeems herself to others by handing out sunny smiles and pretending to have the intelligence of a fawn.

Lana stares at Nesta until Nesta’s skin starts to heat. “What?” she says defensively.

Ignoring the other two women in the room, Lana leans forward. “You told me once early into our relationship that part of the reason you left Tennessee was to get away from your sisters. You said you were heartbroken when they ended up following you here.”

Nesta doesn’t breathe or look to see her sisters’ reactions.

“Now I’m going to ask: did you really want to get away from your sisters, or did you want to escape the feeling of failing them?”

Nesta doesn’t know how to answer, because to her they might as well be the same thing. Having Feyre and Elain around is like having a weight tied to her chest. The lingering guilt every time Feyre is in a room, her existence screaming I’m the reason you’re still alive. Elain’s constant expectations of unconditional support and loyalty, whether it’s reciprocated or not. It’s all so heavy. And it all goes back to the fact that the three of them were once just helpless children.

If she couldn’t take care of her sisters, how is she supposed to take care of any child, ever?

Nesta releases a weary sigh. “You’re going to bring this up the next time we have the baby talk, aren’t you?”

Lana’s eyes sparkle. “Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet.” But Nesta can see from where she sits that her therapist’s notepad is covered in bullet points.

***

“I need to use the bathroom.” Feyre is hopping back and forth on her feet once the session is over. “You guys head down to the parking lot without me.” She exits in a rush, leaving the two sisters alone. Nesta hisses in frustration, nearly chasing after Feyre so she won’t have to face the inevitable awkward conversation with Elain.

By the end of the session, it was Elain that broke and pleaded with Nesta, “Don’t do everything we want, then. Just keep doing better, the way you’ve already been doing. I’ll be happy with just that.”

Nesta was surprised that Elain had even noticed her efforts, but she retorted, “And how do you plan to do better?”

To which Elain twirled her hair and murmured something halfheartedly about, “I might be more open to taking criticism or whatever.”

Though it was the absolute bare minimum, it was still a relief for Nesta to hear Elain admit that she has flaws worth criticizing.

Now, Nesta clutches the straps of her purse and turns for the stairwell leading to the parking lot. Elain follows without comment.

Inside the stairwell, Nesta asks, “Have you spoken to Azriel since he left Velaris?”

Elain looks surprised at the sudden question, and doesn’t remember to be guarded when she answers, “No. Why?”

Nesta shrugs, her heels thumping loudly on the linoleum stairs. “Because I know what happened between you two. I know why he left.”

Elain halts midstep, grabbing Nesta’s arm and turning to face her with wide eyes. “What do you mean, you know? He told you?”

“He told Cassian, and Cassian told me.” Nesta hardly cares that she’s being a poor friend to Azriel by spilling all this to Elain, and continues, “If I had known he was such a coward, I would have kicked him out of our place a long time ago… but I figured I would get your input on it first.”

She’s never seen Elain look so genuinely pleading before. “Get my input on what?” Elain breathes. “What did he say about me? Was it something I did?”

At that torn face that borders on heartbroken, Nesta decides that she’ll do more than kick Azriel out of the cabin. She’ll kick him off the whole mountain.

She shoves Elain’s back to get Elain detached from her and moving down the stairs again, and as they walk, Nesta spills everything she knows. She tells Elain about Rhysand’s talent of shoving his nose into places it doesn’t belong, and how one conversation with him managed to convince Azriel to ditch Elain for good. She tells her about how instead of having a straightforward conversation with Elain, Azriel chose to leave the city and hide out in the mountains like a pussy. She might sound blunt, but Elain needs blunt. She needs to know the unfiltered truth of things.

By the time they reach the floor where their cars are parked, Elain is silent. “Did he really say that?” she finally asks quietly. “He said he wants me to hate him?”

“That’s what I heard.” After a moment, Nesta feels the need to add, “You should hate him, though. He fucked up bad.”

When Elain continues strolling for their cars without replying, concern bites at Nesta. “You are mad at him, right? And mad at Rhysand? You’re not going to forgive them, right?”

“I’m not a total pushover,” Elain snaps. She stares at the cement ground as they walk. “I’m just… more disappointed than anything else. He gave up so easily.” She chuckles without humor. “It sounds like he was looking for an excuse to get away from me.”

Nesta frowns. “I don’t think he would’ve spent so long moping around our house if he wanted to leave you.” Though they can never truly know what Azriel was thinking or feeling until he grows a pair and talks to Elain. Still, she shudders at having to defend him.

“I take it he doesn’t mope anymore?” Elain says.

Nesta doesn’t know how to answer that truthfully. She knows there’s more to Azriel than he lets her and Cassian see, and she knows he’s gotten better at keeping his feelings to himself. So she says, “It looks like he’s doing better, but I really don’t know.” They reach Elain’s car.

“Were you in love with him?” Nesta suddenly asks. Or worse, is she still in love with him?

Elain digs around for her keys in her purse. “You know how I am. Of course I was.”

“Not anymore, though?”

Elain looks up, keys now in hand. “It’s hard to still feel love for someone I haven’t talked to in two months.”

Then it wasn’t real love. Nesta is relieved, even though it doesn’t change the fact that Elain is hurting either way.

Elain jabs her keys at Nesta and says sharply, “Don’t you dare punish him for what he did. That’s for me to decide on.”

Nesta’s brow creases in refusal. “I’ll do what I need to do, and you do you.” She’ll have to be careful with her plotting, though, considering Azriel is Cassian’s brother.

“No.” Elain surprises Nesta with the force in her tone. “He’s your roommate and your friend. Keep treating him like it.”

Elain makes it sound easier than it is, and Nesta wants to argue until she sees Feyre heading down the parking lot toward them. “Fine,” she grumbles halfheartedly.

Elain gives her one final long look, not of threat but something else. “Thank you—for inviting us today.” That’s all she says before getting in the driver’s seat of her little red car. At the same time, Feyre catches up to them.

“Where are you parked?” Feyre pants as she approaches Nesta. She sounds a bit out of breath, like she ran to get here before Nesta could drive off alone.

Nesta points down the lot to where her scrappy old car is waiting for her, and Feyre straightens up with a grim smile. “I’ll walk you.”

Nesta knows that arguing isn’t worth it, so she allows Feyre to trail her the rest of the way to her car. Once they reach the old thing, Nesta gives a curt goodbye and heads straight for the driver’s door. Before she can touch the handle, Feyre attacks her from behind with a hug.

“Get off me, freak!” Nesta tries to jostle her way out of Feyre’s arms. She tries being nice to her sisters one time and this is what she gets—

Feyre only squeezes her tighter. “You don’t have to hug back. Just let me love you my way.”

Nesta squirms for another second before stilling. Swallowing tightly, she stares at the reflection of herself and Feyre in the car door window. One of her hands goes to where Feyre’s hands are clasped around her stomach, and she stands there without moving. She can’t remember the last time she shared affection with a family member like this, but it must have been before their mother died.

The warmth at Nesta’s back doesn’t leave, like Feyre is trying to pour all her understanding into the hug. Silently saying, I’m finally starting to get it.

In a way, Nesta is starting to get it, too. After all, how do sisters with such a complicated history begin to forgive each other?

Not by apologizing, but by doing better in the future.

***

On her way home, Nesta remembers at the last minute to stop by Gwyn’s apartment to pick up one of her sweaters. She doesn’t know when Gwyn started raiding her closet like it was a free mall, but she has a school event next week and doesn’t plan on letting her nicest clothes rot at Gwyn’s forever.

Nesta enters using the key beneath the doormat, knowing Gwyn is at work and won’t mind her stopping by. She scans the living and dining areas for a glimpse of brown cashmere, but only finds scattered books and a disorganized mess. Her fingers twitch with the urge to stop and tidy up the place, but she continues hunting for the sweater. Gwyn promised it would be waiting in plain sight for her.

Realizing the scatter-brained girl probably forgot to put the sweater out for her, Nesta pauses in the hallway leading to Gwyn’s bedroom and bites her lip. She doesn’t know if bedrooms are off limits or not, considering how often Gwyn and Emerie have barged into hers, but she knows she doesn’t want to make a second trip here just for a sweater.

Without giving it further thought, she strides into Gwyn’s room—

And yelps to find Gwyn on the bed.

Except she isn’t alone, and there’s definitely another body under the dark green blanket with her, and whoever it is definitely has their head between her legs.

Nesta spins away at the same time she hears Gwyn’s cry of surprise. She braces one hand against the doorjamb and presses the other to her freezing cold face, not having any words for what she just saw.

“Nesta?” Gwyn calls from behind her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Um, have you seen my sweater? It’s the expensive one.” She’ll just grab it and leave. Or maybe she’ll just leave—yes, that sounds like a good idea.

“Nesta?” a new, deeper voice repeats.

Gwyn hisses, and Nesta freezes because she recognizes that voice. She wants to be wrong so badly, but she has to whirl back around to confirm for herself.

“Azriel?”

***

a/n: i decided to cut this chapter short and add an extra one to flesh out my silly little gwynriel subplot. so if there’s anything specific or random you wanna see happen in the next chapter tell me bc i might have space for prompts!!

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook a favor: @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea

#ncssianwrites #a favor #nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #nessian fic #nessian au

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little-smartass · 3 years

Text

THE VAMPIRE LESTAT COVER ALBUM - the legendary Vampire Lestat is back and bigger and badder than ever, this time bringing a whole album of song covers ranging from classic bangers to newer fresh takes on chart hits! get your copy now, complete with a transcript of the artist's commentary on each song!

(songs I think Lestat would cover and release as an album in an attempt to re-kickstart his career and/or make some sort of dramatic statement to Louis. tracklist and "artist commentary" under the cut)

Survival - Muse

“And I’ll reveal my strength, to the whole human race, yes I am prepared, to stay alive, and I won’t forgive, and vengeance is mine, and I won’t give in, because I choose to thrive! Yeah I’m gonna win!”

Oh, I wish this song had been around back on that opening night at the Cow Palace - how apt that would have been! What a fucking anthem! They would have been rioting all night. I mean, they already were, but, like, because of the music. Not because vampires were being immolated in the middle of the crowd. Different kind of riot.

The Bitch Is Back - Elton John

“I’m a bitch, I’m a bitch, oh the bitch is back, stone cold sober as a matter of fact, I can bitch, I can bitch, ‘cause I’m better than you, it’s the way that I move, the things that I do!”

One day I want to have this play as I walk into Night Island. I’ll time it perfectly so that I throw off my coat - my denim jacket, or- oh, no, a fur! Maximum drama! - just as the chorus starts. Armand will know that I’m coming of course, but I think that’ll just make it even better. And I have good memories to this song... [muffled question] Sorry, gentlemen don’t kiss and tell, bébé. [laughter]

Everybody Loves Me - OneRepublic

"Oh my, feels just like I don’t try, look so good I might die, all I know is everybody loves me, head down, swaying to my own sound, flashes in my face now, all I know is everybody loves me”

Look, do I even need to explain this one? Didn’t think so.

