#do not open this if youre gonna get upset if someone criticizes your ship | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imreallyhereforkataang · 3 years

Note

hello, i don’t know who to ask about this but i’m new to the fandom and saw that you really like kataang. what’s your interpretation of katara’s glance down after the kiss before the invasion? i’m not a fan of the surprise kiss trope but even with that said, i had thought she liked him back. it didn’t seem like she did at that point or through the rest of book 3, and then next thing we knew they were endgame in the finale. sorry for being a bother, i’m just a little confused (like katara i guess haha)

Hi, Anon! Welcome to the fandom! Hopefully it treats you nicely lol.

Ah yeah. I've seen this talked about a lot over the years. And, y'know, I get it. It can seem a little out-of-place at first since, as you noted, Katara shows signs of being romantically interested in Aang beforehand, and now that they've had their second kiss, she doesn't look too happy about it. As someone who ships them, I initially would have loved to see them happy in that moment, to take another minute to themselves just to share grins and maybe laugh a bit because they've taken that step, put their feelings out into the open, and they're both glad for it. To a shipper, or to someone who's rooting for our protagonist to express his feelings, this does feel like a celebratory moment. I'm taken out of the context of the scene for a second because the pretty music has shot in and I'm still surprised at Aang's move and I'm happy to see an actual, mutual (as Katara leans in) kiss between them.

Then again, this situation is a lot realer for them than it is for me. I'm the viewer, I can hear The Cave of Two Lovers' theme, I can see this being painted in a positive light because we see these two come together for a brief moment, and the narrative is, in a sense, praising that. In-universe, though, it's a bit more complicated, and Katara looking sad really isn't so out-of-place.

Remember where they are and what they're doing, what they were saying moments before and what they're about to risk. For them, this is the quiet before the storm, their possibly final goodbye. Aang is about to fly off and face his destiny, confront what he's been training for over most of the year, "since the day we met" as Katara puts it, and determine the fate of the world based on whether he wins or loses. Whether he comes back or not. And he puts the reality of the situation out there. "What if...what if I don't come back?" It's the threat of that possibility that spurs him to kiss Katara. And she figures as much.

Despite the music suggesting otherwise, this isn't a happy scene (and perhaps that's why we don't get the full score until the finale, because this kiss is only foreshadowing what could be). It's tense, and bittersweet, and pretty tragic imo. Aang knows he could die. He says so. And then he kisses her. And I feel like Katara breaking out into a great big smile in that moment, even though she does have feelings for him, would just seem off. Idk, personally I'm not sure how you (impersonal) can celebrate finally kissing the person you like when you remember that what drove them to make their move just now is the very real possibility they might never see you again. That they're about to leave and face that risk, and there's nothing for you to do about it. Seems like an upsetting situation to be in.

There's also the fact that I'm skeptical Katara didn't already know Aang had feelings for her. I'm not saying it was always on her mind or that she paid much attention to it, she may have been putting all that stuff on the back burner or pretending it wasn't there as much as it was (including her own feelings) to focus on more important things, but I think she at least knew it subconsciously. I mean, Aang's not very subtle sometimes lol, and they've shared plenty of moments. So when Aang kisses her and Katara jerks back and her eyes widen in surprise, it's not because she didn't expect Aang to have these feelings (at least imo), but because she was in the middle of talking and is taken aback that Aang broke the unspoken barrier between them.

They're touchy feely throughout the show. Katara's kissed him on the cheek plenty of times, they've even kissed on the lips before now. They have sparks, and they've been dancing around them quite a lot, from the Book 3 premiere at the latest. But they haven't gone that extra step to put it out there too far, where there's no mistaking the meaning behind these gestures. I think, on Katara's end, she would have been okay with putting off making any official moves for a while, given the war and several other possible factors preventing her from feeling able to spend too much conscious thought and emotion on it, and so she's surprised that Aang's kissed her because they'd been keeping their more romantic intentions implicit up until then. She won't be realizing afterwards or celebrating in her head that "omg, the guy I('ve sorta been avoiding my feelings for but actually do) like likes me back," because she’s known this, but it’s been left unsaid and kept slightly quiet in Katara's musings. Now, it's out there in the open, they're past the safe zone, there's little room for ignoring the feelings anymore, and it sucks so much that they had to make their way there now. It's such tragic timing, a kiss that doesn't stem from a smiles and rainbows conversation where they sit down to talk about their feelings and where they want to go from there, but a kiss done out of desperation, out of the possibility that Aang doesn't come back. Through that lens, it's almost like they kissed "too early," especially for what happens next.

See, my impression is that Aang's kiss was meant for two possible scenarios -- Aang loses and thus doesn't come back, which means there's obviously no future for him and Katara. Alternatively, the day is won, the war is over, he comes back and the world is finally at peace; they can stop running, they can celebrate and breathe and talk about where they're going from here in an environment more appropriate for that. And since Katara kissed him back, it seems like she affirmed that there's something there for them, given he returns. But instead, something happens that I don't think they anticipated. Aang does come back, but he didn't win. So, in terms of Katara and Aang, they're now at a bit of an impasse, a situation that their kiss wasn't intended for, and it leads to this semi-awkward limbo because Aang's still alive but ideally that kiss between them wouldn't have happened yet.

Everyone needs to regroup, start it all over again, keep grinding and come up with a new plan. There's no time to get sidetracked, now more than ever. And, to me, that's reflective of what happens to Katara after Aang kisses her and takes off from the sub.

Katara's reaction is to dwell on the kiss. She wants to, but Sokka reminds her that there's no time to. So Katara snaps herself out of it, and she moves on. And then they survive the Day of Black Sun, but the fight isn't over for them yet.

You asked about the DoBS kiss, so I'm not gonna waste your time hyper-analyzing Ember Island Players because there is a lot that's been offered and discussed about that episode. But if you were to simplify the reason for Katara's stance there, it's pretty much just holding up what was established in DoBS.

At the Invasion, while caught up in surprise because she had an expectation that they wouldn't broach the subject this way, if at all, for a while, Katara kissed Aang back, and she kissed him back because she wanted to. But since then, she's had more time to think, and she won't be so caught off guard next time. Aang expresses during EIP that he wants to try a relationship with Katara sooner rather than later, and that he'd thought she felt the same since she kissed him back (as well as the moments they shared before), but Katara is adamant now about this not being the right time. She fully intends to keep her head in the game, like Sokka reminded her at the Invasion. That's essentially what she thinks Aang needs to remember now, too (and yeah, like I said, there are other ideas that can be brought in that contribute to the articulation, but this is the primary point being conveyed here).

Whatever the reason, her response causes Aang to reevaluate his conclusion about where they stand. Even though the war isn't over, he thought that, because he survived and Katara accepted his kiss before, maybe they could try anyways. But Katara still feels stuck in limbo, and she makes that clear. It's also significant to note that Katara doesn't make Aang any promises about being together after the war, which imo was a good move on the writers' part (I have a wip about this but idk when that'll be done lol). Anyways, Aang backs off, following her lead and putting romance aside.

I do want to talk about the second half of Book 3 as a whole, though, not just EIP. I've seen people criticize this portion of the story in terms of Kataang, but I think that, besides the substance of these episodes, it's important to keep in mind that the last 10 episodes of the series (The Western Air Temple and on) originally aired 7.5 months after Day of Black Sun. Not only that, but these episodes all aired within the same week. It was a big, hyped-up event on Nickelodeon dubbed "Countdown to the Comet," and it took place over the course of 6 days. That sort of schedule for finishing a show is...unusual. But it was also intentional here.

Even though the episodes don't have to be watched that way, the final 10 episodes are, in a way, all together the final big bang of the series. They're majorly dedicated to the most critical elements of the main story, including Zuko finally, after 2.5 seasons, joining the gaang and him finding his place in it. I'd say that The Western Air Temple to The Southern Raiders are most generally about that, about Zuko being accepted and making amends especially to the original three members of the gaang (who he's hurt much more than Toph). The viewer is gratified by watching Zuko do what we all hoped for him, forming relationships with Aang, Sokka, and Katara after all this time, merging our most important A and B plots. The other major things the last 10 episodes are for are the final battle, of course, because that's going to be our conclusion to this journey, and Aang's preparation for it.

So yes, onscreen interactions between Aang and Katara are fewer, but by no means does that make the rest of Book 3 an undoing of what they have. All their setup has been established, we're good on that, and we're going to leave that relatively be for now while we delve into the action until we're ready to revisit. And besides, imo, they still have extremely critical moments in the last 10 episodes that I am deeply, deeply happy exist. They're more subtle and less explicitly romantic -- a lot of them take place when they're not even around each other, but they speak volumes to me about how Aang and Katara have influenced each other, and how important the other is to them.

These 10 episodes are like a refocus of our largest priorities, and Kataang coming together is put on hold (again, I think that benefits the main story) for the end. But even though we watch less scenes where they're together, with more scenes of Zuko joining and hanging out with each of them individually in place, there's hardly indication of Katara and Aang avoiding each other after their DoBS kiss, or even post-EIP.

They're still friends first. What they're avoiding is not each other, but a new possibility for themselves, because right now they're choosing to ground their feet in what they have. Basically, around each other, they're pretending what unfolded between them never happened until, possibly, on Katara's say so, it's appropriate to resume that aspect of their relationship.

And after the war, probably into a few months of peace (based on the state of Sokka's leg), she decided it was. She felt ready, and they dove right in.

I hope that clears things up! And don't worry, you weren't a bother at all! I love talking about these two, but unfortunately I became really busy the past couple days (plus this response got deleted and I couldn't salvage it because I saved a copy of a cursed screenshot of Aang and ig it was scary enough to erase my clipboard history :3). Thanks for your patience lol!

#i hate tumblr it happened again #id in alt text #kataang #kataangtag #atla #avatar the last airbender #katara #aang #irhfk replies #oh yes and btw i have LONG been aware of the other storyboard lol #i have also listened to the official commentary for this ep #the girl is sad for him yk #and she been knew he has feelings for her #so i'd appreciate if ppl would not rb the other storyboard. seeing as it's not canon it's irrelevant to the conversation

79 notes · View notes

makeste · 4 years

Text

literally just a giant post of Bakugou faces.

today, 4/20 (actually it is very much still only 4/19 over here, but to heck with it, we’re getting an early start dammit), is Bakugou Katsuki’s birthday. and as someone who loves Bakugou and who also hasn’t found much worth rejoicing about in April 2020 in general, it’s important to me to celebrate the shit out of this day. but these are strange times and I am le tired, and so what my tired brain ended up arriving at was “just do a post about how much you love his stupid face.”

so these are my favorite Bakugou faces. I stopped after Kacchan vs. Deku because this post was already like 100k words (slight exaggeration) with like 40,000 faces (slight), and because this already took forever and the next 130-something chapters were only going to have about one fifth as many good faces compared to the first 120, even though there are some good ones there still to be sure. but anyway, so there are no spoilers here.

happy birthday Kacchan, and happy birthday to Kacchan’s angsty side profile with his hair covering his eyes.

why I like it: he scured.

lol but seriously. because up until this point he’s just been a complete asshole. even after he gets grabbed by sludgeman, he’s all “AS IF I’D LET THIS MUDMAN TAKE MY BODY FOR HIMSELF”, and he’s all feral-looking, and at first you’re like “eh he’ll be fine.” but then along comes this panel to serve as our narrator saying “he was not fine.” because he really is not. and on the page before this too, you can see how tired and desperate his struggles are starting to get. and absolutely no one is trying to help him. and he’s fighting, he’s straining, but he can’t. fucking. breathe.

and then this panel. and he’s just a kid. he looks so very, very young here, like this is the youngest he looks throughout the entire series except for in his flashbacks, and it’s because all the pride and bluster and anger are stripped away and he’s just a boy underneath it and he’s scared. “you looked like you needed saving.” exactly. exactly. and for Katsuki to actually ask for help is so rare. so you know that when he does ask (and he absolutely was begging for someone to come help him even though he couldn’t vocalize it. credit to Horikoshi for conveying all of that emotion in a single panel), he really, really needs it. thankfully there was one person watching who finally snapped himself out of that “a hero’s bound to come along soon” mindset that had everyone else gripped, and realized that he needed to be that hero.

why I like it: because he’s humiliated and fairly shaken up and also the most handsome he’s looked up until this point, but most of all he’s just chewing his lip and being all “god fucking dammit did fucking Deku really just save me, fuck my life, why is the universe fucking dumb.” like even after this hugely traumatizing experience, he’s incredibly resilient to the point where after he calms down, his lingering emotions are mainly just “smdh this is a new level of irritated even for me.” he is so brave and thickheaded and tough and absurdly, ridiculously petty jesus christ.

why I like it: like the old man said. his face just screams “I’m a rotten thief.”

there’s so much personality in this one expression. and then it’s juxtaposed against proto!Katsuki who I really desperately just want to punch in the face. just. my son my be a dick, but by god he’s an honest dick.

why I like it: baby?? cute baby??? mine?? my baby?!?

he’s just like. “I got it all figured out. gosh I’m so good at life.” that is the face of a child who has never encountered a single difficulty in his very young existence. everything is easy and he expects to be good at everything and he always is and he’s so, so pleased with himself. with a kid that little you really don’t want to go and shatter their dreams just yet, but maybe someone should have taken him down just a peg or two before it all got out of hand. alas. he was so cute that nobody wanted to and I can’t even blame them because he’s just that fucking cute, though.

why I like it: this is a very underrated panel which I think most people probably don’t even recall. it’s from chapter 11 just after he loses to Deku and Iida, and specifically right after Momo just completely lays into him and explains in vivid detail exactly how stupid every single one of his decisions was lmao. and it’s like he’s just had his eyes opened. he talks about her speech later, too, so it clearly had an impact.

there is no pride here at all. initially when I was reading this, I thought he was still shell-shocked. but looking back at it, and knowing what I do now about his unexpected willingness to accept criticism (something I certainly wouldn’t have expected during my first readthrough of this chapter), I think this is also a genuine “!” face as he realizes that she’s completely fucking right. YOU DONE GOOFED SON. but it’s okay because he learned from it!

also look how big his eyes are. when they get all wide like that. it’s so rare that I have to appreciate each and every time it happens. also he has no right to have such thick eyelashes. goddammit.

why I like it: because he’s strongest at his moment of weakness! because he’s upset but he learned from it! because he is such a strikingly human character with such complex emotions and there’s such a lovely mix of them on display here and that shit is my weakness! because this is when I signed the adoption papers (well, had them finalized after I initially obtained them after the “you looked like you needed saving” face in chapter 1, at least)!! because he always cries in front of Deku and doesn’t get embarrassed, but then he does get embarrassed if anyone else shows up! because his emotions around Deku are so raw and out of control! because the intensity of them is as compelling as it is confusing! but mostly because someone showing fierce determination while simultaneously showing intense vulnerability is basically the cheat code to unlocking my heart, and also the best thing anyone can ever draw in a shounen manga. thank you I’ll take infinity of them.

why I like it: because half of 1-A saw this face and instantly thought “fuck that’s hot” and then went “!! oh fuck me” but it was too late! that’s right kids. even knowing firsthand what a trashpile he can be, you’re still not immune to his charms. that confidence, though.

why I like it: the face of a boy who has just realized that holy shit, there are other people in his class. nothing gets past him. his reflexes are too fast.

why I like it: the slow motion (this is such a cool moment even if it’s at his expense lol), and the fact that this is such a weird and totally unique expression, and yet he somehow almost manages to make it look good. actually he does make it look good, let’s be real. of course, this was back when Horikoshi had more time to roll up his sleeves and really get into the art. look at all that shading goddamn.

why I like it: he cares!! he has feelings!! he has concern about someone other than him omfg whaaaaaat.

he’s so unsettled by what he just heard about Todoroki. the guy who was so strong and cool turned out to have an absolutely horrifying shounen protagonist past that he never let on about. honestly this scene is one of the reasons why I’m so strongly in favor of not interpreting Katsuki’s parents as abusive; because I just really like the character arc of him actually having a pretty good childhood, all things considered, but still having all these problems. because sometimes people actually do have everything going for them and yet they still screw up, because people are only human and sometimes you can fuck up (or be fucked up) even on easy mode! and if that happens it doesn’t mean you’re any more to blame, or more worthy of derision or scorn, or that you already had your chance so screw you, or any of that! anyway so that’s just such an interesting and relatively rare thing to explore and so I like it.

anyway. so just, the idea of him thinking of Todoroki as someone who had it made all his life, only to realize that’s not actually the case at all and that he’s actually the privileged one in comparison, just makes for a really great character-building moment. it’s a really big wake up call for him, especially given that he’s so often just wrapped up in himself and his own concerns still at this stage of the game. and it’s a moment that has a lasting impact on him and that he doesn’t forget, and it helps contribute to him starting to learn more empathy.

why I like it: my child is rabid please help.

but he’s so happy to have Ochako prove to be such an unexpectedly worthwhile opponent. she was sneaky and she nearly got him and he only just made it out by the skin of his teeth and fuck yes, that was awesome. he was really ready to throw down some more with her and it was gonna be the highlight of his fucking day. I just love seeing him acknowledge other people’s strength, because we know the value he places on being strong. so that’s a ton of respect from him, and Ochako fucking earned it, and this is just a great moment.

why I like it: just casually spittin facts and launching ships. nothing to see here move along.

why I like it: for everyone reblogging that one scene of shoujou!Bakugou from the anime over and over again, I just want to remind you all that as great as that scene is, we shouldn’t forget that in the manga he can be effortlessly handsome without even trying.

why I like it: as I said above.

why I like it: another one of the infamous “haah!?” faces. whenever he does these that one raised-eyebrow eye always goes so wide, and even though he’s trying to look like a pissed off thug it always makes him look surprisingly young instead.

also I’m not crazy for seriously wondering if Horikoshi’s art peaked all the way back in the sports festival arc though, right?? you honestly can’t find a bad panel even if you specifically go out and look for them.

why I like it: babyyyy.