Bad Reputation - Joan Jett

"I don't give a damn ‘bout my reputation, I've never been afraid of any deviation, and I don't really care if you think I'm strange, I ain't gonna change - and I'm never gonna care bout my bad reputation"

This one's fairly self-explanatory again. It could have been my personal anthem when I was mortal quite honestly. And it's an awful lot of fun to jump about and headbang to, don't you think? That's a new thing I've found out about, headbanging. People have been hopping about to music looking like fools for centuries but now there's a name for it. Fantastic.

bad guy - Billie Eilish

"I’m that bad type, make your mama sad time, make your girlfriend mad type, might seduce your dad time… I’m the bad guy. Duh.”

Creepy? Check. Sexy? Check. Tongue-in-cheek? Check check. This song was great and a lot of fun to cover.

Lover to Lover - Florence + the Machine

“I believe there’s no salvation for me now, no space among the clouds, and I feel I’m heading down, but that’s alright, that’s alright, that’s alright”

I don’t know, this one just felt very relevant. Also the piano was great to do. You might have noticed that I’ve picked a lot of songs with piano, and that’s because I bullied the studio into getting me a goooooorgeous grand piano for the recording space and I wanted to use it as much as possible!

Feeling Good - Muse

“Stars when you shine, you know how I feel, scent of the pine, you know how I feel, oh freedom is mine, and I know how I feel”

I just really like this song - I’ve done a cover of an excellent cover! Can- can you put emojis in this? Do people still use emojis? Well imagine I’ve put the shrug one. Wait, isn’t there- Daniel, Daniel, come here, isn’t there a shrug emoji made up of keyboard- [muffled words] yes! The shrug one! Yes, put that in the transcription. [ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ] I just like this song.

The Man - The Killers

“I got gas in the tank, I got money in the bank, I got news for you baby, you're looking at the man, I got skin in the game, I got a household name, I got news for you baby, you're looking at the man”

I feel like this one speaks for itself too. Can you put that shrug emoji thing in here again? [ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ] Yes!

J'ai Pas Envie - MIKA

J'ai pas envie, de faire comme si, comme les maris, qui disent oui, j'ai pas envie, j'ai pas envie, j'ai pas envie d'te faire plaisir, j'ai pas envie, j'ai pas envie, si tu m'aimes viens me le dire"

Look, I'm not going to translate the whole song for you, because it has all this clever wordplay you just totally lose in english… but the gist of it is that these two lovers are… at odds a lot. It's… it's maybe a little spiteful [laughter] but in a fun way! It's a fun song! Louis won't even be mad about it, it's MIKA.

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy - Queen

"When I'm not with you, think of you always (I miss those long hot summer nights), when I'm not with you, think of me always, always"

[Long pause] God, I miss Freddie.

Let 'Em Talk - Kesha

Ah, full disclosure - I put this song in purely because of the expression Louis made when I played it in the car and it got to the line “can suck my dick” and she did that popping noise… it was incredible, and I just knew I had to cover it so I could see his expression when I said that. I can’t wait to play it to him. [laughter]

So What - P!nk

"So so what, I'm still a rockstar, I got my rock moves, and I don't need you, and guess what? I'm having more fun, and now that we're done, I'm gonna show you tonight, I'm alright, I'm just fine, (and you're a tool, so)"

I'm actually a big fan of nineties and noughties female stars - all that grrrrrrrl power, it's great fun, you know? I'd say this one is fairly self-explanatory, because I am still a rockstar! This is my new album! Fuck you EMP and your sniffy little article calling me "washed up"!

Little Lion Man - Mumford & Sons

"But it was not your fault but mine, and it was your heart on the line, I really fucked it up this time, didn't I my dear?"

This one could be self-deprecating, but it's also very vindictively angry at the same time, and that's a combination I definitely get. Like, oh, it's my fault, isn't it? It's my fucking fault again, what a surprise. Perhaps "learn from your mother or you'll spend your days biting your own neck" is a little on the nose… [muffled words] you've read my books, right? [muffled words] Good, good.

Missy - The Airbourne Toxic Event

"But I swear there's still some good in me, I think if you'd stuck around you'd see, all the botched attempts at integrity I once had"

Oh, I was feeling philosophical when I picked this one. No, philosophical isn't the right word… melancholy? Do people still use that word? "I swear I swear I swear I'll never get sad" is both furiously defiant and yet so self-defeatingly ironic. [Exasperated noise] Enough of that. Next!

Please Don't Leave Me - P!nk

"I don't know if I can yell any louder, how many times have I kicked you out of here, or said something insulting? I can be so mean when I wanna be, I am capable of nearly anything, when my heart is broken… (please, please don't leave me)"

Oh, we’re… we’re getting to this section now. [clearing throat] Well, I have to make up for that sucking dick line, don’t I? Get a bit vulnerable. Oh God, why did I decide to do this bit? [muffled words] [bad chicago accent] But why buy the cow? Because you love him, you really do. [sigh, laughter]

Next To Me - Imagine Dragons

"Oh, I always let you down, shattered on the ground, still I find you there, next to me, and oh, the stupid things I do, I'm far from good it's true, still I find you, next to me"

Why did I- I don’t remember putting so many of these ones in.

Run To You - Pentatonix

"I've been settling scores, I've been fighting so long, but I've lost your war, and our kingdom is gone... how shall I win back your heart which was mine? I have broken bones and tattered clothes, I've run out of time"

[Sigh] [clears throat] Yeah. I think we can move onto the next one.

Love of My Life - Queen

“Love of my life, don't leave me, you've stolen my love, you now desert me, love of my life, can't you see? Bring it back, bring it back, don't take it away from me, because you don't know, what it means to me”

I play this one sometimes on my baby grand when we've had a fight, and it's impossible for him to stay angry. He's a sucker for this sort of… formality in romance. God, I wish I'd realised that earlier. If I'd written him a letter in fancy copperplate script with scented paper and enclosed rose petals politely requesting him to bend me over his desk back in the day, it might not have taken two centuries of mutual blue balls for us to figure our shit out. Ah well, live and learn… as it were. [muffled words] Look, I did a whole bunch of vulnerable songs! Now I get to make sex jokes! [laughter] oh fuck off.

#Lestat de lioncourt #loustat #vampire chronicles #dead disasters #my mixes

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ephemerlskies · 4 years

Text

constant craving | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

⇢ genre: drabble series, angst, unrequited love, idiot!jungkook, idiot!oc, basically everyone's an idiot

⇢ word count: 1.7k

⇢ warnings: unreciprocated pining, explicit language, themes of hopeless romanticism (!!), (slightly) unedited

⇢ summary: your best friend decided to confide in his best friend on how to win his girlfriend back after a fight. you tell him exactly what to say to her, however he is unaware that what you were saying was a sincere delivery of your once undeclared love.

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: hello my little loves!! this was definitely ;) not ;) an impulse write and release ;) ;) sorry for being so inactive lately. i've been focusing on myself (i know how cliche that sounds but it's true). anyway, enjoy this incredibly angsts fic i wrote at 2 am for absolutely no reason at all other than i'm an emotional sadist and a masochist. love u!!!! <3

part one: control

He was coming over for the third time this week. Third time. Three times is two more times than he'd gone over his girlfriend's house, but you did everything in your power to convince your inconvincible heart that it meant nothing. Friends see each other more than their girlfriends, right?

It was making a racket in your chest, that muscle that strained much harder for a man who had his pumping for the girl of his dreams.

But, he was coming over for the third time this week.

The first time he said this visit ranked, in his words, 'out of the question' on the degree of necessary that he come over and show you Star Wars. You played a good game of reluctance when asking if it was the entire series or just one movie, and in your head, you hoped to God it was the entire series. For him, you'd watch the series four times over if it meant you sat through this outrageously nerdy movie next to the even more outrageously nerdy love of your life.

The second time was particularly funny to you. He called while you were cooking dinner, almost as if he was in stride with you in a way that was an ounce too synchronized to be platonic, and asked if you were whipping up a delicious meal that he could mooch off of. Knowing he was a terrible cook, plus the fact that when he begged so politely you felt your posture unbind into to a puddle, you more than happily obliged.

This time, the circumstances made it harder to say yes, but not yet impossible. And it was a second or two before you heard that knock on the front door that had your once pounding heart come to a complete halt. It was still, waiting for you to make a decision.

Since it was Jungkook, of course, you'd say yes. And your heart would continue beating. Beating, as in sending sharp jabs that stained the inside of your chest with bruises. Beating, as in when the time came, the final blow of your constantly craving heart would devastate your entire being.

"Thank you so much, ___. God, I'm such an idiot." He walked in with all the confidence of someone who was a bit too familiar with your company. Jungkook's feet reintroducing themselves to your floors in the same manner as he would the night before, and the night before that, and the countless nights you kept secured in your collection of memories. As if he belonged there; as if he was coming home.

"An idiot with a great friend." That last word nearly withdrew the bile you had been ever so gracefully holding in.

"Yeah yeah." And he was comfortable with that same word, 'friend', that deepened your bruises into scars. He had absolutely no clue. Idiot. "I can't believe I broke up with her. I was so angry and acted on that instead of logic. Fuck, why would I do that to myself? I love her."

"Well, you never know. Maybe..." You hated yourself for not resisting the selfish temptation that was about to fall from your lips. The words you've been internally screaming to him to leave her and fall in love with you instead were diluted to something much more tame when your tongue formed them into sound.

"Maybe it was for the best. Maybe you guys are better off apart? To, um, grow or whatever."

"No." He said that with too much certainty and too little hesitance and just enough conviction to sink another wound in the organ exhausting itself in your chest. "She's the one. I know it"

"Jungkook."

He looked at you with all the earnestness of a man who carved his utmost and unchanging dedication to her. A look that any love-induced sap would kill for. A look he would never direct towards you.

Your eyes weren't under your control as of now. The glue that held them to his eyes, his lips, his hair, and every other part of him you dreamed of was more than a marathoned yearning. It was an adhesive twelve years in the making, not showing the slightest sign of wearing away.

"The way you love is something to die for..." And then he smiled at you, but still not for you.

You were utterly crushed.

"She'll take you back in a heartbeat. I mean, she has a brain, so of course, she will. Anyone would."

I would.

"I hope you're right." The couch was four feet wide at most, but there was an impressively vast space between you and the man who was sitting next to you. "Can you tell me what to say? You know I suck with words."

"Uh... Yeah. Of course. Anything."

If breaking hearts were a crime, then Jungkook would have much to atone for. You'd be convicted as a willing accomplice for holding on this long. Up until this point, you've let every small glance, every shy smile he sent your way, every eyebrow twitch conveying a meaning only you knew well enough to retrieve him from whatever awkward situation he needed rescuing from, every accidentally brush of his hand against yours, every purposeful embrace that lasted so long your tears stained his right shoulder string you into a knot of miserable, unrequited love.

And up until this point, you had hope he would choose you.

Each ring of his phone worked in tandem to reduce your undying devotion to Jungkook into a compressed seed of denial.

I don't love him. He's just my best friend.

Your pulse pronounced itself loudly in your ears, as a not-so-gentle reminder of how much you hated him for loving him. Somehow, your heart beat faster. Then again, anything was possible when it came to him. Anything except the miraculous event of him hanging up, declaring his love for you, and living in the land of happily ever after that only existed in your deluded imagination.

"Hey Irene! I'm so fucking glad you picked up."

He gave you that look. With the arched eyebrow, his widened doe eyes, and the slightly hung jaw, you read each feature better than words and nodded to signal you knew exactly what he needed.

"I'm sorry about what happened." You said, in a whisper, though the deflated volume of your words carried no implication of the unbridled sincerity sealed in them.

"I'm sorry about what happened." He repeated, laying down that same Irene-contrived smile on you that fostered a smile of your own, knowing fully it surfaced as a reflex from hearing her voice.

"It might be crazy to try this, because I don't know how you feel."

If the thing people say about your life flashing before your eyes during encounters with death, then you were sure your heart was about to consume its last pulse of blood. The scenes of you and Jungkook spending your Friday nights when you were a ripe city dweller in your shoebox apartment doing everything and nothing at all had convinced you that you were certainly about to go into cardiac arrest.

"It might be crazy to say this, because I don't know how you feel." Jungkook was so many things, however emotionally perceptive was not one of them.

"But I love you. I have loved you since the moment I met you." Those words tasted sweet despite fermenting in a chamber of your heart you kept preserved since, as you said, the very moment you met him.

"But I love you. I have loved you since the moment I met you."

"No matter what, I'd choose you. It doesn't matter how mad I am or how annoyed I am, I will choose you because if I know anything in this damn, cruel, punishing world, then I know that I'd rather be angry, annoyed, or anything else with you than without you."

He repeated your words, but dehydrated all of your sentiment from them. You were left with the remnants of the feelings, and none of the words from him you were so desperately starved of. He took them right from your throat, along with the very breath that seemed to keep returning because of Jungkook, molded them into his own, into a sequence of sounds that were meant for Irene. You were left hungry, breathless, and forever wanting.

Irene must have been smiling right about now. Who wouldn't smile hearing those things from someone like Jungkook?

"Because with you, I'm complete. My story can't end if I'm incomplete. Please, choose me back. Complete me. That's all I ask."

Then, you began to ask yourself another question.

If you make me complete, Jungkook, will my story ever end?

You knew the answer to that. You swore your heart beat in a morse code that told you everything you needed to know.

"Because with you, I'm complete. My story can't end if I'm incomplete. Please, choose me back. Complete me. That's all I ask."

Jungkook looked to you, before Irene could form the proper response, and smiled. It was the third time he smiled at you today because of course, you were keeping track. You knew it was his own physically linguistic version of a 'thank you' or a 'you're a life saver' but somehow, to you, it translated to something similar to a 'goodbye'.

Your legs miraculously rose and carried you to the back porch. The sun was just beginning to dip in the horizon, proliferating a warm orange that was about to subside to an indistinguishable and unpredictable dusk. Whatever color came after the sunset, you were ready to accept it, to memorize how it reflected against a world without the possibility of him. And even though the night will always embody undertones of orange, it was time to focus on the colors around it.

It was time to let go.

a/n: i might make this into a drabble series!!! if anyone would be interested in that please let me know :)) thank you for readinggggg <3

#bangtanarmynet #btsgoldnet #ficswithluv #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts writing #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #bts drabble #jungkook drabble #jungkook #constant craving #rubycoast

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goji-pilled · 3 years

Text

Okay @princekirijo you want an essay? Well here it is now, or as I like to call it Felix's "Asumari is great and this fandom has no fucking taste" rambling and infodump. Congrats fellas, thanks to Prince you ALL get an asumari essay. But before that I'll try to give you a rundown of Mari and Asuka.

(I'm also so sorry for putting this long ass post on everyone's dashboard)

(Spoiler warning for Evangelion 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time!!)

Alright on one hand we have Mari Illustrious Makinami. Her whole deal? She's a walking ray of sunshine, literally lol. Unlike any other character in the Evangelion franchise she doesn't suffer from her trauma, she's quite literally the only healthy and functioning human being, she's just slightly leaning towards "batshit crazy" with the stunts she pulls 🤷‍♂️. Other than that she just loves living, she loves being with people, she keeps moving forward, stays positive and decides to live life to it's fullest even after she experiences loss and multiple apocalyptic events (Second Impact, Third Impact, etc.) and she really just embodies the joy of living. That's all there is to her, or at least all we know.

On the other hand, we have Asuka Langley Shikinami who is... well it's hard to explain what she is to be honest. She's part-German and part-Japanese and part of a line of clones specifically made with the purpose to pilot an Evangelion and later on be used as a sacrifice to trigger another Impact (ITS COMPLICATED I KNOW-) Asuka is, unlike Mari, very much suffering from her trauma. She doesn't have her parents and has a very deep seated belief that she's completely alone, which she says doesn't matter as long as she can pilot the Eva. She also very much wants to fight and kill angels all by herself, and it's seriously messing with her when she can't achieve that.

Now we get to the more interesting parts (hopefully this so far wasn't too confusing, then again it's Eva and even I can't fully wrap my head around it all LMAO)

In the second Rebuild movie (Evangelion 2.0 You can (not) advance) we get introduced to both of them, Mari's introduction scene (in the original English dub) has her pilot an Eva and singing about how she'll take the world on by herself, while in the third movie's (Evangelion 3.0 You can (not) redo) opening scene she's piloting the Eva again but this time it's together with Asuka (in her own Unit 02 though) and during that Mari sings about how wonderful it is not to be alone. It's nothing big yet, but it's a really cute detail me thinks,,, you know what else I love about them? They bicker and they banter and it's genuinely so fun to listen to shskdhsuwj

(For a quick catch up: During the end of 2.0 Shinji (the protagonist) triggers another apocalyptic event, the Near Third Impact, and was only stopped due to Kaworu (the guy in my pfp) stepping in. Also between 1.0/2.0 and 3.0/3.0+1.0 are about 14 years (without Shinji bc he's like comatose) where A LOT happens AND we learn in 3.0 that Eva pilots don't age physically bc of "The curse of the Eva"... honestly Eva is wild lmao)

Okay okay I'll get back to it!

So one thing that happens is that Asuka during 2.0 develops a crush on Shinji (girl why-), unfortunately things take a turn for the worse. Asuka had volunteered to be the testpilot for a new Eva (Unit 03), she seemed happy at the time and it was a really sweet build up with the "I can smile, I didn't know I could still do that."-line. And then? Then it turns out the Ninth Angel had infected Unit 03 (Angels are basically the Kaijus they fight using Evas btw). The thing goes on a loose and Shinji is forced to fight it (With Asuka inside mind you), he refuses and his father uses an autopilot to destroy Unit 03. And boy did it destroy the angel, well it and it crushed Asuka between its jaws (you can actually hear her scream btw haha pain :)).

Asuka survived though, but the whole incident cost her her humanity and she ended up becoming an angel herself/she took the place of the Ninth. But despite that, there's one person who keeps believing in Asuka's humanity, who fiercely believes Asuka is still a human and tells her as much.

Yep, that one person is Mari and she keeps holding onto that belief until the very end when Asuka uses her last resort, which is using the power of an angel (Doing so was a guaranteed death sentence btw). Mari's own words (in the German dub) were, "Princess, you're giving up being human…" AND IT MAKES ME SO EMO GOD FUCK

While I'm at it, Mari and Asuka are a fucking killer combo as a team. They rely on each other for support in combat, listen to the other's orders and advice. Especially in Asuka's case it's kind of a big deal that she so openly relies and counts on Mari's support. Like these two trust each other with their damn lifes!!! Holy shit!!

Guess what though, they also have nicknames for eachother. Mari always calls Asuka "Princess" or "(Your) Highness" while Asuka calles Mari "Four-eyes" / "Four-eyed chrony (idk how you spell that tbh RIP" Even better though, in the German dub Asuka calls Mari "Brillerella" as in a combination of "Brille" (German for glasses) and "Cinderella",,,,Cinderella and her Prince,,,Brillerella and her Princess,,, man, that was a gay fucking move of the translation team. Spoiler: I owe them my life.

Funfact: There's exactly two times throughout the Rebuild movies where Mari uses Asuka's actual name. These two times being when she watches Asuka "die" and be used as a sacrifice for Gendo's selfish plan and when later on she begs Shinji, "So please the Princess… Asuka needs your help!" And the best part? That wasn't even the first time she did that. The mentioned line came from 3.0+1.0, but she did that too in 3.0 with the, "At least save the Princess!" line (although her tone was much more...pissed, like she was really angry lol)

Remember the crush Asuka had on Shinji? Well due to the Unit 03 incident a whole lot of other shit got mixed into that and her feelings for him in general became really bitter (understandably so). Now Mari being who she is sometimes teases Asuka about said old crush but she really does want Asuka to get closure and sort that mess out.

As an example for the teasing, in 3.0 there's a scene that goes like this (please imagine Mari with a literal :3 face while saying that):

"Unit! Are you back in the game?"

"I'm on it, your Highness. But first things first, how was our little puppy (Shinji)? Did he sit like a good little boy?"

"He's exactly the same! Same stupid face talking mayhem!"

"That goofy face of his, that's what you wanted to see? Riiiiight?"

"Shut up! I went there to bat him one!... And I feel better!"

There's also a very short bonus manga that was released in Japan for Thrice Upon a Time's release that has Mari trying to convince Asuka to come with her on the mission to get Shinji, given everything that follows, it's just another thing to prove my point. And the final bit relating to that is this:

"Feeling better now?"

"Yeah, I do feel better."

That's the exchange Asuka and Mari have after they talked to Shinji, it's nothing special but I think it's really sweet and this time Asuka actually sounded like she was feeling better instead of when she was screaming after she nearly broke pretty thick glass with her fist (If she had hit someone with that much force she definitely would've broken something omggg #violentimpulsesgang)

To get back on track though: I already mentioned it but during the second half of 3.0+1.0 Asuka "dies" (and honestly that entire scene is worth its own in-depth post because its just one huge parallel to The End of Evangelion), the point is: You can tell that the loss of Asuka honestly hits Mari hard. Not only because of how Mari screams Asuka's name but also because of her expressions. They're pained, like really fucking pained and Mari even apologizes to her that she has to fall back due to the fact that she's injured AND because eveything is going wrong.

After the events of Evangelion 3.0 these two got seperated from eachother, Mari was with WILLE (the organization both of them are with) and on board of Wunder (the ship WILLE basically operates from) while Asuka was in a Village full of (Near) Third Impact Survivors. When they do meet again it went like this:

Asuka, barely back, comes to the door and calls, "I'm back." And within seconds of Asuka stepping into their room after the door opens Mari already runs towards her, arms wide open and she says, "Welcome back, your Highness! Good job. I missed you so much!" And she says that while she literally nuzzles into Asuka,,,like,,,what the fuck gay people real!!!

Best part? Asuka clearly has enough strength to push Mari completely away if she were uncomfortable, but she doesn't. Asuka merely wanted enough space to look at the room (because Mari managed to horde even more books lol) and play her game. During their entire renunion Mari keeps hugging her, and part of me thinks that perhaps deep down Asuka actually enjoys the feeling of physical affection.

Before we get to the last point though, let me say that Asuka and Mari have scenes in 3.0+1.0 that parallel Shinji and Kaworu's from 3.0. (Fyi Kaworu loves Shinji (yeah, like that, and 3.0 was basically them being gay as fuck for an hour) so like...do I even need to explain?

And then of course there's also this, the "Take care of yourself, Princess…" line. That is the last time Mari talks to Asuka and as much as that line alone already is so much, it's Mari's expression in particular that kills me. Because this? This soft, almost bittersweet expression she has, as she basically says goodbye? Because she knows Asuka will finally be happy and safe? It just makes me feel so much actually. Man.