I still don’t get how anyone could watch this scene and not get that he was way more upset than he was actually angry. he looks like he’s about to cry honestly.

why I like it: MY PRECIOUS SON’S ANGELIC SLEEPING FACE. all tuckered out. he’s had a hard day.

but seriously when you smooth out all of the >:O it is amazing how young he actually looks though. this one panel is shaded in such a way that you can see that he still has baby fat in his cheeks!! he’s just a little boy! HE IS A LITTLE CHILD LIKE THE REST OF THEM AND YOU MADE HIM PARTICIPATE IN THESE HUNGER GAMES AND HE KICKED ASS AND THEN GOT SAD AND YOU MADE HIM SLEEP AND CHAINED HIM TO A POST WHEN HE WOKE UP ANGRY AND TRYING TO BITE PEOPLE. anyways what a whirlwind of events huh.

why I like it: this child is literally trembling. he has been shaken to his very core. also for real though how did Jeanist even do that. anyways great internship or greatest internship.

why I like it: this is from chapter 60, right after he basically declares war on Deku and says he’ll crush him during final exams. then he turns around and is just like AND LET’S NOT FORGET THIS ASSHOLE HERE!!! and his eyes are practically bulging out and Todoroki just has his trademark “!!!” totally blank stare. this panel fully kills me guys.

why I like it: how was he THE CUTEST CHILD WHO EVER LIVED?? look at his little fists?! I can’t even deal with this???

why I like it: I actually like this one even more than the more iconic “the strongest heroes always win in the end” panel right below it, because in this panel you can more clearly see that he was crying quite a lot (he was only six!!), but it seems to me that it was more because of the unfairness of it than because he was hurt. even though he was hurt. but these jerks bumped into him and then acted like it was his fault, and it was two against one and he was much younger than them and IT’S JUST ROUGH YOU GUYS! LIFE IS HARD WHEN YOU’RE SIX! but he’s a little tough guy though so he scrubs the tears away in this very clumsy and boyish fashion because HE WON ANYWAY SO TAKE THAT! he is so little but already so determined.

why I like it: his eyes are just so intense all the time. even when it’s not an intense moment at all. also the dot shading here is so cool.

why I like it: okay so technically it’s the back of his head and not his face. but I feel like the fact that Kacchan was twitching and flinching and shaking too doesn’t get enough attention in this scene. he and Todo were both wigging out here and I love it. during the third light novel he also gets freaked out by the whole Disney Channel “we were telling a ghost story but now it seems like the story has come to life” plot that goes on at one point, just fyi. Kacchan is absolutely that kid who will refuse to watch scary movies just because “they’re dumb” and definitely NOT because he is scared, how fucking dare you sir.

why I like it: because this is the first of many scenes in this arc and the next arc in which he is freaking out but doing an excellent job of covering it up with his natural ferocity. he and Shouto have just come across one of their classmates’ arms lying in the middle of the path being chewed on by a villain in a straitjacket. his first reaction is to ask Shouto which of their classmates had been out on the path in front of them. he has immediately put two and two together, and he is immediately ready to throw hands with this dude, rules or no rules. but you can see the shading over his eyes though, and I think that -- along with the sweat visible on his face -- is a huge indicator of how horrifying this actually is to him.

why I like it: because this blank “processing...” expression that he sometimes gets when a lot of people are talking at once and he’s not really sure but he is pretty sure that he doesn’t like where this is heading, is my favorite.

why I like it: because even now it’s still ambiguous just what exactly was the prevailing emotion in these eyes and this expression, and the prevailing sentiment behind the “stay back.” I happen to think it was fear! not the same overwhelming, helpless fear as the 14-year-old who was caught up in the sludge, but a very on-edge, controlled-panic fear of a 16-year-old who’s trying to remain in control because he’s a hero in training now. and I think the “stay back” is the “stay back” of a boy who knows the look in that other boy’s eyes, and knows that it’s no use this time. it’s not protective, and it’s not hostile or defensive either. it’s just... resigned. don’t do it, Deku. that could have been the last thing he ever said to him, and it was measured and brave even through his fear and I love him so much.

why I like it: this is one which has to be viewed in juxtaposition with the panel immediately above it lol. Tomura looks like he could literally stare a man to death with those crazy eyes, and Kacchan is comparison just looks so ridiculously young and small and out of his league. but he doesn’t crack. but his eyes are super wide and even the shadows underneath them are stressed almost to their breaking point. like I’m screwed I’m screwed I’m so goddamn fucking screwed oh shit. my baby, guh. this was such a fucking scary experience though for real??

why I like it: same deal as above lol. this whole situation just keeps getting worse and worse, and here he’s just probing for more information while simultaneously trying to buy himself more time to think of a miracle plan. there really isn’t much chance of him getting out of here unscathed at this point (or at least there wouldn’t have been if the heroes hadn’t shown up), but I don’t think he’s letting himself think about that yet. but I’m sure it’s there at the back of his mind all the same.

why I like it: this is my favorite Bakugou face ever. SO MANY EMOTIONS. All Might came to save him! his hero!! he beat the bad guys (or so they think for that brief moment anyway) and it’s all okay now! he was alone but now he’s not anymore and All Might is there! and he is relieved, and he actually lets his guard down to show it for just a split second! his lip is trembling! I don’t think he even realizes for a moment, and then he does, and he immediately goes all tough guy again and the moment is gone! but while it’s there! it’s so much! I have never so badly wanted to hug a fictional character in my life.

why I like it: don’t you think this person could one day inspire thousands of others. do you see this courage in those eyes. the way he pushes past fear and panic and fatigue. don’t think, don’t doubt. just win.

why I like it: by now you have probably detected a pattern of me liking all of the Kamino faces because he was going through so many emotions that for once the walls just couldn’t keep up. he always looks so much younger when he’s not making >: faces. everything just smooths out. I also like that Horikoshi never makes his expressions symmetrical; he almost always has one eye wider than the other, eyebrows doing different things, stuff like that.

also this is when he sees All Might’s true form for the first time, and you can just see it hit him like a punch to the gut. All Might weakened; All Might weakened because of him; All Might might lose (!?!); All Might might die???? Katsuki’s entire world is falling apart in an instant, and in this moment he’s just a little boy.

why I like it: it beginsss. the angstening.

he’s not even resisting the hand guiding him. none of his usual unruliness or general aura of barely-checked rage. he just looks tired. and completely lost in his own thoughts. which as we now know were not good. I cannot fucking believe we had to wait another 25 chapters after this to finally get this kid a damn hug.

why I like it: because Bakugou Mitsuki is fulfilling my (and dating sim!Momo’s) lifelong dream of ruffling Bakugou Katsuki’s (spiky yet fluffy!!) hair. and all he can do is just chew his lip and halfheartedly glare at her all “mooooooOOOOmmm.” he doesn’t even really look pissed off here (because it’s hard to be mad when someone is talking about how worried they were about you and how relieved they are that you’re safe now, especially when that someone is your mom who isn’t normally the type to be so open about this kind of stuff at all), just begrudgingly grumpy. and I swear to god his bottom lip is made of fucking rubber the way he moves it around, just look at it.

why I like it: those eyelashes though!?!? [grabs Katsuki by the shoulders and shakes him roughly] WHY ARE YOUR EYES SO PRETTY.

why I like it: this is right after he found out he flunked the license exam, and you can see how upset he is. obviously we now know that shortly thereafter he went and had a complete meltdown. and buddy if you keep grinding your teeth like that, your dentist is also going to have a meltdown.

and yet again Horikoshi manages to strike this uncanny balance between making him look pissed off and making him look like he’s trying very, very hard not to cry. he just failed, again. it’s like the whole world is screaming at him over and over again that he’s not hero material at all.

why I like it: because he drags Deku out to the middle of nowhere and is all “I know you have All Might’s power and we’re gonna fight”, and Deku protests, and you expect Kacchan’s reaction to be just about anything other than what it actually is. this is as close to pleading as Katsuki is ever going to get. he may not be drowning in sludge but he is still desperate.

why I like it: this may be the best Katsuki that Horikoshi has ever drawn.

why I like it: super ultra mega unpopular opinion: I like this panel even more than THE PANEL!! that follows shortly after it. I am a sucker for when Horikoshi does this thing where he shows Katsuki’s face from a side profile, and his eyes are covered by his hair so you can’t see his full expression, but you know it is something vulnerable because he only ever does this when Katsuki is trying to hide his vulnerability. I could make a whole separate post just about these hair-covering-eyes faces lol. but out of all of them this is my absolute favorite. I can hear Okamoto’s voice acting in my head just looking at it.

why I like it: because it is THE PANEL. he finally broke completely; he let the walls fall away; he couldn’t hide it any longer. he’s so unbelievably torn up about this; he hates himself for it and feels like a failure; he’s lost and doesn’t have the faintest idea how to find his path again. he ended the Symbol of Peace. he was weak and wrong, and Deku was strong and right, and he can’t even hate Deku for it anymore, he just wants to understand what it is that he keeps doing wrong, why it is that he keeps failing.

why I like it: it’s, uuuuuh, angst.

lol it’s funny because at the beginning of the series, it was always Deku who was always crying at the drop of a hat. and to be fair this is still true. but Katsuki also cries way more than I would ever expect a rival character in a shounen manga to cry. and specifically he has cried every single time he’s had a dramatic and overly emotional altercation like this with Deku (and that’s three separate times now). is it because he’s always felt like he has less to hide around Deku? or because his Deku Emotions are so much more intense and volatile than his other emotions? at any rate, whatever it is, if this happens one more time (and I guarantee you it will too because A Certain Someone still hasn’t officially made an apology yet) he will officially lose all authority to ever call Deku out for being a crybaby again. meanwhile poor All Might will just be beside himself. I’m sorry dude, both of your children are just like this, you just gotta deal with it and accept their feelings.

why I like it: HE FINALLY GOT HIS HUG, BLESS.

and more hair covering his eyes! and chewing of the lip! and his head is bowed so much here, he fully allowed himself to be pulled into this hug and to accept this gesture of comfort for once in his life, just for a moment! after everything he was feeling, everything he was beating himself up over, All Might comes and tells him it’s not your fault. and there’s still so much guilt there, but he needs to hear this so badly that he accepts it all the same. meanwhile he is also CRYING AGAIN!? because this was the chapter where Horikoshi said “I am going to put all of the angst and cathartic conflict resolution into a single fight and it’s going to be the best thing ever” and it really was. do you even understand how much I love this. do you??

why I like it: OH GOSH I FORGOT ABOUT THIS, THIS IS MY OTHER FAVORITE KATSUKI HAIR-COVERING-EYES PANEL.

oh no. he’s ruffling his own spiky fluffy hair. he’s tired and he’s beat up (and whose fault is that lmao) and he’s learning all kinds of new things about himself today. he’s got basically nothing left in the tank, but for the first time in ages he has his path laid out in front of him again and he knows the way to start moving forward. he has been absolved of his guilt, the guilt which was eating a hole away inside of him. and all of a sudden he realizes -- it occurs to him -- hey, All Might finally admitted it, he really did give his power to Deku. but it’s still a secret though, isn’t it? it’s important, isn’t it? and so he tells them, hey, look, I get it, I won’t say anything, you don’t have to worry. it’s partially gratitude -- he owes so much to All Might and it’s ridiculous, that’s a fucking debt right there, and this is the least and only thing he can offer right now in return -- and it’s partially just... the right thing to do. like, common sense. honorable and shit. and it’s not like it’s a big deal or anything. but just, let them know.

I love his side profile so much and I love his hair and his ear and the scuffs on his face and his beaten up hand and his hunched up shoulders and him being soft and trying not to show how soft he’s being and he is precious.

BONUS:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY HANDS IN POCKETS GRUMPY TRIANGLE EYES ROVING FERAL HOG SON, I LOVE YOU.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #makeste reads bnha #HEAVEN #MUST BE MISSIN' AN ANGEL #MISSIN' ONE ANGELLLL CHILDDDD #[camera pans over to the feral toddler digging through trash while I sigh in fondness]#bnha meta #bakugou meta

479 notes · View notes

fandomrewrites · 3 years

Text

Chasing Butterflies: Day Trip

Hello all! Sorry for the late update but I’ve been pretty busy today. As always I hope you all enjoy this chapter and constructive criticism is welcomed. Let me know if you want to be added to any of my taglists or if you have any requests.

Season 1; Episode 8: Day Trip Pairings: OC x OC Best Friends, no love interests chosen yet Warnings: swearing, character death, guns, being high Word Count: 3,435

Season 1 Masterlist

Clarke and Nova sit in on a council meeting using the video chat that Raven set up. Chancellor Jaha turns to address the girls, "Tell me about the Grounder. Can he provide any insight on how to survive winter?"

Nova loudly scoffs but allows Clarke to answer, "We're doing everything we can to prepare here. We're gathering nuts and berries, curing meats, digging for roots, but the truth is, we'll freeze before we starve."

Marcus speaks up, "There's good news on that front. According to civil plans from before the war, there's an old emergency aid depot not far from the landing site. Here are the coordinates." He sends the girls the coordinates as he finishes speaking.

"How do you know this place is still intact?" Nova asks.

"It was designed to withstand nuclear warfare."

"Alright, it's worth a shot." Clarke sighs.

"Chancellor, I have to object." Diana starts, causing Nova to roll her eyes. "Project Exodus is under way. The kids should sit tight in their camp until the first dropship launches."

"Listen lady, nothing you say or do is going to stop us from doing whatever the hell we want down here." Nova glares.

"Nova." Marcus starts to scold.

"What Marcus? What are you going to do? Try to send us to our deaths again?"

Jaha raises his hand to stop the argument, "Even if everything goes without a hitch, the hundred would die from exposure before relief arrives. I'd like a moment alone with Clarke and Nova, please, and I know there is a line of parents waiting to talk to their kids."

He waits for the council to filter out of the room then continues, "We are all very proud of what you two have done down there." He pauses, "Your parents."

"I don't want to talk about my mother." Clarke says.

At the same time Nova says, "I don't want to talk about my father."

"Please, it's time to forgive them. Let me schedule a time for you." Jaha tries to reason.

"I'm done with this conversation." Nova interrupts. She pulls off the headset and stands up, turning on her heel to leave the tent.

Nova moves to her tent, grabbing a bag and her bow. As she waits by the camp gates for Clarke she eats some of the nuts that the group has collected.

After a few minutes Clarke and Bellamy walk up to Nova. "You're coming too?"

"Don't sound too upset." Bellamy says with a smirk.

The petite brunette rolls her eyes and turns around, "Let's go." She says over her shoulder.

*_*_*_*_*_*

As Elara was practicing with her bow she heard her name get called. She turned around to see Atlas walking towards her, "Hey. Your parents are waiting for you."

"I said I would go last." Elara states.