In the end it's a fact that Mari loved Asuka, wether that is interpreted as platonic or romantic by someone is up to them. But it is a fact that Asuka was loved enough that someone wanted to hug her, was happy to see her, to praise her, was hurt by her loss, wanted her to be safe, that someone told her "Take care of yourself…" Asuka was really and honestly so loved that someone would tell her, "I missed you."

But Asuka? Asuka was too hurt, too wrapped up in her own head to actually see how loved she was by Mari (and other people) that she genuinely believed she's completely alone and always will be alone.

It makes the "Take care of yourself" line hit even harder to me, because it's not only Mari's goodbye, but it's a goodbye during the one time Asuka allowed herself to be vulnerable and admit what she really wanted.

And honestly? All of this? Its makes me feel so many things and I just love them so much man.

#the felix talk #IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG #HDMSGDMDGSJSGEH #3.0+1.0 spoilers

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

What would happen if Jiang Cheng found A-Yuan hiding in the tree stump at the Siege of the Burial Mounds and decided he's going to take in this toddler Wei Wuxian's was raising and raise him, in the memory of what WWX promised to be for JC?

sequel to this aka Delight in Misery (ao3)

“Sizhui?!” Jiang Cheng roared as he stormed into Lan Wangji’s room. “You named him Sizhui?”

Lan Wangji had already long ago become inured to Jiang Cheng’s huffing and puffing. Anyway, Jiang Cheng had medicine in his hands when he stormed in, which meant that he wasn’t bothered enough by it to come yell at him outside the usual time - and that meant that whatever it was, it was no big deal.

Accordingly, Lan Wangji didn’t give the yelling any more thought than it required, opting instead to turn onto his stomach in silent invitation.

Sure enough, Jiang Cheng came over to sit on the bed, grumbling the entire time he undid the bandages on Lan Wangji’s back and starting to spread the soothing balm onto the slowly healing wounds.

“I can’t believe you picked ‘Sizhui’ as a courtesy name for A-Yuan,” Jiang Cheng said, sounding thoroughly disgusted and more than a little disgruntled as well. His hands, however, were as gentle as his voice was harsh. “Sizhui. Was carving ‘Lan Wangji loves Wei Wuxian’ into the woodwork too subtle for you?”

Being face down made it easier for Lan Wangji to hide the way his lips twitched.

At first, he had been disturbed at the notion that his grief for Wei Wuxian’s loss – an endless well of despair, an injury that would never heal – might in some ways be balanced with instances of joy, and yet, in time, he had slowly come to accept it. After all, Wei Wuxian himself had never remembered pain for more than a moment; he would not have wanted Lan Wangji to deny himself the pleasures of A-Yuan’s cheerful presence, the peace of being surrounded by Wei Wuxian’s belongings, the amusement of Jiang Cheng’s sarcastic commentary that was so thoroughly ungracious it could only be laughed at.

The adjustment had not been easy. Lan Wangji was broken in both body and heart, lingering too longer in regrets of the past, while Jiang Cheng had walked a fine line on the verge of true madness, periods of calm interrupted suddenly by grief so intense it manifested as hysterical anger and furious lashing out, his own servants trembling to see it - it was only when Jin Ling had ended up with them, a safe haven for him in his younger years while Lanling Jin sorted out its own internal issues, that Jiang Cheng had started to calm down. His nights were still full of nightmares, brutal soul-shattering screaming ones that Lan Wangji suspected matched his own, but there were now entire days in which the man who kept him company (because apparently “seclusion” wasn’t considered a real word in Yunmeng Jiang, and “alone” was translated to mean “with me”) was a serious, earnest sect leader with a penchant for snide quips rather than the devastated wreckage of a human being he had met upon the Burial Mounds.

They had not been particularly close, before, and their personalities weren’t exactly compatible. And yet, to his surprise, Lan Wangji found that he didn’t miss the serenity of the Cloud Recesses as much as he thought he would, but rather appreciated the noise and clamor that Jiang Cheng brought into his life.

“ – like two drops of water, both of you,” Jiang Cheng was saying. “Sizhui and Rulan! These are people’s names! They’ll have to bear them their entire lives! Do you think when they’re adults they’re going to enjoy telling people, ‘oh, yes, well, you see, the people who named us had absolutely no sense of dignity or proportion, so –’”

“How is A-Ling?” Lan Wangji asked, feeling his ears go red. He had known about Jin Ling’s courtesy name since long ago, but he hadn’t known until Jiang Cheng had told him that the name had been bestowed by Wei Wuxian, or that Wei Wuxian had praised his sect and maybe even him in the naming – it sometimes made him wonder if his feelings, which he’d long believed to be unrequited, might not have been so hopeless after all.

That didn’t mean he wanted to talk about said feelings with Jiang Cheng, though.

Luckily, Jiang Cheng’s attention was very easy to divert when it came to his precious nephew. “Good! His teeth are finally coming out properly, so we won’t have to deal with all that wailing and gnawing anymore – I thought we’d have to lose A-Yuan’s fingers to all that biting before it ever happened –”

“I thought you told him to stop.”

“Of course I did. Did he listen? No. He just looked sad and obedient whenever I looked at him, and snuck his fingers into the crib whenever I didn’t – I should’ve gotten you to give him the order. He actually listens to you.”

Lan Wangji hummed in response, listening as Jiang Cheng continued in his usual manner to update him about the development of the children they were raising – teething for Jin Ling, Lan Yuan’s rapidly swelling waistline (he was almost recognizable as a child again instead of the pile of bones he’d been after he’d recovered from his fever) and the need to start him on physical conditioning soon, the investment of time and effort that all three of them were putting into trying to convince Jin Ling that his first word should be ‘jiujiu’ – and then, from there, about developments at the Lotus Pier more generally.

At first, Lan Wangji had thought there was a purpose to these updates, that he was meant to give some sort of advice as payment for taking up food and resources, but after a while he realized that Jiang Cheng just wanted someone to listen to him.

He didn’t seem to have anyone else that would.

“– finally finished the full set of docks, so maybe the fishermen will stop beating my ears in about it,” Jiang Cheng was saying. “And yes, damn you, your idea about opening up hotels was both very popular and very profitable – just goes to show that your Lan sect’s reputation for being above it all isn’t in any way justified, you lot make money better than the Jin sect…your brother came by again.”

Lan Wangji tensed.

“Stop that! Your back’s bad enough without adding knots to it.” Jiang Cheng pressed down on one of them purposefully: it hurt for a moment, and then released, and Lan Wangji involuntarily relaxed as the relief spread through him. Jiang Cheng either had a very good teacher in massage or a natural-born talent for it; Lan Wangji hadn’t yet figured out how to ask which it was. “He’s still looking for you, that’s all, and it’s starting to take a bit of a toll on him; he looks like he hasn’t slept in a while. I’m starting to almost feel bad about it.”

It was very classic Jiang Cheng, Lan Wangji had found, to orchestrate a punishment for someone and feel bad about it almost immediately thereafter. It was no wonder A-Yuan had him so thoroughly wrapped around his little finger.

“You can tell him, if you want,” Lan Wangji said reluctantly. Telling would mean seeing, and while he missed his brother very much, he was still very angry over everything that had happened. “I do not want the Lotus Pier to suffer for having harbored me.”

“Stop being so damned self-sacrificing,” Jiang Cheng said, and Lan Wangji wasn’t looking but he could hear him rolling his eyes. “I don’t care how much you enjoy it; I for one can’t stand it. Anyway, if my Jiang Sect can’t hold our heads up against another sect’s anger, we don’t deserve to be called a Great Sect. It’s like I told you: the moment he actually admits that you’re missing, rather than being all ambiguous and vague about it, I’ll tell him.”

Lan Wangji was secretly glad, even though he knew it was petty of him.

The thought of how frantic Lan Xichen must be after all these months, the idea of him not sleeping, of him travelling to all the sects to ask again and again if they’d seen him…the thought of it hurt, he didn’t deny it. But it didn’t hurt as much as finding out that Wei Wuxian had died with no one by his side – as finding out that his brother, who knew what Wei Wuxian meant to him, had known and deliberately omitted to tell him.

Just as Jiang Cheng was deliberately omitting to tell Lan Xichen the truth now.

“The sect would lose face,” he finally said, offering up an explanation for his brother’s actions, both then and now.

“Yeah, well, fuck your sect,” Jiang Cheng said. “I picked my sect over my family, too, and where did that leave me? Now it’s all I have left.”

His hands stilled for a moment.

“…except you and kids, I guess,” he said, sounding especially bitter about it in the sort of way that Lan Wangji had learned indicated that Jiang Cheng was having an attack of feelings and not particularly enjoying the experience. “You’re not that annoying.”

That was practically stating that Jiang Cheng would die without them.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said, and after a moment Jiang Cheng continued rubbing in the salve. There was even a brief moment of silence, probably Jiang Cheng being thankful that Lan Wangji didn’t call him out on those feelings. Normally, Lan Wangji would just enjoy it, but… “You could have children of your own.”

Jiang Cheng choked, his hand slipping as he nearly fell over. “What?”

“Children,” Lan Wangji said. “You could marry.”

Not that marriage was a requirement for children, as Jin Guangshan continuously seemed to demonstrate – according to some of the gossip Jiang Cheng had recently reported, he’d recently brought another bastard son home.

“I’m trying, aren’t I?” Jiang Cheng asked, indignant. “I’ve gone on three matchmaking dates –”

Lan Wangji was well aware. He had been the one to whom Jiang Cheng had exaggeratedly complained after each one of those disastrous dates.

“Deliberate sabotage,” he said, because even without having left the four walls around him in months he could figure that much out. “Why?”

Jiang Cheng hesitated, then snorted. “Well, let’s hope not everyone’s as perceptive as you. It’s the agreement I made with the Jin sect to allow me to raise Jin Ling – no other children.”

Somehow, Lan Wangji hadn’t expected that.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. He knew, of course, that there was nothing Jiang Cheng wouldn’t do for his last living blood relative, even risk having his Jiang sect turned into nothing more than an inheritance to be gobbled up by the Jin sect, but he hadn’t realized – that the Jin sect would take advantage of the grief and trauma that Jiang Cheng suffered, the same grief and trauma that he himself suffered from every day…

It made him taste bile.

“Though you’ve nearly screwed that up, you know,” Jiang Cheng said, sounding suddenly amused. “Back’s done, by the way.”

Lan Wangji sat up and turned his head to look at Jiang Cheng. “How?”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Well, given your injuries, I’m the one out there teaching Lan Yuan all the basics, aren’t I? The Jiang sect hasn’t started accepting disciples that young yet, so he stands out. Everyone’s starting to say that he’s mine.”

“His surname is Lan.”

“And Wei Wuxian’s was Wei; that never stopped people from talking, did it?” Jiang Cheng scowled a little at the reminder he’d just given himself; as Lan Wangji had found out these past few months, Jiang Cheng was a master of the self-inflicted injury. “The latest I’ve heard is that I fell in love with some lady from the Lan sect who left her child with me when she died – honestly, it’s a bit sad that they can’t think of anything more interesting. Why would I be stupid enough to make the same mistakes as my father?”