Atlas shakes his head, a smile growing on his face. "Elara go. We both know you've been dying to talk to them. And you do so much for all of us, you shouldn't have to wait any longer."

Elara quickly pulled the boy into a tight hug, "Thanks Atlas." She let go and ran off before he had the time to react.

Elara makes her way into the empty communications tent. She sits down, smiling when she sees her parents. She pulls on the headset, "Hi guys."

"Look at you! I've missed you so much!" Celeste exclaims.

"I've missed you both too! I was so nervous that I wouldn't see you guys again. Are either of you coming down on the Exodus ship?"

"No, it's going to be mainly guards to help with the Grounders. And Abby and Marcus of course." Jacopo replies.

Elara nods but both of her parents can tell she's slightly upset, "Hey, cheer up. We'll be there sooner than you know it." Celeste smiles at her daughter, which causes the teenager to smile back.

"How have you been down there anyways? Staying out of trouble?" Jacopo asks.

"Of course. You know me, I just want to help people." Elara states.

"Yes, but helping people is also what got you sent down there." Celeste scolds.

"And I still want you to be able to protect yourself, Elara. The Grounders are dangerous." Jacopo says, concern lacing his voice.

"Trust me, I know. But I'll be fine. I've been helping with the medical things and Nova made me a bow and arrows." Elara smiles, she holds up the bow to show her parents.

They both laugh, "Just like Robin Hood." Celeste gently shakes her head.

"I'm getting really good at it too."

Not getting the chance to reply, a voice on the Ark interrupts, "Time's almost up."

Jacopo and Celeste nod then turn back to Elara, "We love you and miss you so much. Please stay safe down there, okay?" Jacopo says.

"I will and I'll see you guys soon. I love you." Elara blows a kiss to the screen, her parents returning the gesture.

"Fox is next." Celeste says, looking down at the list that says which delinquents still needed to talk with their loved ones. Elara nods, waves one last time then stands up to look for Fox.

*_*_*_*_*_*

As Nova, Clarke and Bellamy trek through the woods Clarke breaks the silence, "You know, the first dropship is gonna come down soon. Pretty sure you can't avoid Jaha forever."

"I can try." Bellamy states.

Clarke sighs, "The depot is supposed to be around here somewhere. There's got to be a door." She pauses then turns to address Bellamy one more time, "Maybe he'll be lenient."

"Look. I shot the man, Clarke. He's not just gonna forgive and forget. Let's split up, cover more ground." Bellamy glances at Nova, watching as she walks further away. He shouts to make sure he's heard, "Stay within shouting distance!"

Nova waves a hand, indicating that she heard him. She has her bow clenched tightly in her hands as she scans the area around her, looking for any threats or a door to the depot.

After a few minutes of surveying the land Nova hears Clarke call, "Nova, Bellamy. Over here. I found a door." Nova quickly makes her way to Clarke to see Bellamy and Clarke pulling open a door.

Once she is beside the other two Bellamy looks at the girls, "Really think this place hasn't been touched since the war?"

"A girl can dream. Come on." Clarke mumbles out.

"This is disgusting." Nova states, scrunching up her face when she nearly trips over a human skeleton.

"Hell of a place to die." Bellamy says, grabbing a hold of Nova's arm so she doesn't faceplant.

"So much for living down here." Clarke says, disappointment laced in her voice.

"It doesn't look like there's anything left down here." Nova states looking around.

"They must have distributed most of the supplies before the last bombs went off." She pauses as she opens up a container. "Hey, I found blankets."

"Excited about a couple of blankets?" Bellamy asks.

"It will help keep us warm during the winter. We may need to move everyone out of the tents and into the dropship at night. It will be crowded but the walls and so many people will help keep us warm." Nova says as she checks another barrel, finding more blankets.

Bellamy groans, frustrated. "How about a canteen or a med kit or a decent fucking tent?" He kicks another barrel over. The top pops off and guns and grease spill out.

Nova lightly laughs, "Jackpot."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Elara sits on the bottom level of the dropship, sorting through what little medical supplies the group has. She makes a mental note to get more of the seaweed they used on Jasper.

She looks up as someone walks through the door. Octavia smiles at her then continues to the top floor. She's not even up there a minute before she makes her way back down.

"Hey, E. I think I'm going to need your help."

"With what?" Elara asks, looking up at the brunette.

"The nuts we collected. They're making people hallucinate." Elara's mouth falls open.

"Okay." She pauses, "Well let's make sure everyone is calm and safe. We'll have to make sure nobody is eating anymore of the nuts." Elara stands up, "We can also start burning the nuts, there's no need for them to be here anymore."

Octavia nods as the two girls step out of the drop ship, "I'll start on this side and you can go the other way. Meet in the middle." Elara nods in agreement. The two girls separate, heading in opposite directions.

Atlas quickly spots Elara heading in her direction. "Wow, you look beautiful." He says to her, a lopsided smile lighting up his face.

Elara smiles back, "Thanks. How are you feeling?"

"Grrreaaattt." Atlas says, leaning closer to his ex.

"Have you been eating these nuts?" She asks, placing her hands on his shoulders to keep him from tipping over.

"Mhm, they're really good. I do feel a little weird though."

Elara nods and wraps his arm around her shoulder, "How about we bring you to your tent? You can take a nap and I'll give you some water. You should feel better in no time."

As Elara gently helps Atlas sit on his bed, the male looks up at her, "You know I fucked up when I lost you. You were the best damn thing that ever happened to me."

Elara bites her lip, "If you remember this conversation and want we can talk about it later, but right now isn't the time."

"Do you still love me?"

"I'll always love you Atlas." Elara replies without hesitation.

Atlas smiles as his eyes start to close, "I'll always love you too." Elara sighs and blinks back the tears forming in her eyes. She takes a minute to calm herself then steps out of the tent. She quickly brings him some water and leaves it next to his bed so he can have some when he wakes up. She then moves on to help the next person.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Bellamy and Nova both reach down to pick up a gun. "This changes everything. No more running from spears." He holds out a gun for Clarke, "Ready to be a badass, Clarke?"

She hesitantly takes it, "Look. I'm not gonna fight either of you on bringing guns back to camp. I know we need them, but don't expect me to like it."

"We're lucky the rifles were packed in grease. The fact that they survived means we're not sitting ducks anymore. You need to learn how to do this."

As Clarke and Bellamy talk Nova bends down to start cleaning the grease from the guns as best she can. She turns briefly to see Bellamy try to shoot at a blanket that they hung up for target practice. "My bullets are duds. Try yours."

Clarke shoots the blanket then laughs, "That was amazing. Am I horrible for feeling that?"

"Try again." Bellamy replies.

"No. We shouldn't waste the ammunition."

"People are going to need practice. when we bring the guns back. That includes you." Nova states, looking into another barrel.

"We need to talk about how we're gonna keep guns around camp, where are we gonna keep them, and who has access." Clarke says.

Bellamy ignores her and takes a shot at the blanket. "You left Miller in charge of the grounder. You must trust him."

Bellamy nods, "You both should keep him close. The others listen to him."

"We should keep him close?" Nova asks, kitting her eyebrows together in confusion.

"What's going on? You've been acting weird all day." Clarke continues. "All the rations you took. You're gonna run. That's why you agreed to come with us. You were gonna load up on supplies and just disappear."

"I don't have a choice. The Ark will be here soon." Bellamy states.

"What about Octavia?" Nova asks.

"She hates me. She'll be fine."

Nova rolls her eyes, "She doesn't hate you. She's your sister. She's just angry with you. There is a difference."

Bellamy shakes his head, "I shot the chancellor. They're gonna kill me. Best-case scenario, they lock me up with the Grounder for the rest of my life and there's no way in hell I'm giving Jaha the satisfaction. Keep practicing. I need some air."

The two girls exchange a look as he leaves. "I'm going to head this way and check for some more guns and blankets. I'll be back in five minutes tops. Take a few more shots." Clarke nods and watches as Nova heads down a hall.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Back at the camp Elara takes her time making sure the delinquents are safe. Finn and Raven have since emerged from their tent to help though Elara made sure that Finn's main task was to burn the jobi nuts so he didn't do too much and risk injuring himself further.

"Hey Harper, how are you feeling?" Elara asks sitting down next to her old cellmate.

"Hmm." Harper hums. She slightly sways to music only she can hear. "I feel a little funny, but good." She pauses, "Yeah, really good."

Harper's eyes stay closed as she talks to Elara. "Have you been drinking water like I asked?"

Harper nods making Elara continue, "Good. Remember to stay here and keep drinking. I need to check on everyone else."

Harper nods once more as Elara stands up to head to another part of the camp. As she makes her way to the wall she makes eye contact with the grounder. "How did you-" She cuts herself off already knowing the answer, "Octavia."

The grounder just stares at her, unsure of what to do. "Well, go quickly. Before anyone else sees you. Though of course they'd probably think they were hallucinating. Be careful, okay?"

The grounder nods in thanks then continues out of the camp.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Nova looks up from a barrel filled with blankets when she hears a noise. "Clarke?" Not hearing anything back she hesitantly walks in the direction. Her eyes meet the face of councilman Abraham.

She gasps, "You're dead."

Jericho laughs, "Yes, but you should know by now darling, you can't get rid of me that easily."

Nova clenches her jaw, "You may haunt my dreams but you got what you deserved. Hell I should have tortured you longer."

The man smirks as he looks down at the petite girl. "You know you grew up to look even more beautiful."

Nova tightens her hands into fists. She squeezes her eyes shut and quietly starts to mutter, "Get out of my head. You aren't here. You aren't real."

"Come on now darling, I'm more real than you may think."

Nova starts lightly pulling at her hair, "Shut up, shut up, shut up." She mumbles over and over. Her quiet mumbles drown out the sound over Jericho. After about a minute of silence she slowly peels her eyes open.

She sighs in relief when the man is nowhere to be found. She bends down to pick up her bow and arrow that she discarded when Jericho showed up. Once she makes it to Clarke, she sees the blonde knocked out on the floor.

Rushing over she begins to shake her shoulder, "Clarke get up." As soon as the blonde's eyes flutter open Nova asks, "What happened?"

Clarke blinks and shakes her head, "I-I hallucinated then Dax showed up and knocked me out."

"Dax?" Nova asks in disbelief.

Clarke nods, "We need to find Bellamy."

Nova helps her up from the floor. Clarke picks up a gun then the two girls head out of the depot. "Split up, don't stray too far though." Clarke nods then heads away from Nova.

After a few moments, Nova circles back around and runs in the direction that she can hear fighting happening. When she makes it to the clearing in the woods she sees Dax on top of Bellamy, strangling him.

Nova aims her bow and shoots. The arrow lodges into the side of Dax's neck. He tips over dead, Bellamy pushing him off of his body. He sits up gasping for breath.

Emotionlessly Nova walks over and holds out a hand helping Bellamy up. The two move over towards Clarke who has propped herself up against a tree.

The three sit in silence for a few minutes before Clarke decides to speak, "You're okay."

"No I'm not." Bellamy chokes out, "My mother... If she knew what I've done, who I am. She raised me to be better, to be good. All I do is hurt people. Elara was right, I am a monster."

"You saved someone today." Clarke begins, arguing with the boy. "You may be a total ass half of the time, but I need you. We all need you. None of us would've survived this place if it wasn't for you."

"I would have." Nova pipes in. Clarke turns to glare at her. "What? I'm just speaking the truth. But Clarke does have a point. The others trust you. They look to you when they need guidance."

Clarke continues, "You want forgiveness, fine, I'll give it to you. You're forgiven, okay, but you can't run, Bellamy. You have to come back with us. You have to face it."

"Like you both faced your parents?" Bellamy challenges.

"You're right. I don't want to face my mom or Nova her dad. All I think about every day is how we're gonna keep everyone alive, but we don't have a choice."

"Jaha will kill me when he comes down."

"Not if you explain why you needed to come down and everything you've done since to help us stay alive. Plus Clarke and I will both vouch for you." Nova says.

"We'll figure it out." Clarke adds.

"Can we figure it out later?" Bellamy asks, looking between the two younger girls.

"Whenever you're ready."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Nova, Clarke and Bellamy trek back to the camp. Their bags filled with blankets and arms loaded with guns. "He's gone. The grounder is gone." Miller's voice is heard from inside the camp walls.

"What if he brings other grounders back?" Jasper asks.

A few more voices are heard as the three step into the camp, "Let the grounders come." Bellamy's voice booms above the rest, the delinquents attention brought to the three leaders. "We've been afraid of them for far too long, and why? Because of their knives and spears. I don't know about you. I'm tired of being afraid."

The three drop the guns in front of them. Cheers start to sound from the surrounding group. "These are weapons, not toys, and we have to be prepared to give them up when the guard dropships come, but until then, they're going to help keep us safe." Clarke addresses the group.

"And there's more where these come from. Tomorrow Blake and I are starting training, and if the grounders want a fight, we'll be ready." Nova says, looking around at the delinquents faces.

A little while later Clarke and Nova sat in the communication tent speaking with Jaha. "He wants to talk with you. Set up a deal." Nova states.

"I'll go get him." Clarke mumbles as she stands up.

"I can still set up a meeting with your father, Nova." Jaha says as soon as Clarke is out of the video.

"I'll talk to him when he comes down. He can wait until then." Nova replies. Jaha opens his mouth to answer but stops when he sees Bellamy.

"Mr. Blake, I've wanted to talk to you for some time now." Jaha says.

"Before you do, I'd like to say something." Clarke begins, "When you sent us down here, you sent us to die, but miraculously, most of us are still alive. In large part, that is because of him, because of Bellamy. He's one of us, and he deserves to be pardoned of his crimes just like the rest of us."

"Clarke, I appreciate your point of view, but it's not that simple."

"It is that simple. You're just making it more complicated because you're biased on the fact that the attack was against you." Nova states, coming across more snippy then attended.

Bellamy speaks up before Jaha has the chance to reply, "If you pardon me I'll tell you who on the Ark wants you dead."

Jaha pauses for a brief moment, "Bellamy Blake, you're pardoned for your crimes. Now, tell me who gave you the gun."

#The 100 #the 100 imagine #the 100 rewrite #the 100 oc #elara sinclair #nova kane #series rewrite

9 notes · View notes

anxiouslyfred · 3 years

Text

Nothing Nightmares

Summary: Remus and Virgil have lived together for a while, unfortunately not just because they’re soulmates. At least Remus can be their to comfort him through the nightmares Virgil gets.

Warnings: Abuse mention, Nightmares,

/\/\

Virgil had fallen asleep part way through the afternoon. They'd been relaxing together, making fun of horror movies, just leaning against each other. It had taken a while but they'd both learnt how to quiet the song that played each time they got closer to each other again and Remus couldn't be happier over the time they spent together.

He'd gotten up to make a start on something they'd both be able to eat after an hour of letting Virgil sleep against him. It wasn't the runaway romance people always assumed their relationship to be after hearing how fast they moved in together once meeting, but he did occasionally want to indulge in domesticity with Virgil, including sharing dinners together.

Once the pasta had been put on to cook, whimpers coming from the sofa had Remus hurrying to his soulmate's side, already starting to sing along to their song as he shook Virgil's shoulder. “means nothing, what's the point in hanging round for nothing?” He wished he knew where the song was actually from in their world, but supposed there was a reason people tended not to look up their soul songs.

Bleary eyes started blinking open as the first chorus began, meeting Remus's in fear. “This misery taking every memory..” Remus tried to figure out if he should keep on singing, or if Virgil needed more time to wake up from whatever nightmare memory he'd been in.

At least it was better than that first month of them living together Virgil had been terrified, jumping at any noise or fast movement, and constantly watching Remus for his reaction at random points. Things Remus had now learnt would have sent his mother into screaming fits on a good day.

Remus hadn't asked what would happen on a bad day, but had detailed a million ways he longed to take revenge, if only Janus hadn't already had a lawyer already making the lawsuit the second Virgil was somewhere safe. Logan Sanders and Janus had gotten her arrested at lightning speed and had plenty of evidence ready to bring an air tight case when she found solicitors to defend her. Neither believed Virgil would need to be anywhere close to the trial.

None of that eased the nightmares Virgil still suffered from, or made Remus feel like justice would be served as the terrified man threw himself into his arms, knocking them both onto the floor.

“I'm here, Vi, never gonna let you go, even if you forget meeting me sometimes. I'm harder to get rid of than a limpet on a ship and if it takes supergluing us together to prove it then I'll get that done.” Remus muttered comforts into Virgil's hair, hands stroking up and down his back.

“She -she was saying I'd always fail. That – that my art was no good and I co-couldn't-” Virgil began mumbling, attempting to bury himself into Remus's chest, getting shushed a moment later with a kiss to his temple.

Remus tightened his arms before smiling. “Well we know what her words are worth, don't we? The first line of our songs says it.” He pointed out, getting a confused glance up at him. “Can you remember what that line is?”

“Eve- Everything she says to me means nothing.” Virgil replied after a moments thought where he automatically began copying Remus's breathing.

He nodded, “Good, it means nothing. You're a brilliant artist and Janus has already got people buying your paintings. I think he even mentioned a few friends asking if you took commissions last week. That sounds like you're pretty successful to me.” It had taken months after getting Janus to trust him for Remus to meet Virgil, who Jan was most protective of. He'd been interested in meeting Virgil since the first time he was mentioned but as though the name was a lock, Janus used to shut down the conversation and divert his attention completely. Thank goodness Remus was a determined pest.

The soothing words had Virgil listening carefully, even as their song started to fade out again. “That's just Jay. He could sell maggots to a butchers if he wanted to.” Virgil snickered, rejecting the compliment but still calming down.

“Spiderling, if she's not allowed to bring you down, then I better not be hearing you doing that for her.” Remus gently chided, shifting so that he could jump back up with Virgil in his arms. He could hear bubbling from the kitchen and needed to rescue the pasta before anything that might upset Virgil more happened. “Should I carry you around on my shoulders yelling everything you've done to be proud of until you believe it?”

Finally there was a small snicker, and the head leaning back from his chest. “But running helps me feel better and I can't do that from your shoulders.”

“Papyrus motivational training it is then. We've even got skeleton onesies to perfect the look. How about 3 times round the block after dinner shouting how awesome you are to the world?” Remus nodded decided on doing that.

He plopped Virgil onto the counter while hurrying over to the oven, not wanting to risk his soulmate by attempting to hold him and cook at the same time.

Virgil just watched him for a moment, curling his knees into his chest. “Or you could just get Janus over here with any recent reviews he's gotten about my work? It's be nice to see him again and you know he basically blocks anyone with the slightest criticism.”

“Blocks everything else too until he decides to trust someone.” It had amused Remus when he first met Janus. He constantly acted like he didn't care about what anyone thought about him, and as though he was confident enough that any criticism just rolled off his back, but blocked anyone that came close to it. In the face of Remus jumping between extremes and honestly just treating him as though his lies and masks were amusing that bolstered confidence had soon melted away. “Just remember how long it took us to meet and then the second we did you were living here.” He laughed, having been stunned by just how fast that happened.

“Oh that was always going to happen with my soulmate. Jay originally tried to convince that woman we were soulmates, but the lyrics didn't match when she tried testing us.” Virgil hummed, glancing up at the fridge for a moment before standing on the counter. “What're you cooking, anyway?”

“Eggy veggy pasta thing for you and I'm getting pasta with soap seasoning.” Remus chirruped his reply. “Never knew that about Janus, but I probably should have guessed. He's completely overprotective of you.”

Remus honestly believed that if he hadn't started immediately singing the song he could suddenly hear while heading over to meet Virgil that first time, Janus would have taken months before he learnt anything more about Virgil. Instead he had been insisting they move in together before actually making their introductions. It had been convincing the Virgil that he could do that took a lot longer. He had been terrified of it being a mistake, or something else going wrong despite admitting he could hear the song.

“Jay tries to be at least. Does his head in when he learns we're meeting people he hasn't checked out. And you're having at least a few vegetables with yours.” Virgil was insistent on trying to make Remus eat actual food and given how worried he could get when there was too long between him seeing Remus eat it was quite effective.

Remus left the pots on the stove for a moment to kiss Virgil's nose. “And I'm here to help scare away anything else that could harm you.”

“That you are.” Virgil agreed, returning the kiss on his cheek.

#dukexiety #platonic anxceit #virgil sanders #remus sanders #Janus Sanders #angst #abuse mention #cw nightmares #hurt/ comfort

12 notes · View notes

clumsyclifford · 3 years

Note

bella! I don't know if you're taking requests/prompts? but if you ever feel like writing anything based on just friends by saint morgan, that'd be cool? xD (whichever ship you think it fits, but it reminds me of that cake fic you wrote based on "silent confessions at the foot of your bed") anyway yeah that's all

shal !! it took me two months but i finally got around to writing this. since you mentioned g&c cake i made it cake, and yes i did loop the song the entire time i was writing it (29 times!). also i have to say, EXCELLENT taste. listening to that song 29 times really made me love it. also i recommend listening to it while reading for optimal experience. anyway i hope i did it justice <3

They go to the river.

River is a generous word for what’s really a racing stream, but the ambience is nice. It’s a warm Tuesday in December, and Calum’s restless for adventure. Luke can tell — somehow Luke can always tell; Calum doesn’t think he’s an open book but Luke only needs to give him a critical once-over before he’s got Calum figured out — so Luke suggests they go to the river, and Calum eagerly agrees.

Neither of them bothers to put on better clothes for swimming. They’re not really planning to swim, though it might happen anyway. It’s just nice to be outside on a gorgeous day like this. And Calum will take any and all opportunities to spend time with Luke.

“Dare you to go in,” he says as they approach the bank. Luke laughs.

“Darers go first.”

“Fine.” There’s no way Calum’s getting in; it’s warm but not that warm, and he doesn’t want to be cold the rest of the afternoon. Maybe he can manipulate Luke into getting in, though. He’s seen Luke caught in a rainstorm before, so he knows from experience that nobody looks quite as pretty while drenched.

It’s too late for Calum to pretend he’s not thinking it, or convince himself that he doesn’t have the world’s worst crush on Luke, so he’s learning just to let himself indulge when he can.

“You so won’t,” Luke scoffs. Then he shrugs. “It’s nice out, though. Maybe in a little bit.”

Calum concedes this with a tilt of the head, and in tandem they sit down on the grass nearby, claiming a shady spot under a tall tree. Luke leans back, stretching his arms behind his head like a pillow, and closes his eyes. Calum props himself up on his elbow and watches Luke.

Some people are winter people, best framed against clean white snow and wrapped up in layers. Luke is a summer person. His skin gleams under the sun, eyes and sky competing to be bluest. T-shirts and shorts suit him best, and even hidden in the shade of the tree, he’s dappled with sunlight through the leaves. Pretty is hardly sufficient; he’s one of the most beautiful people Calum’s ever met, ever seen in his life.

They don’t talk for a minute. Luke’s eyes flutter open, as if by accident, but when he sees Calum they stay open. “What?”

“What, what?”

“Don’t stare at me,” Luke says, pink-cheeked.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“No,” Luke says immediately, and then, “but just — don’t.”

Calum shifts so he’s on his back, side by side with Luke but not quite touching. “Fine, weirdo.”

“You’re the one who was staring!”

“Well, you’re the one who made it weird.”

“It’s weird to stare at your friends.”

“I don’t think it is. Not when they look like you.”

Luke is quiet. “Still,” he finally says, and that’s a soft rejection, but it had been a soft attempt anyway, so Calum takes it with a grain of salt.

Another couple minutes pass. It’s not humid, but the warmth lingering in the air makes Calum feel a bit drowsy, so he closes his eyes also, allowing them both to soak in the summer silence.

Luke breaks it by saying, “Um, this is a stupid question, but we’re really friends, right?”

Calum frowns without opening his eyes. “Of course we are,” he says. “That is a stupid question.”

“I guess you wouldn’t tell me if we weren’t,” Luke continues, like he hasn’t heard Calum.

“I wouldn’t be friends with you at all if we weren’t,” Calum argues. He opens his eyes and turns once again onto his side to look at Luke, who’s now gazing up at the branches above them. “What are you even saying?”

“I don’t know,” Luke says. He’s blushing deeply. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“Why do you ask?” Calum presses. “What are you thinking about?”

Luke shakes his head. “Nothing. Never mind.”

It’s obviously not nothing — Luke’s leg is bouncing, the way it does whenever he gets nervous — but Calum can’t imagine he’ll get any further with the third degree, so he backs off.

“I’m gonna get in the water,” he decides. He’s not totally sure what makes him say it, but it gets the result he’d hoped for: Luke purses his lips and says, “Me too, then.”

They both get to their feet and brush themselves off. “Is there dirt on my back?” Calum asks, turning out and attempting to look over his shoulder.

Luke steps behind him. “A bit, yeah,” he says. With one hand he braces Calum’s shoulder, and the other brushes the dirt off Calum’s t-shirt. Calum swallows, trying not to squirm under Luke’s firm grasp. As soon as he’s done, Luke moves away, and Calum reaches for the collar of his shirt and pulls it off.

Luke makes a noise. “What are you doing?”

Calum turns to him. “I’m not getting my shirt wet, I’ll just be colder,” he says, drawing his eyebrows together.

Luke bites his lip. “Oh. That makes sense.”

It does make sense, but it also does exactly what Calum had intended. After a moment’s hesitation, Luke also tugs his shirt off, and they both head for the stream.

The current is slow today, and when Calum trudges into the water it goes up to the middle of his stomach. He bends his knees and watches Luke slowly wade in after him, staring once again. Luke is skinny, but there’s something sculpted about him, like none of him is by accident; like someone built him, or sketched him with a ruler and then brought him to life, clean lines and sharp edges. Calum is dying to touch him, just to see if his skin is as hot as the sunlight it’s made of, if dragging a hand down his arm makes him bleed, if his hair is as soft as it looks.

More than all of that, Calum wants to kiss him, so much he thinks he might lose his mind if he doesn’t get to.

Luke sinks low in the water, digging his heels into the riverbed so he doesn’t drift away. Calum lets the current bring him closer.

“Kinda cold,” Luke says, giggling. Calum looks at him and can’t look away.

“Kinda,” he says. “Bet you’re glad you’re not wearing a shirt now.”

“I am,” Luke acquiesces. “You’re a genius, Calum.”

“That is true. I am a genius.” There’s a pause. “You should dunk your head,” Calum says. “We should both. On three.”

“Really? You want to put your head in this water?”

“It’s just water.”

Luke ponders this but fails to come up with a decent counter-argument. “Fine,” he says. “Promise you’ll actually do it?”

“It was my idea,” Calum says, rolling his eyes. “Yes, I promise.”

“On three, then.” Luke bobs up and down. “One, two — three!”

True to his word, Calum submerges himself completely, then surfaces and shakes his head out. Luke has also kept his word, and his hair is plastered ridiculously to his forehead until he reaches up and pushes it back with one hand. The light is threading itself through the sheen of water over Luke’s shoulders and chest. Calum is helpless against it; Luke was made to be gazed at, and Calum is just a lucky spectator.

“You’re staring again,” Luke says quietly. Calum smiles and floats nearer to him.

“Yes I am,” he says easily. “You’re very easy to stare at.”

Luke’s cheeks turn red. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Luke says, flustered. “Because — I don’t know.”

“Do you want me not to?”

“Not to…what?”

Calum bites his lip, waving a hand underwater and sending the flow this way and that. “Whatever it is you’re telling me not to do.”

Luke shakes his head. “It’s just — never mind.”

“You can tell me, you know,” Calum says. Luke’s not moving away, which is a good sign, so Calum straightens up. He feels like he’s towering over Luke until Luke also straightens up, and then, hesitantly, Calum takes a step closer. One more step and they’ll be touching; one more step for Calum to be the first person ever to make contact with the sun. “You don’t have to say never mind. I want to know.”

Luke looks away, down at the rocks and sand under their feet. “My mum says she thinks you’re trouble.”

That’s not what Calum had been expecting. “What?” he says, strained. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Luke mumbles. “She says she thinks you’re going to be one of those people who takes the shy kid under their wing and then just ditches him a few weeks later. Like, one of those popular kids.”

Calum makes an offended noise. “I would never do that!”

“She’s looking out for me,” Luke says, and he sounds tired. “I mean, I…I’ve never really had close friends, so I think she’s just being overprotective. I don’t know. She got in my head. That’s why I asked you that, earlier.”

“Luke, I’d never. You know I’d never. We’re really friends. You’re one of my best friends.” Calum takes a deep breath. “You believe me, right?”

Luke finally lifts his gaze to meet Calum’s. “Yeah, I do. I just don’t think my mum will. I tried to tell her that and she wouldn’t listen.”

Calum is itching to take that last step, but there’s something stopping him. Maybe it’s just the look on Luke’s face. “Is she — does she hate me?”

Luke shrugs. “It’s more like she really doesn’t trust you. So…I guess that’s the same. Sorry, Calum. I mean — I like you, though. And I know she’s wrong.” Something occurs to Calum. “Does she know you’re with me right now?”

Luke laughs a bit, though it’s clear he doesn’t find it funny. “No, uh…I told her we’re not friends, anymore.” He winces. “I know that’s — I know that’s not — I’m a coward, you know? But —”

“It’s okay,” Calum says with difficulty. “You don’t want to upset her.”

“It’s more like I just wanted her to stop shit-talking you,” Luke says. “She doesn’t talk about you anymore, so.”

“That’s good.” Calum bites his lip, hesitant. “I thought you were going to say it was something to do with, like, hanging out with the gay kid or something.”

Luke’s face twists into an expression of horror. “No! Calum, no way.” He breathes a nervous laugh. “She couldn’t have a problem with that anyway. I also, um, like boys, and she’s never said anything about that.”

Calum blinks. “You do?”

Through the water, Calum can see Luke kicking up pebbles. “Yeah,” he says. “I thought I said.”

“You didn’t. Just boys, or…?”

“And girls,” Luke says. “But, um, it’s a bit — it’s not like I’ve ever dated anyone, or kissed anyone, or anything, so, you know, I could be wrong.”

“You’ve never kissed anyone?”

Luke blushes with his whole body, Calum notices, with distant amusement. It creeps up his neck and tints his ears before crossing his cheeks. “Uh, no.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Calum does a quick pro-con analysis, but in the end it’s nothing but hope and recklessness that makes him ask: “Do you want to?”

“Obviously I want to,” Luke says, rolling his eyes.

“No, I mean.” Calum licks his lips, which feel suddenly dry. “Do you want to right now. With me.”

The quiet that follows is the heaviest Calum’s ever been in. It stacks itself onto Calum’s shoulders, daring him to cave, to back down even an inch, but Calum just stands still and watches Luke. If he doesn’t want to, he can always say no. He has to know that Calum will back off if he says no.

Luke swallows hard. “Really?” Calum nods once, holding his breath. There’s another moment of silence while Luke studies his face, and finally he says, “Okay. If you’re sure.”

Calum’s never been more sure of anything in his life. At last the invisible barrier breaks down, and Calum takes the final step to bridge the distance between them. “Stop me if, um, whenever,” he says. Luke nods. Calum settles his hands delicately on Luke’s shoulders — electricity racing up his arms — and Luke moves his hands uncertainly around for a second, so Calum grabs his wrists and settles them on his own waist. “Okay?”

“Sorry,” Luke mutters. Calum shakes his head, a small smile on his face.

“It’s all good,” he says. “Can I…”

Luke nods slowly, so Calum wastes no time. He leans in and Luke meets him in the middle, and for a second everything in the world stops moving, stops existing, except Luke’s mouth on Calum’s, clumsy and unsure but decidedly Luke, who Calum’s wanted to kiss basically since they met.

Not only is it exceptional for a first kiss, it’s exceptional for a kiss at all. Calum quickly wraps his arms around Luke’s neck and Luke’s wind around Calum’s waist, pressed together at almost every point. Despite the chill from the breeze catching on their damp skin, Calum feels like he’s on fire. If this is what it’s like to touch the sun, Calum never wants to stop. He’d burn himself up to kiss Luke forever.

Though Luke had been tentative at first, he surrenders immediately when Calum slides his tongue over Luke’s bottom lip, with a small sigh that makes Calum’s heart skip a beat, or cease altogether. Around them, the current pushes the two of them impossibly closer together; when Luke’s tongue finds its way into Calum’s mouth, Calum fails to suppress a shiver, and immediately Luke breaks away, concerned.

“Are you cold?” he asks breathlessly.

Calum laughs and shakes his head. “Not even a little bit,” he says, and pulls Luke back in.