Lan Wangji frowned. Jiang Cheng’s voice was shading near to actual pain, rather than his usual bark without a bite – he had let slip enough about his childhood for Lan Wangji to have figured out that the old jokes about the Jiang sect leader’s favoritism for Wei Wuxian were not jokes at all.

More like an old wound ripped open so many times that it would never heal.

It was no surprise, then, that it hurt him to be cast in the same role.

“You could always tell them that the lady still lives,” he said mildly, pretending his words weren’t hurting himself this time. Maybe Jiang Cheng had a point when he said that Lan Wangji enjoyed self-sacrifice. “Only that she’s ill, or in confinement, and cannot be seen.”

“Not a chance! Like I’d ever do something like that,” Jiang Cheng said, and Lan Wangji very briefly loved him for his immediate rejection of the idea. “Besides, if I say that, what do I do when you do come out of here and claim him? Everyone will think we’ve been sleeping together.”

Lan Wangji politely didn’t mention the occasional night that Jiang Cheng spent huddling by his side, wild-eyed, until the nightmares went away, or the way Jiang Cheng would occasionally lend a hand with certain physiological reactions that Lan Wangji could not bear to deal with himself, turning what might have been a trigger for self-hatred and near suicidal despair into a process as mundane as the baths he still needed help taking; neither of those were what was meant.

“No one would fear that you would have children if they thought you cut your sleeve,” he pointed out, not sure why he was pushing the issue. Even if people did say that, it was only rumors, after all, and temporary ones: when Lan Wangji could walk again, even the most pointed would swiftly fade in favor of ones that slandered Lan Wangji’s reputation instead.

“I’m still hoping to get married eventually,” Jiang Cheng said. “Just – after Jin Ling is an adult. Once he’s sect leader, he can release me from the promise I made. No harm done, assuming I don’t die first.”

Lan Wangji nodded. It made sense, though for some reason he felt some dissatisfaction.

“Though,” Jiang Cheng continued, looking thoughtful, “it might not be that bad an idea to spread some rumors. If I never commented on it, people would never know for sure if it was true or just slander by some dissatisfied female cultivator after one of my horrible matchmaking meetings.”

“It would still affect your reputation.”

“Like I care,” Jiang Cheng scoffed. “Let them talk! If anyone is stupid enough to think that the contents of my bed have any impact on my abilities, I still have Zidian to show them the error of their ways. And I will, too; don’t think I won’t!”

Lan Wangji abruptly felt lighter inside. Of course Jiang Cheng wouldn’t care; he hardly ever cared about anything other than his sect and the children – and anyway, just because Lan Wangji had never told Jiang Cheng directly how he felt about Wei Wuxian didn’t mean that he hadn’t guessed. He had given Lan Wangji Wei Wuxian’s bedroom, after all. “I would never be so foolish.”

Jiang Cheng huffed and tossed his head, then turned to say something that he promptly forgot in favor of gaping at him. “Hanguang-jun, what are you doing with your mouth?”

Lan Wangji allowed his smile to widen. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Stop it! It’s creepy! Go back to being humorless and dull this instant!”

“No.”

“This is my sect and you’re my guest; you have to do what I say.”

“No.”

“You’re worse than A-Yuan,” Jiang Cheng complained. “At least he pretends to listen. I’ll have to raise Jin Ling to be properly obedient.”

For some reason, Lan Wangji didn’t think he would have much luck with that.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #lan wangji #lan sizhui #jin ling #my fic #my fics #delight in misery #accidental life partner acquisition #lacommunarde

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foone · 3 years

Text

Unbreathing Vacuum

I got an ADHD inspiration to write a short DS9 fic off a shitpost about Star Trek-but-all-the-computers-run-windows-98, so I wrote a thing about Odo and the crew's reaction to his seeming death. (This was written for twitter, so it's gonna have some weird paragraph breaks, sorry about that)

Odo is tracking down a Bolian weapons dealer with as many morals as hair follicles when he finally corners him in a cargo bay. It goes south, quickly, as it turns out weapons dealers have access to a lot of weapons.

His Bajoran security officer is laying down suppressing fire as Odo sneaks around behind the Bolian who is trying out a wide variety of strange weapons, colored beams shooting across the room like we're in a deadly disco of death.

Odo reforms into a grumpy humanoid behind the blue man group reject, shedding his Andorian Ice Fox form that let him cross the sea of crates without detection. Odo grumbles "I think that's enough, don't you?" as the Bolian turns and screams.

The football shaped object in his hands that was beeping increasingly frantic pitches drops to the floor, and he dives for it. Odo looks down in surprise, then recognizes what it is, but it's slightly too late, as timers on Klingon grenades are not known for their accuracy.

There's a flash of light and pressure as it detonates, and the cargo bay wall cracks, and the one sound no one wants to hear in a space station begins: the high pitched hissing of air rapidly leaving.

Odo gets to his feet in that uncanny way he sometimes does when he forgets to move like a being who has bones. He simply transitions from a body on the floor to a standing vaguely humanoid form. The Bolian, being closer to the blast, appears dead, or at least soon to be so.

He turns to his security officer to tell her to go call Chief O'Brien, when the hissing wall suddenly groans with the sound of bending metal, and the wall gives way completely. An entire semi-rectangular wall panel is ejected into the black, taking Odo and the dead Bolian with it

The security officer, nearer to the door, slams the access panel and dives through the door before it can finish opening, and rips off a barely attached wall panel to yank on the manual bulkhead release.

The door slams shut with typical Cardassian efficiency, not caring or bothering to check if there might be a limb or two in the way. The hurricane wind of all the station's air trying to escape is suddenly ended, and deafening white noise gives way to the low hum of the station.

Moments later, the crew up in Ops are reacting to the news of Odo's death in almost comically predictable ways.

Kira, the career soldier, is angry. She's seen many friends die in front of her, and she never let herself become numb to it. She's swearing at Odo in ways that the universal translator is so good at eliding, saying she always told him he was taking too many risks.

Just because he won't mind when someone stabs him doesn't mean he's invulnerable, she told him, and he, as always, almost-smiled in the way he only seems to do around her and grumbled about how he'd be careful.

The young doctor is barely holding it together. Kira's lashing out but it's a controlled sort of anger, a way she keeps a handle on the pain of losing people. Bashir, the eternal optimist to Odo's eternal pessimist, doesn't really believe in death, a strange trait for a doctor.

O'Brien is focusing himself on technical issues to avoid having to think about the emotional ones. What kind of weapon could have taken out a reinforced cargo bay wall? Had it been damaged before and incorrect repaired? He makes a note to do a full check of structural integrity

Dax has seemingly no reaction, but that's almost to be expected. You have a different outlook on death when you've died before, multiple times. As a near-immortal you see many people and make many friends, and nearly all of them will die long before you.

You have to learn to accept it, or it will kill you by inches. One of the downsides of seemingly endless life is there's a lot of time to mourn.

The commander is definitely feeling the impact of the loss, especially having had far too much experience with this particular kind of loss before. He flashes back to that time he always, in some way, still resides in...

When an alien force shows up and starts carving your ship into digestible chunks, you quickly become intimately familiar with the effects of sudden decompression on the humanoid body. It's not pretty, it's not as fast as you'd hope, and it's something you never forget.

He maintains his composure, leaning on his command training, and asks Kira to make a list of security officers she'd suggest promoting to Chief of Security. He thinks for a moment, realizes Odo had no family, and says he'll send a note to Dr. Pol

He turns back to go into his office when there's a dull thudding noise, and a sort of faint tink-tink-tink caused by the flexing of glass that happens with even the thickest of reinforced viewport.

He looks around in confusion, and Dax suddenly points at one of the high-up viewports. Floating outside the window, looking only slightly more annoyed than his resting "I hate life" face, is Odo.

It feels like something outside of a horror movie, a ghost floating silently outside a second story window, because humanoids don't just happily move around in the harsh void of space without needing a suit or a forcefield to keep them breathing.

But Odo isn't like most humanoids, after all. He's not a humanoid, for one. He's more a confounding self-propelled pile of goo that sometimes feels like pretending to be a humanoid shape.

This is made more obvious by the fact that he's only half there. His lower half is not legs, but a shimmering stretch of undifferentiated shapeshifter material, in order to hold onto an access handle tightly enough to give him the leverage to knock on a window.

Seeing he's got the attention of the crew, he pulls his hands from the window and starts attempting to sign to them. Kira's the only one with any experience in Bajoran sign language, and the best she can make out is something like "he broke his... Weasel? Columns him... Boat?"

He sighs, rolling his eyes, like only a shapeshifter really can. The sigh is silent of course, but if anyone could grumble in disappointment in the vacuum of space, it would be Odo.

His hands blur together as he shapeshifts them into a new form: a small flat panel, with Bajoran lettering in a large block font, perhaps a little too blocky as his aggravation is coming across even in typographical form.

COMBADGE DAMAGED BEAM ME ABOARD

Dax and O'Brien quickly confer, taking a painfully long moment to figure out how to lock onto something that is neither wearing a working combadge or reads as a life sign. Finally they figure out how to get a lock, and engage the transporter.

The grumpy-looking chief of security rematerializes on the Ops transporter pad, adjusting his "uniform" in an entirely unnecessarily maneuver he long ago picked up in his study of humanoids. He's naked, after all, he just looks like he's wearing clothes.

"Thank you for bringing me in", he grumbles, not saying the "finally" everyone can clearly hear in his tone. "It turns out that you can't open airlocks from the outside, so I wasn't able to come in the obvious way."

O'Brien, still slightly surprised by the sudden reappearance of his "dead" coworker, falls back on technical details as always. "That's a safety system we installed. The airlocks won't open unless they detect a ship is docked."

Kira chimes in with "Yeah, the Cardassians didn't have that restriction, as they wanted the freedom to just toss Bajorans out the airlocks when they felt like it." Odo responds with his usual grunt, a dismissive "pah, you solids and your weaknesses and your squabbles" noise.

Sisko replies "Regardless, it's good to see you alive and well, Odo."

Odo half-nods. "Commander, if you'll excuse me, I have reports to file and a safety lockout to implement. As tempting a prospect as it might seem, I wouldn't want Quark to end up to be sucked out the station's new orifice when he comes looking for his shipment of Yarmok sauce."

O'Brien jumps in with his typical urgency, half-covering up the feeling of "I should have fixed that already, damn" that he's seemingly always feeling around here. "I'll send a repair team down there right away."

Odo doesn't turn as he walks to the lift. "That would be appreciated, Chief. I'd rather not have to walk along the outside of the station again today." he says, punctuating it by activating the lift and descending out of view.

Sisko rubs his forehead. This is a strange place indeed, and despite all the headaches it gives him on a daily basis, he's beginning to feel almost at home in this remote alien place.

This place is strange, the people are strange, the situation is strange... But they're his strange.

Maybe someday they'll stop surprising him. But he doubts it, and he isn't sure he would want them to.

He sits down at his desk and pulls up another of the day's reports, thankful he doesn't need to write that letter to Doctor Mora Pol, for more than one reason.

It's never easy losing someone under your command, and writing that letter to their next-of-kin never gets easier either. But it's a good day when you don't have to do either.