The feeling of Luke under his fingertips is overwhelming, and Calum is sure that without the kiss grounding him, he’d float away entirely, or disintegrate, or burst into flames. He feels like he’ll do one of those things as it is, or maybe all three. Kissing Luke is also overwhelming, but in a completely different way, because it’s a two-way street. He’s kissing Luke, but Luke is also kissing him.

(Shamelessly, hungrily, lips and teeth and tongue against Calum’s. Calum has a hard time believing that this is Luke’s first kiss. Nobody should be this good on their first try.)

Eventually, and with a gasp, Luke breaks it again. Calum chases his lips for a last kiss, something soft, because as far as he knows he’ll never get to kiss Luke again. It fills him with dread to think it, but this had ostensibly only been a first-kiss offer, and now they’ve checked that box.

(They’ve destroyed the box. The box is in tatters. The box isn’t even recognizably a box anymore.)

Both of them stand there, unmoving as the stream brushes up against their skin, breathing heavily in each other’s space. Calum can’t think of anything at all to say, and Luke says nothing either; for a long time they just stay there, reluctant to separate and equally reluctant to shatter the silence. If they acknowledge it, then they have to move past it. Calum doesn’t want that. He wants to live in this moment for the rest of his life, to always be suspended in the moment just after kissing Luke, when he can still taste him.

Luke opens his mouth finally, and what he says is, “Oh. Um. Thank you.”

Despair floods Calum. “It wasn’t a favor,” he blurts out. Luke frowns in confusion. “I wanted to. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time. We don’t have to again if you don’t want to, but you should know.”

Luke exhales. “Oh.” His gaze skids lower, away from Calum’s eyes. Calum becomes hyper-aware of how close they still are. Luke hasn’t made any effort to move away, and Calum certainly doesn’t want to. That has to be a good sign, right? “I — um.” He takes a sharp breath. “My mum…”

Fuck. Luke’s fucking mum. Calum’s never hated anyone more. “So don’t tell her,” Calum says.

Luke looks up at him. “I couldn’t do that to you. I don’t want to be with you like that.”

For a second, Calum’s throat closes up with the bulk of words building up, question marks all trying to force their way between his teeth, tangling up his tongue. “Wh— do you want to be with me at all?”

“Of course I do,” Luke says timidly. “I’m just. I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “It’s kind of scary.”

“Yeah,” Calum says, infusing his voice with as much comfort as he can muster while reeling from the force of Luke’s answer. Of course I do. “Yeah. It’s scary. Sure. Especially if it’s a secret. If it’s too, um, too much — I don’t want to put you in a position —”

“No, no,” Luke says. “I’m saying I want to anyway.” The blush has taken up permanent residence on his face, but somehow Luke’s voice is clear and unflinching. “If it’s okay with you, then it’s okay with me.”

Calum wavers. “Are you sure, Luke? It’s kind of a, you know.”

“I’m sure,” Luke says firmly. His eyes flit around Calum’s face, maybe searching for something. “We should probably, like, get out of the…the water.”

Calum tightens his arms around Luke’s neck, leaning his forehead against Luke’s. His heart is beating irregularly, and it might be from the cold, but it’s probably not. “Or we could not.”

Luke chuckles weakly. “We’ll catch cold or something.”

“It’s December,” Calum says, barely a breath. “Live a little.”

Luke doesn’t answer him, but he surges forward and kisses Calum with none of the reservations he’d had minutes earlier, and if the current washed them both away right now, or sunk them under and mysteriously claimed their lives, Calum knows he’d die happy.

#calum hood #luke hemmings #cake #cake fic #5sos #5sos fic #fic #my fic #i am queueing this lol #so i have no idea when it'll post lmao but i'm queuing (queueing?) it on october 29 at 8:30pm #so. that'll be fun whenever it posts #shal i have to say. GREAT song #the VIBES of this fic. especially with the song on a loop. mmmm #well chosen. VERY well chosen #also shoutout to iba for literally listening to the song with me....like.......just listening with me to just friends on a loop #iba i can't believe you did that you're the best and i would kill for you #i don't know if this shares the vibes of the g&c fic but i hope it satisfies anyway #xoxoxoxo i am breezing through these #i might move it up in the queue so it doesnt go after my currently 32 queued posts #we'll see #who KNOWS what i'll do! not me that's for sure #and now i am going to go make myself some ramen for dinner #bye lol #wheniminouterspace #ask #answered

15 notes · View notes

alexboehm55144 · 3 years

Text

Alex Final Wars 2: Dark Alex, Chapter 34 - Black Ship

Living quarters on the Typhoon were of good quality, and there were cabins for mammals of all sizes. Each cabin had a bathroom and a comfy bed that was built into one of the walls. They also had a closet and plenty of room for furniture if the occupant wanted it. The walls were metal, and the entire cabin had a modern look. There was also a window to the outside world for the enjoyment of the occupant. During battle, armored panels would slide over the window.

Captain Boehm awoke in his quarters on the Typhoon, stretching and trying to stay awake. The room was dark, only illuminated by a bit of light from the outside peaking past the blinds.

He wanted to just stay in bed. Maybe watch some videos or something on his tablet. But, there was work to be done. He grabbed his phone and tapped the texting app, finding the message between him and Toothdee.

"I'm awake. What's our status?" He texted.

Toothdee decided to call back instead of texting back, the phone's screen showing a picture of her, while the device rang loudly.

The captain cursed under his breath, getting out of bed and walking into the bathroom in his room.

"What is it?" He said, answering the phone.

"Well, first of all, good morning." Toothdee said, "secondly, we lost the energy signature of your counterpart's plane last night. We can only track it for so long, and it's difficult considering his plane has a stealth coating of paint on it."

"So, we've lost him entirely?"

"Not quite. We can still search the general area where we last detected the plane. Also, we have a report from a scouting element. Our counterpart's version of the Typhoon was spotted in the same area. I think we might be getting close."

"Brilliant! Let's keep on them. We might be able to find our counterpart's HQ. What about you, Toothdee? You should probably get some rest."

"I'm fine. I took over from Kion a few hours ago. Besides, I have iced tea."

"Oh, did the flying training pay off?"

"Well, it's a lot easier to fly through the open sky than battle around rocks and structures, using them as cover."

"True. Ok, I'll come up and meet you shortly."

The call ended, and the captain sighed, exiting the bathroom and walking back to his bed.

"Sorry about that." He said to the blue-furred wolf laying on the bed, rubbing her eyes.

"Well... I should probably get up anyways..." JayJay said.

"Another day, another battle. But it's nice to relax every once in a while." The captain said, sitting on the bed and pulling on some socks.

"Yeah... especially with someone else," JayJay said, nibbling on her companion's ear.

"Ow!?" Alex said, pulling away from her.

"Oh, sorry! That's a wolf thing."

"Well... Just be gentle."

The wolf went back to work, following her instincts while the captain scrolled through his tablet, preparing for the day ahead. Eventually, much to JayJays disappointment, Alex got up and gathered his things, getting ready to leave.

"Who's.... still left out there?" The wolf said, getting on all fours and stretching her arms out, yawning at the same time.

"Well, there's your counterpart, Toothdee's counterpart, and my counterpart."

"Oh, listen, be careful when going after your counterpart, ok." The wolf stood up and walked over to the human, taking his hands in her paws. "Eris told me that you crashed while battling your counterpart."

"Yeah, it was tough. I mean, just a human, treading water against a jet."

The wolf's ears were pinned back on her head, indicating she was upset.

"But I'm fine. Shame about my jet, though."

"You are more important than some fancy plane Alex."

"I know, I know."

"Be more careful, so you can live to fight another day."

There was a pause, the captain thinking about what to say next.

"For me?" The wolf said.

"*sigh* alright, for you."

The pair shared a short kiss and embrace before going their separate ways for the day. There was still a war to be won.

000

The captain entered the bridge, gazing out at the light blue sea and tall volcanic mountains visible outside the Typhoon. The mountains were covered in rich green forests, and clouds dotted the sky. Toothdee was piloting the ship from the captain's chair. Meanwhile, Jack was also present, standing in the corner and listening to something on his phone. However, he was aware enough to nod at Alex as he entered.

"Morning!"

"Morning Alex," Toothdee said, sitting up in the captain's chair. "We should be nearing the area where our counterpart's ship was spotted."

"Well, we should probably put everyone on high alert."

"I know. I'm just letting everyone get up, get ready, and get going. But everyone's assignments and positions have already been set up and are ready to be sent out if or when the time comes."

"You are always prepared."

"Hang on, picking up something."

Toothdee looked at the radar screen to spot an unknown contact somewhere behind a mountain up ahead. She guided the ship towards the signature, rounding the mountain the heroes on the bridge saw it.

"The black typhoon..." Toothdee said, watching the massive vessel hover in the air in front of them. The ship was slightly larger than Heroes' blue Typhoon, and its hull way black in color, while its counterpart was gray with some blue highlights. Large wings used to help the airship in flight jutted out from the hull, and the vessel's surface was blistered with weapon emplacements.

"Toothdee, battle stations!" The captain ordered.

"Already on it." She said, pressing a button, automatically sending everyone's assignments to them. Everyone on the ship instantly and knew where they had to go and what they had to do.

Jack and Alex raced to gunner seats, sitting down and bringing the weapons online.

A few moments later, Laval and Eris entered the bridge, getting to their gunner positions.

"Well, this is quite a way to start the day," Laval said, sitting down.

"Enemy ship is hailing us," Toothdee said before a video from the Black Typhoon appeared on the bridge's main screen, which normally showed the outside world.

Toothdees counterpart appeared on screen, also sitting in the pilot's seat of her vessel.

"I did not expect that today I would get to destroy my adversaries and their warship." Toothdee's counterpart said. "Today is off to a good start."

"It's you who will be going down today," Toothdee said.

"Your ship is inferior by the looks of it."

"It's more than capable of killing you!"

"We shall see..."

The video disconnected, and the battle began.

Both typhoons fired, opening salvos of missiles and rockets. Members of Heroes operating the bridges of the blue Typhoon, while Chinese troops managed the weapons of the Black Typhoon. Shots from both vessels hit the other, dealing damage to both ships.

"Hull is holding," Eris reported.

The ships moved closer to each other and began to circle and square off. The pair of ships avoiding enemy shots while hitting their own. Two airships battling in the sky, surrounded by volcanic mountains and forests sprouting from the rich soil.

Toothdee used the blue Typhoon's smaller size and better maneuverability to evade incoming fire from the hostile vessel. However, this also meant that when the Blue Typhoon was hit, it did more damage than when the Heroes vessel struck the Chinese ship.

The blue Typhoon pulled in close, allowing its gunners to engage at close range, dealing heavy damage to the hostile airship. But due to the closer range, the black Typhoon got off some good shots on the Typhoon. As the blue Typhoon pulled away, the enemy airship launched a barrage of missiles that struck the American airship.

The Heroes vessel shook as shells and missiles hit it, and suddenly, lights, computer screens, and control systems went down.

Red emergency lights came on while the massive video screen used to view the outside world flickered for a moment. Laval spoke on the loss of camera feed to the weapon he was controlling.

"Uh? Where'd my canon go?"

"Mine's gone as well." Captain Boehm said. "The electrical systems must have been damaged."

"Find out where!" Toothdee said, trying to maintain control of the vessel despite the power issues. She turned her vehicle away from the hostile airship. The Typhoon used the volcanic mountains nearby as cover, breaking the line of sight with the enemy. However, the dark ship maintained pursuit, firing whenever it had a chance.

Meanwhile, Eris had switched control away from a weapon's emplacement, choosing instead to activate one of the Typhoon's defensive systems. Smoke generators all over the ship turned on and created a large cloud around the vessel, obscuring it from the view of the Black Typhoon.

Alex looked through a display of the ship's systems and saw that a critical junction box had sustained damage.

"Junction box 2-C, port side!"

"Get Skye on it!" Jack said, "she's an engineer after all."

The captain quickly contacted the fox on his radio.

"Skye! We need you!"

"What is it? What's wrong with the lights?"

"A junction box has been damaged. We need you to fix it. And quick! Look for junction box 2-C. It's marked as such. 2nd deck, port side."

"Massive airships aren't really my thing...." Skye said. "But I'll see what I can do. I'm gonna need my tools. They're in my room."

"I'll tell Kion to get them," Alex said.

"Ok, I'll get it done."

Skye started racing through the ship, getting on all fours to go faster. After being contacted by captain Boehm, Kion headed to Jack and Skye's room. The lion entered, quickly spotting a small red toolbox near the door, before grabbing it and sprinting towards the compartment he had been directed towards.

Meanwhile, toothdee turned and moved the Typhoon as fast as she could, narrowly avoiding hostile shells. The black Typhoon fired another barrage of missiles.

"Deploying flares!" Eris said, pressing a button and causing flares to release from canisters on the Typhoon. The heat-seeking missiles hit the flares, while the Typhoon continued onwards unscathed by the missile barrage.

Skye reached compartment 2C and opened it up, finding wires and electronics smoking and sparking. Kion showed up with a toolbox, crouching down to her height and putting the box between them.

The fox blew on the burnt electronics and went to work, rewiring electrical circuits and occasionally telling Kion to get her a tool.

"Wire cutters."

The lion reached into the tool bag and found the tool, quickly placing it into the agent's waiting paw.

"Voltmeter."

The lion obliged as the lights in the area went out for a brief moment while Skye messed with the wiring.

"Rag."

The lion handed Skye a rag, and the fox wiped the sweat off her forehead with it.

She fiddled with the electrical systems a bit more, and then, the weapons returned to full fictionality. On the airship bridge, the main lights returned, and computer screens came back on.

"Oh yeah, we're back," Jack said, the camera view of his weapon returning.

Toothdee spun the Typhoon around, ultimately catching the pursuing enemy ship off guard. With the element of surprise, the Heroes vessel fired everything it had. Missiles, cannons, machine guns, ordnance of all types hit the Black Typhoon.

The Chinese airship sustained massive damage, hull sections cracking and burning scars appearing all over the vessel. The black Typhoon attempted to flee, turning around a mountain and into a large valley. However, the blue Typhoon maintained chase. Toothdee pressed her firing controls, and cannon shells cut through the air, hitting the rear engines on the Chinese vessel.

Smoke poured from the black Typhoon, the dark ship looking like its very superstructure was evaporating into whips of jet black smoke. The Chinese vessel couldn't maintain altitude, crashed into the forest below, and created a massive sound of scraping metal on rock.

Trees, rocks, and dirt were thrown up in the air as the black Typhoon skid across the ground. Wild birds took to the sky in fear as the airship came to a stop on a mountainside. The beast was slain. Smoke and fire poured from the black Typhoon, and most of its weapons had been destroyed. All that was left was the crew, scrambling around inside, Dark Toothdee yelling orders to try and formulate a course of action. Chinese troops rushed to and fro, repairing damage and attempting to get systems back online.

All the while, the Blue Typhoon hovered in the sky above its fallen adversary, almost lording over its kill. The smaller and allegedly inferior ship had bested its enemy, leaving the latter nothing but broken metal.

"We did it," Toothdee said, finally relaxing slightly, no longer in imminent danger from their counterpart's ship.

"Take it from another pilot, Toothdee, that was some great flying," Eris said.

"Some of their weapons are still online. They could still return fire," Jack noted.

"Hail them," captain Boehm said, "let's see what they have to say now."

A communications link to the hostile ship came up on the screen yet again. This time the video showed that Toothdee's counterpart looked worse for wear. Smoke and sparks came from areas off-screen, and the counterpart's face was covered in cuts and bruises.

"Well, well... Who's inferior now." The captain said. "It would be wise for you to surrender."

"Never!" Toothdee's counterpart said. "I'll tear your ship from the sky! You will have to kill me!"

"You got it. Open fire! All batteries!"

"With pleasure, sir," Laval said, pressing down on the fire buttons on his controls.

Missiles and shells blasted for the Typhoon's weapon systems, the ship engaging with extreme prejudice. Smoke from the weapons filled the air as explosions wracked the black Typhoon.

Toothdee pressed down on her fire controls, but only half-heartedly. Even as she pressed the button to launch a devastating barrage of missiles, her will to do so wavered. Was this the best course of action? Why couldn't they make a ground assault and capture her counterpart? They would be able to gain valuable intelligence. These thoughts ran through her mind, even as the barrage of missiles streaked towards the Black Typhoon's bridge.