#star trek deep space nine #ds9 #odo #star trek #fanfic

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honey-hippie-harper · 3 years

Text

Successful Parenting

MY DEAREST @the-wee-woo-rita I HEARD IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY TODAY AFGSHAGASHA

I’m coming back from the death just to give you this, because you asked for it some time ago, and agshjaghsj I’m sorry I couldn’t give you something better, I’m super busy finishing HCTTR :’) But yeah, here is it!<3 I translated it from the start because the original translation was awful and you deserved something better than that x’d Still, I really hope you like it.

Rita, you’re super important to me :’) You have no idea on how much your comments make me happy, and I love you dearly even if I’m mostly dead because school’s been driving me crazy afsghjafgsh but yeah, you’re very kind, and sweet, and I hope you know your existence makes me very happy afghjaysu so, I wish you the best of birthdays! <3

Take care :’) <3

Successful Parenting.

Two days after the event, they start calling it The Day of Triumph. It’s only in that moment that Nova experiences that annoying itch people refer to as “resignation”, and she lays in her side of the bed she shares with Honey, with her arms at her side, limp, staring at the mold that grows in the ceiling of a house Nova can’t identify, which is the same one she was taken to while her eyes were folded. They knew she wouldn’t dare to do it, but they still feared she would try to find her way back to Gatlon to go look for Uncle Ace.

The many –and long- hours she spends laying, she feels nothing. She’s so invested in her own pain, that she doesn’t even notice the moment when Honey doesn’t lay next to her, nor does she curl up in a ball and spends the rest of the night bawling.

Even when Ingrid comes into the room and violently takes her out of bed, wrapping her up in a blanket, Nova has no idea of what’s happening.

Her heart is racing aggressively, but she can’t move, not even when the blanket falls into the floor and Ingrid almost stumbles the moment she steps on it. She doesn’t fall, but she does bark a couple of words Nova is sure she’s not allowed to repeat.

And then, among the bumpy ride, she sees them there.

The air smells weird, and these people are screaming, like they always do.

Nova spots Honey down on her knees, hugging herself and shouting up to the sky. Leroy Flinn is standing in front of her, and next to them both, there’s his yellow car.

Winston, nonchalant and chewing on gum, is removing the tube that peeks from the car’s gas tank.

And Honey is just there, repeating the phrase “Make it stop” like a mantra, shaking her head and screaming as if one of her knees was being amputated. Nova stares at her from Ingrid’s arms, still not knowing what’s happening, until she puts her down with such violence she ends up hiccupping.

“LET ME GO! I DON’T WANNA BE HERE ANYMORE!”

“Look. That’s fine by me. You can go if you want to. But don’t drag us into it. Some of us want to stay here. You understand?”

“Leroy, where should I put this?”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, WINSTON!” Scream Honey and Leroy at the same time. For a second, it almost seems like Honey is lucid.

“Geez.”

That’s when Ingrid intervenes too.

“You are such a useless prick. Go on, Winston! Bring that thing over here!”

Nova jumps, because her voice sounds louder out of a sudden, and then she starts walking towards Winston, stomping her feet like she is marching, until she’s close enough to take the tube from his hands and start taking it to the trapdoor by the side of the house, which, Nova supposes, leads to the basement.

For Nova, it’s a scene that’s as surreal as it is bizarre, with Honey knelt down on the ground that way, and all the windows and doors wide open. Then, everyone acting as if that tube thing peeking out of the car and getting into the house was such a big deal.

After trying to connect the dots for a while, Nova decides she doesn’t understand.

It’s only then that she hears a very familiar “Bang!” that deafens her for a couple of seconds.

Frowning and taking her hands to her ears, Nova looks ahead.

In her hands, Honey holds the gun Leroy always has in his belt, and Nova doesn’t need to be any more clever to know who was she aiming at; it wasn’t Leroy, or Winston, or her, Nova.

Honey was aiming at herself.

Leroy throws himself at her, to grab her, while Winston tries to snatch the gun from her hands, and she fights back so much it reminds Nova of a whirlwind. She’s screaming again, and she’s crying a lot, to the point the long lines of mascara are starting to reach her neck.

She looks so sad and ready to die, that Nova knows she should be feeling some type of sympathy for her.

Yet, she doesn’t.

She doesn’t, because bullets were the ones to take everything she had away from her, and the mere idea of somebody thinking about ending their life that way repulses her.

So Nova stares at her with teary eyes while she wishes something would fall on top of her and kill her for real this time, because if she’s dead she will stop crying.

She says something intelligible yet again (probably a very dumb thing) the moment Winston manages to take the gun out of her hands and, for instance, out of her reach.

Now that she’s defenseless, Nova gets closer to her. Honey seems reluctant to calm down at first, but when she stares at Nova she recognizes the features papà got from Uncle Ace, and that at the same time Nova got from papà. Then, she goes still.

Just like that, she becomes quiet, though still breathing like an angry bull and with the tears rolling down her face.

She looks at Nova like she’s an odd being who just came through a portal from another dimension, and Nova feels her entire body catching fire.

There’s so, so many ways to release her power on people...

And yet, she chooses the bad way, and she slaps Honey so hard that by the time she collapses into Leroy’s arms, the palm of her hand is itching.

-.-

The ladder trembles, and Nova holds on to it, even when she feels that, on the floor, Leroy has tightened his grip.

Once settled down, Nova gulps and continues going up.

“That’s it, sweetie! That internet won’t connect itself!” Screams Honey Harper, in a melodic voice.

Stars. Nova hoped it would connect itself.

It’s been a couple of weeks since they’ve moved down to the tunnels, and their condition could be better. However, Nova considers they’ve been managing perfectly well with almost everything, except this...electricity issue.

And, apparently, these people are very dependent from their electronic devices.

It would’ve been easier if they had money but, evidently, they don’t have any; and it could’ve been easier, too, if they had access to any of the public services, but it seems to be they don’t have such thing either. Nova doesn’t know much about that, but she remembers her father explaining some of it to her.

There’s no water or electricity down in the tunnels, nor gas or those type of things. It reminds her of everything she’s been told, about how, before Uncle Ace, Prodigies were treated this way.

The Renegades are gross.

For that reason, and that reason only, Nova agrees to climb up the ladder to steal some power and internet from the fuse box from a restaurant that happens to be close to the tunnels.

It’s not like she had another option whatsoever. Even if she had said no, they would’ve forced her to anyway. She was starting to get used to that.

Feeling her legs shaking from the effort to keep her balance, she continues going up until she’s face to face with the fuse box.

“Okay, Nightmare. Can you see anything?” Asks Leroy.

Nova narrows her eyes and, after analyzing the issue, she concludes:

“Just a little.”

Immediately, Honey enhances the flashlight’s illumination and rises it up to the fuse box, to which Nova nods.

“That’s better.”

“Great. Now, you should plug in the wire you have in your right hand to the ports at the bottom of the box.”

It doesn’t take much searching for her to find them. There’s a couple of available ports, and the fact she can’t stay here longer, to analyze how do they work, makes her really sad.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t make her sadder than what comes next. Apparently, they didn’t took the time to research about the restaurant’s owner before sending her up here, but the very moment a wire separates from the box, in a physically impossible way, and whips her face, Nova suspects that must be an electric prodigy work, who was able to alter the fuse box to turn it into a security system that...does this.

The burning sensation in her face comes immediately, and Nova screeches so loudly she can’t even believe that terrifying sound is coming from her (Because she knows she’s way better than this).

By instinct, she lets go of the wires and even from the ladder, but before a disaster can happen, Leroy intervenes.

“Don’t let go of the ladder, just come down here! Quick, Nighmare! Get down here!”

Hiccuping and feeling ridiculous, she obeys, and when she’s –more or less- five steps away from the ground, she feels someone grabbing her by the waist and putting her down. At first, she thinks is Honey, for the smooth way their hands feel, but once the person tightens their hold, their arms brush against hers, and she can’t help but remember how Honey rips every hair that grows in every part of her body except her head.

Even if she didn’t do that, Nova highly doubted her body hair would be this curly.

So, carefully, Winston places her on the ground, on a sitting position, and Nova presses her hands against her face, still screaming...though, not much time has to go by before somebody else tries to pull them away, grabbing her by the wrists.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!”

“LEROY, ACE IS GOING TO ANNIHILATE US!”

“Hey, little flea, let us see your face.”

“IT BURNS! IT BURNS REALLY BAD!”

“WOW, THAT’S SUCH A TRAGEDY! WHERE DID THIS GIRL COMES FROM!? WAS SHE RAISED BY THE RICH?!”

“INGRID, THERE’S NO TIME FOR THAT!”

“JUST...JUST BRING HER WATER! SHE CAN’T CRY AND DRINK WATER AT THE SAME TIME!”

“OF COURSE SHE CAN! AREN’T YOU SEEING HER?!”

“YEAH, BUT SHE WOULD CHOKE!”

“EXACTLY! SHE’S CHOKING ON HER OWN SALIVA! SHE’S DRINKING SOMETHING, CRYING, AND CHOKING BECAUSE SHE’S CRYING WHILE SHE’S DRINKING SOMETHING!”

“NIGHTMARE, LET US SEE YOUR FACE!”

And amongst the chaos, they get her to do it. Nova stares at them with one single eye, for she’s not able to see with the other one.

They remain in silence, just looking, and Winston runs his finger throught the upper part of her forehead, on a spot she can’t identify. She just knows it hurts a little.

“We just need to disinfect it. It’s not too bad.”

“Eugh.” Honey frowns in disgust. “Will that big ass browless chunk grow again?”

Winston tilts his head to the side, and touches Nova’s brow again, carefully. His hands are so cold she even finds them conforting.

“Yep.” He saids, very casual. “It should grow again in no time. No biggie.”

But it doesn’t.

Nova’s eyebrow gets scarred.

And that one specific chunk never grows hair.

-.-

“Don’t expect other people to respect you just because you’re young. That’s not how the world works.”

Nova gulps and tries to dry her face with her hand, putting on her better brave face while Leroy graps her ankle (that’s starting to turn purple) in some bandages that Lord-knows-where they came from.

“So if you want to learn how to take care of yourself, you’ll have to obey Ingrid. And she won’t have pity on you either, because nobody had pity on her when she was your age. Bear with her.”

That is such an awful advice. It’s so awful, that Nova feels her eyes becoming blurry with tears again, but she manages to make them go away.

“I don’t have to bear with her. In fact, she could break my other ankle and that would be completely fine by me because it didn’t hurt when she broke the first one.” She said, in the most broken voice she had ever heard coming from herself in her entire life. “If she breaks my two ankles, I’ll still have two arms.”

“Mmhm.”

“And two balls.”

“Nova, you don’t have balls. You have ovaries, and you can’t walk with them. Are the bandages too tight on your foot?”

“Can I kick Ingrid on the ovaries?”

Leroy doesn’t respond. At least, not for a couple of seconds.

“Nova, are the bandages too tight on your foot?”

“...It didn’t hurt, Leroy.”

Leroy shoots a glance at her again, mockingly.

“Good. That means you can still train today. Do you want to run a marathon through...?”

“NO!”

“Go to sleep, then.” Says Leroy.

And it’s not funny.

It’s not funny at all.

-.-

It’s a ridiculous backpack. It’s too shiny, too colorful, too…too much. That’s the word.

At least it doesn’t have any of the member of the Council’s faces on it. Though, undoubtedly, she has to give them some credit for their merch-making choices, because the only colorful things they sell are the billion photoshoots Captain Chromium and Dread Warden do during Pride Month, every single year (Ingrid uses the magazine covers to throw darts at them).

Nova respects every fool whose personal taste combines with these types of backpacks, but she’s not one of those fools.

It has a unicorn with mobile eyes, and every time she moves, the little bells make too much noise. As if that weren’t enough, the unicorn’s tail is made out of threads that hang from the backpack.

It’s disgusting, and though the only thing she wants at the moment is to throw it at the trash can, she limits herself to place it next to her, carelessly, and then she sits in the worst humanly possible position one can think of, sitting on her right leg, and putting the left one over her right thigh.

The pigtails are resting over her shoulders, but since the scrunchies aren’t helping at all, she feels as if her hair were dong. Besides, these clothes are itchy on her. What can one expect from an outfit that has been put together to fit with the backpack?

Mad at life, she sighs, and instead of staring at the road, she looks at the opposite way.

Right across the imports market, which is where she’s sitting, there’s a small park. From here, she can see a small group of children playing, while their parents watch over them from the benches. One of the couples has a baby carriage.

It’s not the best park to take your children to, and it occurs to her that it’s so ugly there’s no way this would’ve been anyone’s first option. Maybe she went there with her parents, but, if she did, she doesn’t have any memory of that day.

By the time she hears the commotion, she’s looking at how one of the kids helps his little sister move on the swings. She immediately knows that’s her cue, to which Nova glares.

Here comes Winston, dressed in full black, using a facemask to hide the most eye-catching elements of his makeup, wearing sunglasses, and with his hair looking like an orange broccoli, because it’s tied on a ponytail.

He’s crossing the street like he is the reincarnated Messiah. At the same time, there are at least five cars honking at him, to which he responds standing in the middle for a couple of seconds, before walking like he’s carrying the Prophecy again.

Once he arrives, he removes his sunglasses and glares at Nova so bad she almost believes it’s her fault. Nevertheless, all his chances of winning reduce to dust when he says:

“For fuck’s sake. You know I have a shit memory. If you see I’m walking away without you, you have to scream.”

Nova frowns until she feels that her forehead is catching flames, and throws the hideous backpack at him.

“Here’s your crap.” She tells him. “I hope your blood sugar levels go all the way up to 400 and you get all comatose.”

She doesn’t have the guts to wish the Hi-Chew candies he asked her to steal for him are expired, because it took a lot of sacrifice from her part to put the candy in the backpack. And, after all, she already had to dress like an idiot not to seem suspicious.

-.-

Honey’s relapse into depression is so severe she can’t take care of herself. She can’t bathe on her own, she forgets about basic things, like drinking water or eating, and she’s not even in the mood to play around with her bees.

They’re both staring at her. Nova is sitting on the floor, while Ingrid is by the edge of the old bathtub (which Winston and Leroy stole back when they moved here), running a sponge through Honey’s back. In the end, she stares back at Nova, who does her best to smile at her…or, at least, to put on something similar to a smile.

Honey has her legs up to her chest. She looks spaced out, but Nova wouldn’t say she’s uncomfortable. Thanks to that position, it’s easy for her to see the exact moment when she sighs, because her whole body goes up, and then down again.

“I can sense my time has finally come.” She says. “I’m finally gonna die.”

Ingrid clicks her tongue, and presses the sponge tighter against Honey’ back to get rid of the water excess.

“Quit it with the bullshit.” She tells her. “We need honey. That’s one of the few things stopping us from starving to death.”

“Can you believe that, for a second, I actually thought you were referring to me in third person because you cared about my well-being?”

Nova rolls her eyes, deciding she has had enough of this conversation, and then she goes back to her ball of wool and her knitting needles, taking the last to detach herself from the situation. Life can become boring when you don’t sleep at all, so Nova tries to keep herself busy when she isn’t training or stealing things, following the commands of these adults that are supposed to be taking care of her.

She just wishes she had inherited her mother’s patience. She still remembers the story about how, when she met her dad, she made a very long blanket, saying that would be her wedding blanket, and one day she left the tent for a couple of hours, somebody stole it from her and then, in her words, she wasn’t the same after that.

For a moment, Honey follows Nova’s fingers with her eyes; how they manipulate the needles and the wool, awkward at times. She stares in an absent way until, from one moment to another, she asks:

“What are you knitting, Little Nightmare?”

Nova stares back at her, and lifts the wool square so she can look at it.

“It’s a blanket.” She responds. “I think.”

“Pff.” Ingrid scoffs. “Why does it have that many types of wool? Uh?”

“Pardon me for not stopping to carefully choose what type of wool I’m stealing.”

“Perhaps you should.” Honey says in a hoarse voice. “Because that thing is hideous.”

“…Thank you.”

That’s why, two weeks after that, on Mother’s Day, Nova gifts it to her out of spite.

-.-

During her eleventh birthday, she doesn’t ask for anything besides ice-cream that doesn’t taste like garbage, so, reluctantly, they cramp themselves up in Leroy’s car.

Honey is on the passenger’s seat, wrapped up in the ugly blanket Nova gave her two weeks ago, like it is a cocoon, annoyed to death thanks to Winston, who is behind her in an almost fetal position, with both his legs up to the passenger’s seat backrest. Very, very close to his face, there’s the Nintendo DS with a case that says Evander; Ingrid is staring out the window, and Nova is in the middle, like a very uncomfortable ham.

Nova doesn’t know where they’re planning to get her ice-cream but, at this point, she just wishes they don’t kill each other before they get there.

After a while, she stops trying to guess where they’re taking her, and limits herself to sit still. If they want to take her to cross the gates from Hell, then she will just let it be that way.

At some point, Honey asks Winston, in a very rude way, to get his legs off the backrest, but she’s not obeyed, so they begin having the type of discussion kindergarten children would have in the playground, going all like “Leroy, do something! It’s your car! It’s YOUR car, just kick him out of here!”.

Half an hour later, they finally stop, and Nova recognizes the humid smell, not from the sea, but, more likely from a river or a canal. Then, Winston finally sits properly and proceed to damage his image once again, by opening the door with his foot.

“You’re an animal.” Honey spits.

“Eat dirt.”

Honey manages to escape her blanket burrito in less than a second, and tries to slap Winston or at least poke one his eyes out with her nails but, first: Her seatbelt starts suffocating her as soon as she stretches back and, second: Winston is already out of her reach. At least, until he comes back, saying:

“That is, if we don’t have to cover you in dirt first, you old mess.”

Honey goes berserk. She whimpers and screeches so much Nova feels a migraine growing at the back of her head, and Ingrid starts massaging her temples and threatening Honey, telling her that, if she doesn’t shut her ass she will make that wrinkled face of her explode (which, of course, doesn’t help at all).

With all that chaos going on around her, Nova is barely able to witness the true tragedy. Nevertheless, she’s “fortunate” enough to look back, the very moment Winston and Leroy take the black garbage bag that seems to contain a body out of the trunk, and then they throw it directly onto the water.

The weird sounds she had been hearing at the back of the car throughout the whole ride suddenly come back to her and, suddenly, she doesn’t feel like eating ice-cream anymore.

In fact, Nova doesn’t feel like eating anything in weeks.

-.-

She sees the whole scene from the roof, like a stray cat, attired in the costume they gifted her barely a couple of hours ago. Nightmare’s official costume. Because, of course, there’s no better gift for a child during Christmas.

It is cloaked as a normal, polite conversation, but truth to be told, if it weren’t against the peace treaty, there would be heads rolling. Simon Westwood –The Dread Warden- and Hugh Everhart –Captain Chromium- are right there, at plain sight, talking to Honey and Leroy, who have their arms crossed across their chests, and frowning deeply. The rest of the Council members are inspecting the wagons, allowing, at the same time, Ingrid and Winston to supervise them (Lord-only-knows where Phobia is).

Upon confirming everything’s under control, Nova manages to jump through the structure and stops where she can see Evander and Winston, inside the wagon of the last one.

“You’re not gonna find it, egghead.” Says Winston, in an almost singing voice. Nova can spot Evander on the floor, looking for something under the few pieces of furniture he owns.

He’s not going to find it, indeed. Nova can see the Nintendo DS in his back pocket, inside a Pop Tarts wrapping.

“But if I find something else, you’ll be fucked.”

“And your mom too.”

“If you keep talking to me that way, I’m gonna fuck your mom.”

Nova rolls her eyes, and decides this isn’t worth her time, so she chooses to place on a spot where she has a clear view of Ingrid’s wagon, looking at Tamaya Rae –Thunderbird- and Kasumi Hasegawa –Tsunami- going through her stuff.

“If you think what you’re seeing here is interesting, just wait until you see Queen Bee’s wagon, she—“

“What is this, Detonator?”

“That’s the device I use to pull drugs through my eyes. I can get you one if you want to, Angel Fish.”

“Ugh.” Nova groans under her breathe and adjusts her hoodie, before coming back where she started, to focus on Leroy and Honey.

“I don’t know how much damage was caused by this shooting/explosion you’re talking about, but we’ve been here all night.” Says Leroy with a monotonous, yet calm and almost soothing voice, in a volume that was nor too high or too low.

“Even the Detonator?” Asks Hugh. “How sure are you about that?”

“Very. If Ingrid’s not here by this hour, she doesn’t come back until the next day. So, it’s safe to say we’re very sure.” Honey answers. “Go on and “investigate” other people. It’s Christmas, there are many drunk people out there. And alcohol does weird things to your brain, like making you think starting a shooting it’s a fun thing to do.”

“Don’t you have better things to do?” Leroy asks. “Taking care of that zygote you adopted, for example?”

“Let’s calm down, Cyanide.” Simon warns. “We don’t intend to cause conflict.”

“I see. Well, if you weren’t intending to cause conflict, you wouldn’t have come here in the first place, my little honeydew.” Says Honey. “We’d normally appreciate the company, but it’s getting late. You better leave.”

“We’re not leaving until the inspection concludes.” Says Hugh. “You think you’re very clever, don’t you, Queen Bee?”

Honey laughs graciously, taking her hand up to her chest.

“We find our own flaws in the people who don’t have them, Captain.”

“Captain, just…don’t. Bring the breathalyzer.”

“Stay there.” Leroy said, talking to Hugh. “You’re not bringing anything.”

“And why is that, exactly?” Hugh challenged him.

“Because you don’t have our permission, and you’re in our territory.”

Simon Westwood sighed.

“Mr. Flinn, this isn’t personal. You have to understand this is just part of the protocol, established by—“

“Shove your protocol up your…”

But just as he was about to finish his insult, his gaze finds Nova’s shadow, who stares back at him from the darkness, immutable. Honey follows his stare, trying to go unnoticed, but when she sees Nova, her face expression becomes somber. Nevertheless, Nova can’t think of another thing besides all the insults she has heard coming from them, and tries to think about the most creative one.

Then, it hits her.

And it’s perfect.

“Shove it up where Hugh shoves it.” She says, out loud, and then she jumps out of the scene, just as Leroy and Honey smile at her with so much pride, that Nova feels they could’ve hugged her. Hugh, from his part, turns around like a bull.

“Who said that?! Was it the Puppeteer?!”

“Alright, guys. Who said that?” Simon asks, way more calm than Hugh, even if the insult has been directed at him.

“Shut up, you fucking bottom.” Honey smiles.