On the enemy bridge, alarms blared, and red lights flashed as the ship sustained catastrophic structural failure. Indicators displaying critical damage blinked wildly as Dark Toothdee closed her eyes. She did not want to see her own failure, even as the black Typhoon broke apart around her.

The vessel detonated. Fire ripping through its dark black hull, propelling debris into the air, with the wreckage raining down in the surrounding area. All that was left of a once-powerful and devastating airship was a burnt and ravaged hunk of steel, awash with flame.

"Well, that's that then," Eris said

"Another one down," Laval said.

"I'll send a team to the wreckage," Jack said, calling up some ZIA agents who were in the vicinity.

"Eris was right, Toothdee." Alex said, "you are one hell of a pilot."

"Thanks." She responded. But she still couldn't shake the feeling that they could have done more. She was partly glad that her evil counterpart was dead, but she felt they could have captured her dark double instead. Either way, another counterpart had been killed. Only 2 remained.

000

"What have you found?" Toothdee asked. She and Alex watching Jack, Haida, & Retsuko sort through reports.

"Well, the ZIA agents sent to the wreckage found some Chinese military documents," Retsuko said, eyes darting between 2 pieces of paper as she cross-referenced information.

"I the ZIA's best translation teams are working on it," Jack said. "They've already translated a bunch of helpful information."

The rabbit pulled up a report that was marked as highly classified. "But there's also a report that seems to be from the counterparts. it mentions something called 'operation match strike.'"

“Matchstrike?” Alex said.

"Yeah, it mentions operations at a set of islands in the South China Sea and talks about running communications misinformation and then launching a small strike force. That's about it. It doesn't tell the full story."

"Island in the South China Sea?" Toothdee said, "isn't that where this war started?"

"Yes, it is. There does seem to be information here about the start of this conflict. Maybe if we can get intelligence from the islands themselves, we could learn more."

"Back to where it all began...."

"Want me to start drawing up plans for an infiltration or assault operation," Alex asked.

"Do that, but first, we need to finish repairs and rearmament."

"Skye is helping to work on that," Jack said. "I'm glad we were able to make it back to a US island."

"Yep, we sustained some heavy damage, but at least we're still in one piece."

"And soon..." captain Boehm said. "The full might of this warship, Heroes, and the US, will be bearing down on China and our counterparts."

4 notes · View notes

potatoesandsunshine · 3 years

Text

Campaign 2 Wrap Up: Anna Potatoesandsunshine Edition

Seemed like it would be fun to go through all the fan content I made for this campaign and try to find at least one thing I like about each thing! Kind of like looking back through a photo album. Under the cut because as it turns out, I wrote kind of a lot! (As in, 21 fics and 3 playlists kind of a lot!)

the sea, once it casts its spell (fjord speculation, what’s up with all this ocean stuff?? the fic)

The first thing I wrote for c2, wayyy in the beginning of things. We had no idea about Uk’otoa or Avantika or anyone at this point, it was pure ocean vibes for my favorite warlock. I really like how hard I leaned in on the “the ocean follows Fjord to land” idea.

so many things will fill my life (but only one will do) (post-campaign cali/jester fluff, written the night of the cali episode and so sweet it could rot your teeth)

This one is just good. I just did good with this one. I’m one of those people who hates their own work the night of posting and then when looking back at it goes, “Wow, this is great.” My favorite thing is the little gifts sent along with the letters! Cali was so fun and cute :)

when the dust does roam (Beau study up to Episode 42, 2k words of Beau poking at the idea of grief)

Best thing I did in this fic was have Caleb-through-Frumpkin bugging Beau about getting some sleep. They really... they’re siblings, your honor.

“ “Fuck off, I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” Beau picks the bird up and sets him in the hood of her own cloak, out of reach of any weasels or startled monks in the morning. It’d suck to have to tell Caleb that his Frumpkin got eaten by Sprinkle.” C’mon guys, let’s do the sibling dance.

keep your swords out by your sides (the idea for this was, What If Fjord Has Nightmares From Uk’otoa Every Night and just doesn’t remember them)

Assigning everybody a word Uk’otoa had said for each nightmare in this was a challenge; I went into it knowing I wanted Caleb for Learn and Caduceus for Consume and had to guess the rest - for an angry eye snake Uk’otoa didn’t give us a ton of quotes.

“ He reaches over and runs a hand along the wall of the ship. From his touch, mushrooms begin sprouting.” Caduceus starting to decompose the Mistake in the middle of cooking was maybe the best moment in this story for me. Like, yeah. Yeah. Ok you funky little grave cleric.

strange but not a stranger (Caleb & Jester, in the immediate aftermath of Caleb’s charm in Episode 55)

the first of my “the Mighty Nein won’t have these conversations with each other in canon so they have to be had in fic” ideas that turned into a full-fledged story. I still had not discovered the em dash at this point, so the formatting of this makes me cringe a little bit, but this fic was really about The Emotions Of Being Out Of Control which turned out to be a very big Thing for the Mighty Nein.

now this story was when swords were humble (fake academia mixed with a Yasha study)

Honestly I’m still obsessed with the AU I made here where Yasha was just awakening every sword she used without knowing it?? Why did I use that here only?? That might come back. But the best part about this fic is the citations; me at my most in-joke and ridiculous.

through the teeth of this tempest (Written in the immediate aftermath of Episode 69, Yasha internally trying to break Obann’s control over the course of a month.)

The most “I wrote this to cope with canon” fic out of all of them. I was crying writing this, I was so upset that Yasha was gone ugh just remembering it. Still waiting for past me to discover the em dash, I genuinely don’t know why I didn’t know how to do it and I’ve thought about going back and editing all of these but I’m just Not Gonna Do All That. Anyway, I really like how Yasha catches lightning with her sword in this. We all really manifested that happening.

nothing more than what the losers settle for (Time travel, a series of oneshots where each member of the m9 sans Caduceus went back to a different point in the timeline and murdered Trent Ikithon)

This was my longest fic for c2, so I’m mostly just glad it got finished. This happened somewhere around the time Matt released that set of notes that mentioned Trent in more detail and I hated him so much I just had to write him dying six times. That speaks for itself.

Revolutionary!Fjord was also a good turn. He could pull it off, I think.

we’re gonna show ‘em a thing, or two, or three (Jester growing up fluff!)

I really like how I did Jester & Artagan in this, even though he barely appears. Someone better at songwriting than me please write the Dragon Song. Em dash makes an appearance here but the formatting is still wrong. I Am Once Again Asking For Proper Use Of The Em Dash.

the best things (happen while you’re dancing) (Mid-Episode 97 Divergence, Jester taking the reins at the party + hints of jester/beau/yasha bc i still love my girls so much)

Jester’s a little out of character in this, but not wildly so, and it was for the purposes of a Trapped By Societal Convention plot that I wanted her to mastermind so I think it was fine in the end. I’m still fascinated by the way she unbalanced Ludinus Da’leth in basically every interaction they had, and while their scene feels pretty cliche in this... the cliches are there for a reason. They’re so fun to write.

Em dash my beloved, there you are.

plus thirty-one varieties of sacramental wine (The Galavant crossover that truly nobody asked for, Beau + the monks)

Yeah, this one’s just fun. Not much more to say about it. Critical Role and Galavant are both fantasy, but they’re honestly pretty different in tone, and it was fun to write Beau dropped into a comedy musical.

oh we were sea-bound and aimless at best (Purely angst, a What If The Fjord & Orly Resurrections Didn’t Work fic)

Made myself care about Marius with this one, y’all. What more can I say? Beau having to go from first mate to captain was just... deliciously painful, because she would.

lost my shape trying to act casual (Beau & Yasha during travelercon, another mid-episode fic, this time of 104)

Yasha comforting Beau, who feels guilty for not feeling guilty... That Mighty Nein wasn’t lying, Mind Control and Autonomy can be themes. Another in the “the Mighty Nein won’t have these conversations with each other in canon so they have to be had in fic” tank. They really just... didn’t open up to each other for a long time, which made sense, but I wanted them to.

so long as you don’t mind a little dying (Beau & Caduceus, sometime in the peace talks arc)

Keeping with the Mighty Nein Please Talk To Each Other theme, I feel like I did a pretty good job with the late-night conversation energy of this fic. This was at a time when I was looking at Caduceus, can opener in hand, ready to make this firbolg open up about his feelings. Beau in this is prickly and confrontational but only in service of her friend’s well-being.

amber light, bending (Eiselcross speculation, Widofjord and all the messiness therein)

THE widofjord fic of my two widofjord fics. The blueprint. The better one. Finally I got the dynamic figured out. I maintain that the tower is an absolute expression of Caleb’s love for his friends. The way that neither of them have the braincell in this fic... yeah this one is just good.

and a blade between them (Widofjord happening... sometime.)

Okay so this is not as good as amber light and I will never be able to look at it and like it as much, but it was still fun to write. Anyway, the intimacy of shaving someone else. That is good. The tag “if they didn’t want me to think about the blood pact they shouldn’t have made the blood pact” is the most useful takeaway from this fic and is the driving force behind the Fjord/Jester/Caleb fic I’m working on now, so it wasn’t a waste of time or anything.

feel the ground beneath my feet turn into the sky (Post-Campaign Astrid-retires-to-Nicodranas, Astrid/Jester)

This is another one where I’m like “Yeah, this is just good.” Packed full of Wizard Fashion, Artagan making an appearance to rope Astrid into having a happier future, and the power of Going To The Seaside. Good for you, fic-Astrid.

spend your days biting your own neck (Role-reversal where Beau is the one mind-controlled this time and Yasha is the one chasing after her, set very early in the Tomb Takers arc)

So much of this fic is about not saying things aloud - Beau’s POV spends a good chunk on body language and Yasha writes multiple letters on paper and in her own head - but devotion bleeding through anyway because there’s nowhere else for it to go. The two of them go tumbling over a cliff together at the end but Yasha has wings, ugh. Yeah this was a good one.

and blow the dry leaves from the tree (Somewhere before the beauyasha date but otherwise timeline-nonspecific Nicodranas, Yasha & Yeza become friends)

Yasha & Yeza making pancakes together when neither of them know how to do so... is good. This fic is very much about grief sneaking in, but it’s even more about finding someone to share the moment with you. I think these two have more in common than we think.

oh, lend a mending hand (Caleb & Caduceus during Beau’s tombstone meditation in Episode 130)

I wrote this entire fic as an excuse for Caleb and Caduceus to hug and it does what it says on the tin. Got em.

it’s about the passing of measures (Beauyasha at the end of Episode 134, Aeor speculation)

This fic got extremely sidetracked because I rediscovered the marble machine during it and I do not apologize for that. I still really like the idea that Aeor as a whole, not just the Cognouza, is somewhat-alive. Too much magic and too much death for it to be anything else, in my mind. And I’m a sap for hurt/comfort.

the blumentrio playlist nobody asked for

If I think too much about how deep in each other these three people are I will cry. Made myself a soundtrack for those tears.

the caleb playlist nobody asked for

what if this angsty wizard had a playlist of songs that mostly just... make me want to dance? that question was answered here.

the caduceus playlist nobody asked for

songs about home, leaving home, dying, changing, becoming someone new, coming home and finding it’s changed... this to me is caduceus.

yeah... this campaign has been fun!! I probably won’t stop making things about it; I still write about Vox Machina, for crying out loud, but... it feels good to lay it all out like this. It’s been a long few years, and it’s wild to be seeing the end of it now.

#yes tumblr hates links yes here is an overlong post with 24 links #now THIS is why you make a blog. to look at your own work and say yeah several times.#critical role #i have some stuff i've been working on but i don't see any of it getting finished before the epilogue #looking back at everything is like... yeah! i had a lot of fun here!#anna's fic notes

2 notes · View notes

blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 years

Text

31. The One That I Get to Build With

Previous Word Count: 7608

Hazel was less irritated with Grace and Simon when they were honest with her and told her that they were going to be involved in a relationship, but not openly. They didn’t want anyone else to know, mostly because Grace was very secretive and didn’t want the same people who often intruded into her social media to find their way into this relationship, as they attempted to build it.

So, the simple rule was that if someone made a comment about the relationship not to respond to it and if someone asked about it, not to answer. They just moved the conversation right along, like the relationship had not been mentioned. Grace and Simon used to do that all of the time. Hazel, they worried might find it more difficult, but they were counting on the fact that most people who might ask her would be online, where she could easily ignore them.

Simon went to his parents’ for Thanksgiving. Apparently, his dad begged him to , because he was certain that this would be his mom’s last one… Simon guessed that Grace was making him soft, because he couldn’t say no. It felt wrong to just refuse. “You gonna be okay?” Grace asked, the night before his flight.

“Yeah,” he answered, sadly. “I’ll stop by to see your parents, while I’m out there.”

“They’ll probably be at a banquet or something. Hazel and I are going to do some charity and bring some people to shelters, then have dinner together and retire in our jammies to have movie night.”

Simon groaned, “Why do you have to rub that in my face?”

“Don’t complain.” He pouted silently. “You’ll be able to be around for Christmas, if you’re still playing your cards right.”

“I’m never gonna mess this up.”

“Awww. Well… see you when you get back.”

She made sure that was correct, because whenever Simon got back, the Monday after Thanksgiving, Grace was asleep in his bed. He’d given her a key almost as soon as they decided that they were going to give themselves a try, but she didn’t really use it. He was grateful that she had that night. Seeing his family had been enough to make him grateful for what he escaped from. After he washed up, he slid into bed and wrapped his arms around her. She stirred to ask him how it went, and when he said he didn’t want to talk about it, she simply rested her head on his chest, kissed his tattooed pec, and went back to sleep. The scent of her hair gave him a comfort that he had forgotten existed the previous few days. This was one of the things he was thankful for, wrapped up tightly in his arms, in his bed.

Simon and Hazel decorated his house for Christmas. Really, Simon decorated and Hazel critiqued, but it was “helpful,” for her to tell him everything that he seemed to be doing wrong… for a while. It was actually extremely cold and he didn’t usually spend that amount of time outside in such weather. Plus… the criticism. He wasn’t fond of being criticized, even after years of therapy. Eventually, he told her, “I think I can handle some lights, Hazel. I graduated from MIT.”

Hazel rolled her eyes and told him, “You say that to me and I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean any more than you know what you’re doing with these lights.”

“Hazel…” He said it then took a pause to catch his breath and realign his patience. That was what Grace called it. Realigning your patience. She’d take a look at him and ask, “Do you think maybe you need to realign your patience?” Not to calm down, and not accusing him of getting upset, but asking him to realign his patience and somehow, every time, he got soft and did exactly that. “Good job, Gray Eyes,” and a strum of his ponytail later, he’d be a cool pile of putty for her to mold… But Grace was inside of the house and her little Christmas slave-driver was not the model of invoking patience…

“Gra-a-a-ce!” Simon called out. “GRACE!” He said louder and more short.

She came running outside and immediately checked on Hazel. “What is it? Are you okay? What’s happening?”

“Please, get her cocoa or something,” Simon said. It was given like an order and gave Grace pause, to look at him like he was out of his mind. “Please?” He repeated, softer. “I need to realign my patience and it’s hard to focus in this cold…” She softened up too.

“Come on, Haze,” Grace wrapped an arm around Hazel’s shoulder and guided her inside. Simon got more done now, but he hoped that it looked okay. Hazel had caused some doubts. Eventually, Grace called him and told him to come inside and recalibrate. He groaned, but knew that it was a commandment, not a suggestion. Besides, he was freezing his balls off.

Whenever he walked in, it felt so refreshingly warm. The house smelled like pine, fire, and some sort of candles that Grace had lit all over the opening of the house. Hazel and Grace were in the kitchen. Hazel, seated at the island with an absurdly large mug that her GlamMother got her for winters in New York and a plate of something that smelled remarkable. Grace took his coat and hung it on the rack and gestured at his shoes. He set them on the rack next to the door and she led him to the kitchen. “Since Hazel is a great helper, she helped me to try out my first recipe from a recipe book that I got as an early Christmas present!” She cheered.

Simon didn’t look excited about it. Everyone knew that of Grace’s many talents, the only ones that happened in the kitchen were usually DIY natural beauty products. She gently forced him into the seat next to Hazel and began to excitedly prepare him something.

Simon leaned towards Hazel and whispered, “I’m sorry about losing it out there. Level with me. Should I be worried?”