Nova has to choke back a laugh upon noticing the way Simon’s face becomes wrinkled, not it a pout, but in an expression of pure rage.

“My husband is not a fucking bottom.”

Oh?” Leroy smiles too, showing all his missing teeth. “So you’re the bottom then?”

“OF COURSE NOT!”

Leroy and Honey stare at Hugh, and their grins almost look like an evil cat’s. From her part, Nova stares at Simon.

And in the moment Hugh stares at him too, she knows that he knows what he did wrong.

“Wow.” Simon takes his hands up his hips. “Wow.”

Hugh rubs his nose.

“Honey…”

“Ow!” Honey screeches. “You’re using my name as his bottom nickname! That’s lovely!”

“Miss Harper, you stay out of this!” Hugh screams.

“That’s what you always tell Simon, don’t you?” Leroy mocks.

And that’s enough.

Simon bumps his foot against the ground and spins around his own toes, already leaving.

“SIMON, PLEASE, DON’T BE LIKE THAT!”

“HUGH! CAN YOU PLEASE STOP TALKING TO ME?! I’M MAD AT YOU AND IF YOU KEEP DOING THAT I’M GONNA START CRYING!”

Naturally, Leroy and Honey laugh a lot.

-.-

It’s a really bad day for Winston to be home. Or, at least, for him to get out of his wagon.

The tea is getting cold in front of her, intact, while she just looks at it. Ingrid’s is intact too, Honey’s cup is half empty and Winston doesn’t even have one because, at the moment, he’s not welcome here.

The way they have chosen to let him know, is by ignoring him, but Nova still directs her best death stare at him, which go unnoticed because Winston is too busy trying to access his brand new stolen computer.

“So, Little Nightmare.” Honey clicks her tongue. “What is it, that you wanted to tell us?”

Nova opens her mouth, but then closes it again. She shoots a glance at Winston, and then comes back to them.

Then, she finds herself going back to Winston.

“Winston.” Nova says, in a flat tone. Upon hearing his name, Winston responds with a mild head movement, letting her know she’s been heard. “Would you mind?”

“No, not at all. Go ahead.”

Nova has to bite her tongue to avoid telling him he’s not understanding anything, but Ingrid intervenes before she can.

“Nova, just...ignore this clown and hurry up. We have things to do.” She says, rolling her eyes all the way to the back of her head.

Maybe she’s right.

Like, she can’t think of a way in which people that literally live in tunnels like sewer rats could be busy. But, after all, Ingrid is the one who leaves the tunnels the most. Sometimes she brings food. Sometimes she brings clothes…things like that.

Besides, she’s not in the mood to dance around the issue for long. For that reason, she just lets it out.

“I think I’m menstruating.”

And after a couple of seconds of silence, the phrases arrive at the same time.

“ARE YOU?!”

“Lucky are the ones who bleed.”

“Holy shit. Monstruation.”

Nova stares at all three of them in disgust, but they’re too busy minding their own businesses. Honey’s smile falls immediately, and she turns to Ingrid, who at the same time is looking at Winston, who’s looking at Nova.

Knowing they’re about to start making it about themselves, she interrupts. Not today. The one having the crisis is her.

“So? What we going to do about it? Are you gonna help me with it or do I have to go and steal my stuff alone?”

Ingrid finally gets the courage to face Honey, who blinks one single time.

“Who’s not bleeding?”

“I don’t know.” Ingrid responded, no hesitation. “Are you still?”

“No. No. No. No. This isn’t about me, you little shit.”

It’s not, indeed.

“…So don’t you go a try to pull that card.”

“You were the one who asked.”

“Why aren’t you bleeding, Ingrid?”

They all wait for the answer, but the answer never comes. And, she has to admit, she’s as surprised as they are, but that doesn’t change the fact this is not about Ingrid. It shouldn’t be about Ingrid, at least.

“Guys.”

But they don’t mind her.

There are more important things to pay attention to, apparently.

For example, the way Honey gets up and crosses her arms over her chest.

Then, after groaning, she turns around and presses her palms over her eyes, and exhales loudly, before spinning on her toes again.

“I need my pills.” She whispers under breath, but not enough for them not to hear her. “Get your fucking coat.”

“Uh?”

“GET YOUR COAT, AND PUT YOUR SHOES ON!”

It escalates so fast, that Ingrid has no choice but to obey. But, even as she’s walking away, Nova can’t help but think she’s relieved. She looks relieved.

Good for her.

At least someone is getting what she needs.

-.-

Nova is trembling on her “bed” by the time Winston comes into her wagon. She tries to ignore him, and he doesn’t talk to her either, but he does place the black bag he’s carrying in his hand next to her. A big black bag.

Then, he sits on the floor, and starts playing with a rubik cube. That’s, in fact, the first time he talks to her.

“I don’t know what’s that thing about wings, and some of them might be adult diapers because all the models on the boxes were girls. I also brought those ghost thingies because they’re funny, and I’ve brought them a couple of times for Ingrid.” Says Winston.

A couple of seconds later, he adds:

“I tried.”

She blinks and gulps, before answering.

“I know. Thanks.”

-.-

As the hours go by, the pain gets worse, and worse, and worse, until she’s shaking even more, and she’s basically curled up in a ball.

Once the sun goes down, Nova hears Ingrid and Honey outside, but she doesn’t mind them. For a short while, she hears them talking to Leroy and Winston under their breath, to then go on with their lives. It’s in that very moment, that Nova hates everything.

She hates the way in which Ingrid has to make everything about herself. She hates the way in which, once again, she’s not coming first. She hates that it hurts…

And she hates that, when Honey comes into her wagon, she stares at her, and Nova can’t help but to stare back.

Then, she comes into the mattress, holding a white plastic bag, where Nova can see she’s carrying some pills. Honey is already in her pajamas, and her face is free of makeup.

As the mattress shrinks beneath her weight, Nova tries to pull away from her but, for some reason, she’s scared she’ll make a mess because of her…situation. Honey remains right where she is, and, a couple of seconds later, Nova feels her hand over her back. She’s very cold.

Very cold.

But she doesn’t mind. It’s relieving.

It’s relieving until Nova remembers she’s mad at her.

“Do you need a painkiller, honeybun?”

And Nova takes it irrationally personal.

“Oh, so…now you care.” She snaps. “Now you care about me. Weren’t you too busy with Ingrid? Why don’t you ask her if she needs a painkiller?!”

With that being said, Honey goes silent, until she just…finishes laying down, and she feels her hand over her again. This time, on her shoulder.

For a second, Nova feels lucid, but all that lucidity is blinded by the overwhelming pain at the bottom of her stomach, and how everything is horrible and sad and everything hurts.

And when there is nothing left, she still finds Honey. When the first tears start flowing from her eyes, Nova turns around, and allows her body to interlock between Honey’s, and accepts her hug. Honey stroked her hair and hummed in her ear.

Nova doesn’t fall asleep, of course. But Honey does.

And even then, they don’t move.

For the longest time, they don’t move.

Two blocks later, Ingrid’s limp gets worse.

And worse.

And worse, until Nova’s own ankle starts hurting just by thinking about in how much pain she must be in; so she tries wrapping her arm around her waist so Ingrid can use her as a human crutch, but in the moment she feels Nova’s touch, Ingrid snaps.

“Let go. You’re short. If I try to hold on to you, you’ll break my spine too.”

Nova rolls her eyes.

“Fuck you, then.”

As expected, it takes them forever to get to the tunnels, and they finally arrive, Leroy’s waiting for them awake, and it takes Winston and Honey less than ten minutes to wake up too, when they hear all the movement coming from Ingrid’s wagon.

Once they’ve arrived there, Leroy dismisses himself from the duty of taking care of Ingrid’s swollen ankle, and throws the ball to Honey instead, who doesn’t complain, but she doesn’t treat Ingrid more tenderly than Leroy either.

Nova watches the scene as she bites her nails. Ingrid’s ankle has gotten so big she can’t help but compare it to a frog, and as Honey pokes it (instead of massaging it) to try to find out what’s wrong with it, the bruises on her skin become more evident.

“I don’t think it’s broken.” Honey concludes. “It’s more likely…”

“Sprained.” Leroy nods.

“Yes. Sprained. Little Nightmare, would you please hand me some bandages?”

She skips the part where she asks Honey to not call her that (Little Nightmare) and obeys without hesitation. After all, she knows where Ingrid keeps that type of stuff. She’s been here bleeding or with injured limbs many times before.

“What the hell happened to you?” Winston laughs. “Are you still this dumb? Really?”

Nova holds her breath as she takes the bandages.

“Actually, no. Like, you’re not gonna believe what happened.”

“Please, if any of the Renegades’ little brainless patrolling units did this to you, just…skip the story, because I’ll get really mad.”

“Nova tackled the shit out of me during training.”

She hugs the bandages really tightly against her chest, waiting for someone, anyone, to say something. It feels like a small piece of glass trapped in her skin and she wants it out as fast as possible. She wants the lecture to be over before it has even started. She wants…

“She did?”

“She did. And it was awesome.”

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the

“OH MY GOSH! NOVA!” Ingrid screams in pain as Honey violently lets go of her ankle and runs towards Nova, who turns around and accepts her effusive hug just because it’s too late to reject it. The bandages fall to the ground as she pats Honey’s back, confused.

“Really, you should’ve seen her!” Ingrid screeches, already recovered. “She was great! HECK, WAS I IMPRESSED.”

“Ingrid, what the fu—“

“SHE TACKLED ME! TO THE GROUND! THERE’S NO WAY SHE COULD’VE DONE THAT LAST MONTH! SHE WAS AMAZING!”

“Sounds like she was.” Leroy smiles. It’s not a wide smile, but still a smile. “Congratulations, Nova.”

Honey, who has stopped hugging her and now has her arms around her shoulders, laughs.

“We knew you were better than that. You were just playing dumb, weren’t you?”

“I…”

“So…she…sprained your ankle when she tackled you to the floor?” Winston asks.

“NO, NO, NO! BECAUSE AFTER SHE TACKLED ME, SHE MANAGED TO THROW ME OFF A FUCKING FENCE! I MEAN, HOW COOL IS THAT?!”

Winston blinks. And for a moment, she sees something weird in his expression. Something…different.

But maybe she’s just paranoid.

“…Yeah. Pretty cool.”

Nova blinks too.

And the only thing she knows right now is that…

Well.

Perhaps she doesn’t know anything.

“Heck. I’m proud of you.”

And Ingrid smiles. At her.

And Nova feels the corner of her lips shaking as they correspond that smile. Next thing she realizes is that that’s how it feels to get it right for the first time.

“You’re finally getting stronger. Next time…”

“Next time I’ll wreck you.” Nova says, her smile widening. “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Ingrid raises an eyebrow at her, jokingly.

“Promises, promises, Nightmare. I hope you can keep them.”

Oh, she will.

-.-

At sixteen years old, a few months prior the parade where they plan to assassinate Hugh Everhart, Nova comprehend they’re doing the best they can.

But she doesn’t tell them that.

#renegades trilogy #dawnie writes #marissa meyer #Nova Artino #Nightmare #Winston Pratt #The Puppeteer #Leroy Flinn #Cyanide #Honey Harper #Queen Bee #Ingrid Thompson #The Detonator #Hugh Everhart #Captain Chromium #Simon Westwood #The Dread Warden

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