Hazel smirked and tilted her head, “Are you suggesting that Our Grace can’t follow the instructions in a recipe book, Simon?”

“No… Just… wondering if she can…” Hazel snorted. It didn’t escape his notice that she hadn’t devoured her gingerbread men.

“Okay, SO… Here is a cup of crock pot hot chocolate and…” she turned around with a mug and a plate and it looked vaguely familiar. “Gingerbread Man VS Snowman S’mores…” Simon gasped, recalling being with his Nana dad's mom, before she died and making an entire murder scene with her gingerbread man cookies and the marshmallow snowmen that she was going to melt into the cocoa… he then let out a hearty laugh about that situation.

“I wanted to try to be a good girlfriend for Christmas, so I called your dad while you were away and he shipped me your grandmother’s recipe book that she gave your mom when she passed away. He said that nobody has used it in years. It is SO descriptive! AND… She notated the stuff that each of her kids, grandkids, and their spouses and stuff loved. So… I found all the ones marked “Simon,” bookmarked them, and discovered that you helped her create one of her treats!”

“I can’t believe she recorded that!” He laughed, explaining, “What I did was ruin a bunch of her stuff and whenever they caught me, my dad was ready to give me a spanking, but Nana intervened and asked, “Don’t you see that the boy’s a genius? Why, he just created my new favorite treat!” We took the broken gingerbread cookies and the snowmen, made smores and pretended that it was the after effects of a warzone. She let me tell the story of how they were fighting, because she’d missed out on that part of my game… That was… actually my first creative story that I shared with anybody. So, you actually just gave me a really special gift, because I hadn't considered that historical memory in years.” Grace’s eyes were wide and glossy. Simon stopped laughing to come to hug her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Grace.”

“Don’t thank her yet, you haven’t tasted it,” Hazel teased. She bit off the head of one of the additional gingerbread man cookies that weren’t in the war. It was actually really good! Simon’s grandma must’ve left great instructions, or Hazel was to thank for Grace following through so well with them.

Simon put off the rest of the decorations until the next day. Whenever he finished, Hazel was actually awestruck. The scene? Elves taking the sleigh on a joyride, one of them hanging off of the rails, one on a reindeer's back, one controlling the sleigh and one ducking in it, peeking out.

“How did you do this? How did you do that?” She asked about various aspects of the scene.

“I graduated from MIT,” Simon said, taking a sip of a mug of cocoa with a melting snowman marshmallow in it. Hazel still didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, but she now at least respected it.

Christmas Eve at Grace’s was everyone’s wildest dreams come true. At least the three of them. Grace had arranged matching jammies - they weren’t identical, but you know… the same designs/color pattern. They were reindeer themed and she had some for Samantha, as well. Samantha and Hazel had wearable antlers. Simon and Grace had hoodies that “turned them into” reindeer.

They worked on each other’s hair - Grace being exceptionally good at braids now gave Hazel an elaborate celtic braid that she had been wanting for a while, and Simon two French braids. Hazel and Simon bickered over who could be better at doing Grace’s hair and she wound up with one of them on each side, turning her into a lopsided headed hot mess. She took selfies of the act in progress and even went live to show people what she was doing with her Christmas Eve… just because sharing certain parts of her life was fun…

OF COURSE, she anticipated that she might accidentally get a shot of Simon’s face as she did this, but she was careful to try not to. Whenever she DID accidentally do so (or maybe someone heard his voice or Hazel say his name in the background or something), she had plenty of comments to ignore about the matter. But, someone within minutes had already created posts about Simon and Grace in family pajamas and doing each other’s hair.

When she turned it off, she reminded them that they weren’t saying anything about it. But, all of them had their own photos and people definitely were piecing together the matching pajamas, even though Simon wasn’t posting full photos of himself on his… he DID post photos of Hazel, Grace and Samantha. Eventually, Hazel, with her doe eyes told them that she wasn’t used to having a Christmas like this and she wanted an actual family photo. Simon made it happen, as the one who was best at it, and Hazel changed her profile pic to it. This was a Christmas dream come true for her, so Grace didn’t raise a fuss about the nosy people. Simon was grateful for that, too, as he wrapped himself around her, while Hazel laid her head on her lap for them to watch Christmas movies until Hazel fell asleep. Simon tucked her away in her bed, setting the atmosphere of the room the way that he had seen Grace do several times in the time that they had been spending time sleeping over at each others’ - the lighting, the diffuser, her Tuba stuffie, and Samantha had come into the room and curled around her feet. Simon gave Hazel’s hair a strumming and shut the door quietly behind him.

Whenever he went back out, Grace wasn’t in the living room anymore and she’d turned off the TV, so he presumed she went to bed, as well. He picked up any clutter they left laying around and put things back where they belonged before he retired too. Grace was… awake… She wasn’t in her matching pajamas anymore. Instead, she had on a red nightie that hardly covered anything, with some fun stuff beneath. He froze, shut the door, locked it. She leaned back against the pillows and smirked, “It’s Christmas Eve. I believe that you have something to show me.”

“Permission to present, Ma’am?”

“I consent.” Simon smiled and removed his pajamas before approaching the bed and removing his boxers. “Bring it here, for further inspection,” she said, with a teasing smile. He climbed into bed, and saw that she had on pasties that read “Naughty” and “Nice” and her thong had a picture of a mistletoe on the front. He stared at it and looked up at her. “I consent,” she repeated, to answer his unasked question.

They still weren't going all the way. Grace wasn't sure when she might be ready for that and Simon wasn't pressing his luck by asking for more. Besides, there were things far more important than sex and while her using favors and acts as a means to keep him… in line, he was more than appreciative about the fact that he was invited to spend New Year's Eve with she and her friends.

Whenever Mr. and Mrs. Monroe came over for the opening of the presents, Grace was back into her pajamas again and nobody ever would have known just how naughty she had been the night before. Hazel got more presents than were even reasonable, and Grace was given a lot by her parents and Simon, as well. Simon was surprised that her parents had bought him gifts as well. He had expected ones from Grace (was unsure about Hazel, but glad to receive from her too). There was… a lot of love he was feeling. It reminded him of whenever he used to spend holidays with the Monroes and be treated at least like he mattered, if not like family. He cried about it, apologizing to the Monroes for everything he'd done. Mrs. Monroe brushed it off, but he and Mr. Monroe wound up talking at length about things men are supposed to do and not supposed to do, why he had been disgusted by Simon's decisions, etc. At the end of it, Simon did feel like Mr. Monroe forgave him. Mrs. Monroe was always going to feel how she felt, and that was alright. It had to be, just like it had to be, that Simon was always going to feel how he felt about his parents… who also sent gifts for him and Hazel with the Monroes. Hazel and him decided that they would video call them together to thank them. Faith looked terrible. She looked like a fading ghost. But, she was starting to be nicer. Probably the guilt and the fear of thinking that something was next.

For Simon? What was next was here on Earth. Christmas Day yielded him having to put together things for Hazel and Grace, finish making sure that dinner was right, and continually try to score brownie points with Grace. The Monroes were staying at an upscale hotel, but stayed at the townhouse well past nightfall. Grace had kept certain things steady - the candles, sometimes throwing a little handful of herbs she selected into the fireplace, everyone’s drink glasses, and check-ins with Simon, to make sure he was still feeling okay, as this was their first Christmas together and her family could be stressful, etc. He was great. He never wanted it to end. He felt needed and wanted. He felt cared for and acknowledged. He didn’t even have that anxious feeling that it was all going to go away.

He wound up having to carry Hazel to bed. She fell asleep on her grandparents’ laps, playing on a new device they got her, which he put away first and tucked her in, accordingly.

“He seems very comfortable here,” Mrs. Monroe said.

“We’re working on things, Mom,” Grace said, nodding. Her parents had about the same amount of information that everyone else had about this situation. The more that they knew was that Simon would be there for Christmas. They hadn’t expected him to have slept over, in matching pajamas, to be cooking the food, building the toys, and certainly not for him to be tucking their granddaughter into bed. “We’ve been working on things since maybe a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving, give or take a few days.”

“So, he’s made this place a second home in a month’s time.” It was a statement.

“Mommy! Stop.”

Simon returned, just as cheerful as before and paused when he noticed the energy in the room. He pointed his thumb towards Hazel’s room and said, “I may have to add something in there to make storage more optimal, with all the new stuff..” Grace just smiled and nodded. “Did I interrupt something.”

“Just my reservations about you being here,” Mrs. Monroe said. Simon frowned and he nodded. “But, my daughter is an adult now. She makes her own decisions and if you tell her too much that she doesn’t like, she moves across the country and rarely calls…” Grace groaned, “SO! I guess my reservations will merely dissipate, like they’ve done in days past.”

“I think you should definitely feel how you feel…” He bit his lip and told Grace, “I’ll head home.”

“Head home? You’re not gonna stay?... and… help me clean up in the kitchen?” She asked… not wanting him to leave her alone with her parents and not wanting to say that either. But, he took the hint.

“Right! Sorry. Of course, I am.” He squeezed her hand and sat down beside her. There was some silence, then he broke it, “I know that everyone has reason not to believe me and I’m not going to beg anybody anymore… except for Grace, sometimes. At this point, it is out of everyone’s control whether or not I can be trusted, as Grace has decided to try to trust me. It’s now up to me to live up to that opportunity. Everyone is welcome to come to my house tomorrow and go through and see what I’ve been up to lately.”

They spent some time at his house the next day and now, Mrs. Monroe wondered, “Why didn’t you just host Christmas here?”

“Maybe next year,” Grace said, with a shrug. It was the best thing that Simon had heard. He smiled and blushed and puffed his chest out. She was considering that she hoped to still be with him next year. That was a perfect ending to his Christmas, and he prayed for New Year’s Eve to go well, too.

Shana fortunately was not going to be there. She and her girlfriend were in Cali for Christmas and New Year's. In fact, there were several other people that were there that hadn't been around for the birthday party Simon had sort of crashed. Tulip, Mikayla, and Julliard chick who he found out was named Chapa were there, along with the Black ginger dude, who they called Meta, and Damita, Grace's alleged best friend. There were about a dozen other people too. Among them, Ghairrisahn, and truth be told, seeing her again, and in close quarters, Simon was still a little bit smitten by her. But, he also kept looking at Grace, who had worn what was essentially sparkly jewelry out.

It was luminescent chain mail two piece, pleated like victory curtain swag that flowed like water and sparkles like embers whenever the light caught it. The cup only bra and seamless panty beneath was so customized to her skin tone, he'd thought that she was naked beneath and initially almost injured himself when she took off her fur coat.

Nobody in the room was as sexy… Though… he really had to admit… Her friends were all pretty sexy.

Someone offered him a beverage, and he declined, "I don't drink."

"Are you both straight edge?"

"No. I take a lot of meds and have a partially functioning liver and less than stellar spleen. Couldn’t afford to drink, if I was even tempted to."

"Jesus! A medical condition?"

"Ummm… the meds, yes. I've got delusional tendencies, ummm… not heavy, but enough that I need the additional assistance. The organs were the consequences to one of my many, many aggravated episodes."

"Which… were not actually related to his psychosis," Grace offered and threw him a look, wondering why he was divulging the information this way.

"Not directly. I have some struggles, but I also can be an asshole," he chuckled. "A little childhood trauma, poor early development resources and a personality disorder that I've been working through, with a lot of help…" he looked at Grace and she cupped his chin and smiled at him. That was enough to help him relax.

"You don't have to tell people all of that, Gray Eyes. “I’m on medication” is enough, or even, just “I don’t drink."

"It's… fine." He smiled back, his heart uncontrollable as he looked her way. God, she was beautiful and precious. He loved her so much. He loved that she was with him again, and that it was more than it had ever been before.

"How bout a virgin daiquiri?"

"Sure, thanks."

The night mellowed out after a while. Grace went to call in with the nanny to check on Hazel when it was her bedtime. Simon watched her as she stepped out of the room, sparkling and waited to see her strut back inside. "Hazel just went to bed," she told him.

A few moments later, Meta asked Simon, "Have you heard Grace freestyle?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Freestyle."

"Freestyle?"

"Rap…?"

"Rap…???" Simon immediately thought about when they were younger and Grace tried to rap. She was probably 13 he was sure not 14 yet, and it was both miserable to hear but the absolute best thing because it was so comical. That thought alone steered him from the surrounding conversation that followed onto laughing uncontrollably.

Grace and Ghairrisahn stared at him and others tried not to laugh at his response. Grace simply thought, ‘So, you’re just gonna sit here and laugh in my face like this?’ Tears were streaming from his eyes! When he finally composed himself he took a few moments trying to breathe again and asked, "Hmm?" he repeated, “Rap? Like… rap music?” He got up to find some tissue and Grace folded her arms, smirking. “I’M GONNA PEEE!!!” Simon called out, rushing to the bathroom.

He returned a few minutes later, seemingly composed, but muttered the word, “Rap,” and laughed again, though not as hard, this time.

Ghairrisahn suggested, "Let him listen to her Fat P**** verse."

Simon choked and his eyes were wide, "Her what?"

"Oh my God, you guys! That was so long ago!" Grace said. "Please, nobody have that! I already had to sit here and watch this man laugh harder than he ever has in all the years that I’ve known him."

"I have it," Damita said. “I still jam Fat P***y. Salty that they never made and released that. That was dope. We can always use more p***y songs, in my opinion.”

Simon was definitely on board to keep hearing pretty women casually say the P word, but his face must have shown his confusion, because Grace explained, "Whenever I first tried to make my mark in the New York music scene, they were wondering if I could rap, and I had been practicing…" Simon started laughing again, but she talked over him, "BECAUSE, I didn't like the way I used to sound. So I was trying to tap into like the hot girl aesthetic and when Sahn called to ask me if I wanted to write some songs for her and maybe work on demos with her, one of my more risque songs that was all singing of course, they asked, can you throw in a rap verse?"

“Here’s the verse,” Damita said and turned it up:

“Ever since I was a baby sucking on my mama teet, everybody realized, wasn't nobody hot as me.

I was born with it, true, I got it from my mama. Grew up, glowed up, now these b****** want drama.

Can't be mad at me cuz your men keep flocking. Girl I don't want them n****s, I tell them to keep walking.

Why do she? Act like she all that, stuntin hard, swear to God on all them alleycats.

Why she never shook when every other bitch would be?

I got too much of my own to ever act like a groupie. Every real n**** know that girl so bougie.

Why so many high rollers be wanting her to choose he?

Maybe that's because they know she got that good coochie.

That's right, fat p***y on my stat sheet. They wanna hit, but I only let ‘em eat me.

Pucker up, work that tongue until they can't breathe -

And only if they got the energy to please me… Fat P***y…”

The song went on to soulfully and smoothly sing about fat P, and there were whispers and ad libs that he knew were Grace. By the end, he wondered where her rap was. "What happened?"

"I practiced and got better at rapping, so my verse sounded good, but they didn’t like it. They felt like it was too much.”

He laughed. "That wasn't you!" They played it again and she rapped and sang along. Simon had a look in his eyes as he was forced to admit, "Well… you definitely got better than the rapping I remember."

Then, he was once again thinking about how she sounded way back when. It caused another fit of laughter. “Boy, fuck you!” Grace said and playfully kicked him. Even still, he couldn’t stop laughing.

What made matters worse was whenever Damita asked, “Was your rapping as bad as the freestyle you did on Tuba’s show?”

“WHAT???” Simon asked and howled at the sky. “PLEASE! PLEASE… Do you have that?”

“It’s online,” Damita said.

“Woooooow. You are such a fake friend,” Grace said.

“You… did it in a studio audience…”

Simon found the clip and it wasn’t actually bad. It was definitely of the Kids’ Bop variety, but he loved it. “You’re good at rapping now. Because, I mean… do YOU remember when you first tried?”

She shook her head, “No, that sounds made up. I think you imagined it.” Simon stopped smiling and stopped to think, with an anxious look on his face. Grace caught her mistake and winced. She climbed onto his lap and said, “No, no, no… I'm sorry. I didn’t think about it. I didn’t mean that. You didn’t imagine it. I definitely tried to rap and sounded like somebody’s suburban Becky with a struggle blaccent.” He took a deep breath and nodded. She took his chin in her hand and forced his lips to pucker for her to kiss. “Sorry about that. I promise, I didn’t mean to make you panic.”

“S’ok.” He smiled.

Ultimately he had Damita to send him the audio of the demo. As funny as the idea of her wrapping had been before, he couldn't deny that there was something very appealing about getting to hear her say that word over and over.

Ringing in a new year kissing her lips in front of other people felt like a tremendous accomplishment. Appearing in several of the photos with her and her friends that were circulating social media, and then leaving with her on his arm, in that goddamn bracelet from Tiffany's and the fur coat. Ghairrisahn gave him a kiss on the cheek goodnight. He and Tulip exchanged contact info for a possible work project later. Nobody punched him. He was able to get some friction action from Grace, to the point of losing control in his pants, and he had a new catchy song to sing and rap about.

Every time he brings it up, it's either him laughing about how he remembered her old rap, or him rapping sporadically about having a fat P… which.. also gave him a little chuckle. Neither of them knew at that time that he would walk around the house rapping it for a few weeks, every few months, for quite a while.

"For someone with little compact titties and a tight little petite butt, you do have a pretty fat pu-"

"I will definitely react in displeasure if you finish that statement…" They gave each other wincing smiles. He punctuated his by kissing her on the nose real quick.

Whenever Valentines Day rolled around, she told him that she didn’t really want to do anything… which he HATED, because he loved that day! But, she wanted to be lowkey and she didn’t think that he could manage lowkey. She decided to make him one of his beloved ASMR videos, of her eating chocolate covered fruit and sucking on ice cubes with edible flowers in them. “This is gonna help smooth me over for a long time,” he said watching it. “I made you a video too.”

“Send it to me!” she said.

Whenever she opened the video and it was a fanvid compilation of her dancing in music videos or her social media posts, played to match up with Fat P***y, she cackled, then shook her head, “I am so tired of your ass,” she joked.

That was around the time that the revised second book of Esmoroth: The Idol Princess Falls was released.

Hazel decided that she would read them to Grace, because it had become obvious that Grace was never going to read them for herself and things were always easier to hear when they came from Hazel. She loved Hazel’s voice. She was able to get both books read to Grace by the end of Spring Break that year. Grace frequently texted Simon her complaints with this Idol Princess and how she was depicted. He was working a lot of the time and grateful of that fact. She wasn’t cool with most of the first book. She warmed up with the second one, EVEN THOUGH the Idol Princess died near the end. Correction: The Future King KILLED her! KILLED HER. He tried to explain that he couldn’t change that portion. That it was important to the plot of the third book, where the Future King would be hunted down because of this murder and go on a journey to bring the Idol Princess back!

It was extremely important.

“Okay, but how does she ever forgive this motherfucker after the way that he turned on her for something that was a misunderstanding?? HE KILLED HER, SIMON!” He knew that most of her emotions were because of who those characters represented. That book sold more than the first one and she found herself in the Esmoroth fandom… at least incognito, seeing that the Idol Princess was actually quite hated and many were relieved of her death. They didn’t know yet that she would be back and it took a lot out of her not to tell those punks! Did they even read the same book?? Simon found her on the porch swing, with her phone, crying.

“Grace…”

“It’s the exile from the Apex all over again.” He kneeled beside her. “They’re treating her exactly like they treated me and what am I gonna do? Get upset over a fictional character? No. I’m upset over the fact that whether she’s fictional, or whether she’s real, this is what people always do. We can’t do anything right.” She wiped her tears. “She tried really hard to make everyone happy and she died trying to help him. Trying to SAVE him, and he purposefully killed her, and they STILL see her as the bad guy. It’s not fair.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the Apex and I’m sorry for the Esmoroth fandom…”

She sighed and shook her head, “Fuck them nerds, Man.” She said. But, she was still hurt. Mostly, because it felt so much like reopening wounds that she thought she had healed from. It got so bad to the point that Simon almost backed out of publishing the last one, but he HAD to publish that one! That was the story of how the Future King was willing to go through every trial and tribulation, face every danger and fear just to get his friend back. What he hadn’t told her was that the character ultimately has to be willing to die, himself in order to awaken her. He had a few different possible endings and he wasn’t sure which one was most sufficient. He figured that might be because his future with Grace wasn’t always very clear. Particularly after he awakened that pain of betrayal inside of her.

The couple’s and group therapy was especially helpful during this time, because she honestly felt unreasonable in how upset this story made her, and had to remember and realize that her feelings weren’t necessarily towards the book’s feedback, but her own unaddressed hurt for the way that she had been treated. Sure, she had forgiven Simon, but at Simon’s initial harm, she had been subjected to thousands of hurtful opinions and harassment. She had spoken to a few people and rectified things - Shana, Simon, her parents… but what about the general public? What about her former “friends” and “followers” online? The people who she didn’t know before who appeared simply to speak on how much they hated a 16 year old girl. The people who made her life hell by forcing their way into her mentions, and into her mind… and once again… Simon, because he KNEW that they would and he KNEW it would hurt, because she had been very open with him at the time that such things were hurting her.

How was she supposed to build with someone who she would apparently for at least a long time, if not forever, she would think about how he tore her down. How he learned everything about her when they loved each other only to use things against her when he thought they didn’t.

Once upon a time, Simon was convinced that he had never done anything wrong in his life and that every time something happened that was wrong in his world, it was because of the people around him doing things to him, which was true in certain cases, but certainly not in every case, and definitely not in Grace’s case… But, once he felt attacked, all bets were off and he wasn’t letting up on her. It reached the point where she wondered if it was her fault and while she suffered her breakdown, before he was ever forced to get help of his own… she had attackers from all sides. Strangers. Associates. Fake friends… And they all rose against her, despite the fact that she was already down and the fact of the matter was and always would be that she was already down because Simon KNOCKED her down.

And… she had loved him through it. She’d always loved him. It was something that she felt so stiupid about for so long, while she was recovering, and for a time, she didn’t feel that way. In fact, as of the moment, Simon had done absolutely nothing to make her recall the hurt. She might have been offset by reading those books, and escalated it by checking out the fandom, but while he would always have a fear of abandonment from his mom or whatever… she was starting to feel like she would always have the fear of his betrayal. She was willing to hear him out, to work on establishing boundaries and rebuilding trust, rebuilding love, but there would probably always be the underlying torment, “I didn’t know how much he hated me, before. How can I ever know that I haven’t made one of his hard to determine mistakes and that he isn’t in the process of making me pay for it?” She asked, crying. “I just… have to trust him… but… I thought I did, then suddenly… I realize out of nowhere, maybe I don’t. Maybe I can’t. Maybe I never will.”

Simon started crying but he put one hand over his face and tried to suck it up. “The worst part is that he’s done nothing to provoke this wave of distrust… so it feels like there's not really anything that he could do to reassure me. He was already in the process of reassuring me and this just arose…" Simon sobbed. "Simon…" he shook his head. "This is what happens. When something comes up, he feels responsible, then I feel bad."

"I AM responsible. It doesn't matter if it was years ago. The damage was done and I'm the one who did it."

"Have you to tried taking some space apart to just be able to find each of your bearings without leaning on how each other makes you feel?"

They hadn't. But, now that the counselor suggested it,they would. Grace worried about Simon… that he might… react. She spent the first few days paranoid, checking behind her and being startled by every surprise sound at home.

During that time, one of her music videos released and the internet was abuzz with the racy nature of her single Lovedrunk Country and certain scenes in the video, including her choreography which included pole dancing, a peepshow setting, and at least one lapdance in which she is seen dancing with her thighs open in the recipient's face.

Someone (many someones) asked Simon what he thought about the video and he said, "It's an incredibly sexy video with awesome costume design and chorography. Who doesn't want to be the guy in the chair?"

She'd warned him whenever they were filming of some of the stuff in the video, but she had forgotten by the time it aired and worried that he might have too.

Grace: Heyyy… How is everything?

Simon: Confusing.

Grace: How do you mean?

Simon: I'm on so much meds right now.

Grace: For what?

Simon: The usual + I'm sick. ☹️

Grace: Do you need some help?

Simon: I don't want to trouble anybody.

Grace: Ummm. Who is "anybody?" Your concerned lovelady is worried! I'm coming over.

Simon: You don't have to do that. I need you to feel safe.

Grace: Are you contagious?

Simon: It's an infection. But… I meant because of therapy…

Grace: It's passed. I miss you, Fool.

Simon: 🥺 I've been miserable.

That happened from time to time. They'd be flourishing. They'd be fine. Then, they'd be frustrated and need to give each other a little room (technically, it was almost always Grace), as Simon really did seem as though he was willing to go through anything just to make sure he was always near her. Sometimes that meant going through time apart from her. But they didn't put their relationship on hold. Whenever they were taking space it was literally just that. Going to their own homes for a little bit until everybody was comfortable again.

By May, Hazel's 11th birthday, they threw the party at Simon's house. That June, Grace's album came out. That July, Mrs. Monroe said that she was looking for a surrogate, so that she and Mr. Monroe could try again at another child. Simon's 24th birthday, he announced that a major studio made a deal with him for the Book of Esmoroth. By Grace's 24th, the Monroes had found their surrogate. That Halloween, Simon and Hazel had dressed as some characters from some sci fi or fantasy world of theirs and Grace was dressed down, in a hoodie and some yoga pants with her fro pulled forward. Because, she was always dressing up and having to look amazing. Halloween was a day that she dressed up by not dressing up at all. Four days later, Simon's dad called to tell him that his mother had "Gone to be with the Lord."

Simon didn't want to go back to her services if Grace wasn't going to be with him. So, her parents kept Hazel while she went along for emotional support… and Simon needed more than he thought he would for losing his mom..

She was "dead to him" long ago. Even in her last days, it was like staring at a corpse that was making groaning noises. She'd lived past when they thought, but she never actually told Simon that she forgave him, and people's insistence on saying that now Faith and Hope were together just made him furious.

He took a leave of absence from work and saw the grief counselor a little more frequently. Grace made recipes she had bookmarked, hoping that might make him feel better on the home front. He wasn't coming out of the house, so she and Hazel spent Thanksgiving week at his.

Hazel wondered, "Are you going to be well enough to cook for Thanksgiving? You might not remember, but you said that you'd make turducken… if you don't… Grace will try… three birds will have died in vain…" Simon snorted and tousled her hair. "She's really worried about you."

"I'm trying really hard to get better for you two…"

"No. That's not what you need to be doing. You need to be trying to get better for you."

"My therapist has told me that before."

"And what? You pay him to not listen to him?"

Simon shook his head, "I don't understand why I'm so sad. She was a bad person who was bad to me. She hurt me and made me as bad as her, maybe worse. Why would I care that she's gone?"

"It doesn't matter why. You do, and that's gotta be okay, because you obviously can't control it. Let yourself feel whatever you need to and try to get better for you. In the meantime, I wasn't playing about that turducken. You… can't let Grace try to take on something like that. She just started making edible food like… this year…"

He cackled and Grace peeked in, "Hey Ho Whoa! Is my loveman feeling better?" He caught her eye and forced a smile. She knew it was fake, but it was the first he'd tried in weeks, so she felt better. Simon forced himself into the kitchen that week to make Thanksgiving happen. Grace and Hazel followed whatever instructions he gave for additional help, and after he was actually up and about making himself useful and spending time with his favorite two people, he felt better too.

This year, he was thankful for another year with them… "Oh God… I let our first anniversary slip by!"

"Simon… I don't know what day that was even."

"November 5th," Simon said. "Because that remember, remember the 5th of November rhyme was in my head…"

"Ohhhh." Grace winced and she bit her lip. "I mean… it makes sense you forgot… the day started with your mom…" Simon frowned. That was the same day?

"SHE. RUINS. EVERYTHING!" he roared. Hazel squealed and fell to the floor. Simon got up and stormed out of the back door. Grace heard him screaming and hitting things and it had been a really long time since he did anything like that. Hazel was crying… so she wasn't a turtle. Grace helped her up and brought her to her room then went to check on Simon.

He was bound to snap, the way that he had been holding everything in all month. He was pacing and she stayed on the porch and observed. "Simon?"

He shook his head, "No. No, I'm not coming back inside like this. "She just… with her last breath had to take something else away from me…"

"She took nothing but her last breath, Si."

"That day can't be special without me having to think about her dying!"

Grace came down off the porch, "That day can be whatever we say it is, because we're still here. She's dead. Her power should be gone, Simon." She offered a smile, then asked, "Did I ever tell you about the first ceremony that Hazel and I ever attended together?" She explained meeting Hazel, and the way that she put everything to rest for her… "I think one of the main reasons that you can't get past this is because you felt like you were supposed to be giving her tribute. You felt like because you were sad and morning that that meant that you had to pay your respects. But when you tried you didn't find any. That's okay Simon. You don't have to pay respects. You could simply send her off with your truth. Whatever that is you've got to face it. you can't bottle everything in and then just explode like that in front of Hazel. She was terrified."

He looked guilty and sad as he rushed back in to apologize. Hazel took it well. And when he mentioned that ceremony of theirs, Hazel and Grace went back outside with him so that he could have his own. It was mostly accusations, frustrations, and some yelling… but he got it all off of his chest, the way that couldn't be done at a proper funeral. After that, he honestly and truly started feeling like his good self again.

By Christmas, as was hoped the previous year, Grace still had him in her life. They did Christmas at his house that year.

#If They Didn't Get on the Train #AU Infinity Train #Infinity Train #Nesha Fanfiction #Infinity Train Fanfiction #fics #editing later

13 notes · View notes

bigskydreaming · 4 years

Note

You’re a disgusting, abuse-survivor-shaming cunt. I hope you choke, I truly do.

So I get way more of these kinds of messages than I could possibly ever count. Have been for years. I don’t generally reply to them the way I mock some other hate messages I can at least have fun with, because like, what’s there to say about this kinda thing, y’know?

I don’t know how to get people to understand that there is NOTHING hypothetical about my anger about the things in fandom I get angry about. My rants about dark fic are PERSONAL, they have NOTHING to do with some arbitrary moral superiority stance. I don’t make assumptions as to others’ survivor status or motivations for writing various things because I don’t HAVE to, my anger and frustration are with the OUTPUT, not the inciting reasons.

My hostility towards fandom comes directly from the hostility fandom shows me every time people try to convince me that I have no reason to have the reactions I do to the way they interact with the extremely combustible topics that define my own trauma and that of others. And the fact that fandom at large has decided that the ONLY acceptable reactions from survivors upon seeing others engaging with these sensitive topics in any way they choose, is either to be silent, or to take part in it.

I don’t have to know which writers of which fics are or aren’t actually survivors attempting coping mechanisms of their own to be fucking furious at the way fandom has literally commodified these traumas, made them exploitable by making the catchphrase “some people write dark fic to cope” all-inclusive, utilized by anyone. With no shame or self-scrutiny as to the fact that YOU at least know if you are or aren’t a survivor, and if you aren’t one, you have ZERO business offering this particular line up as a defense to any survivor taking issue with the ways you embrace particular topics in particular ways.

The only things I have any interest in shaming people for is their choices, the fucking CHOICE to turn on any survivor who dares say “I have issues with this take” and this goes for abuse as much as it does rape. I’ve lost count of the number of authors over the years who HAVE spoken of being rape survivors specifically but then turn around and treat childhood physical abuse as their personal playground, with none of the care they put into crafting rape storylines on display when they casually have male abuse survivors punching each other in every other argument and just citing ‘boys will be boys.’ I can have sympathy for their status and experiences as rape survivors while still being upset at how they simultaneously perpetuate so many of the untruths that make it so hard for abuse survivors to affirm that they have actually been abused rather than call it something that its not, something that they’ve seen writers call it because the writers simply don’t want to inspect the fact that they’ve casually and without awareness written their characters abusing another.

It’s not a zero sum game.

I get angry not because I feel powerless in my own life (I don’t, actually, thanks, I’ve taken actionable steps every single day to fix what’s wrong in my own life and lol that’s power baby), and not because I’m fixated on my own trauma and unwilling to move past it (lol yeah I have no money to spend on anything BUT therapy because I’m committing to the highly specialized and expensive therapy I only arrived at after years of trial and error with other forms because I just don’t want to move past any of this, okay sure).

Nah, I get angry because of the galaxy brain intellects who smarmingly just decide on this view of me for themselves, condescension dripping from every ‘well-meaning’ expression of contempt sympathy, with zero examination of the fact that like.....idk guys, its a little hard to move past my trauma when everyone ELSE seems more fixated on it than I do! LOL, so we’re just gonna skip merrily on by the fact that the only reason its an ISSUE for me in fandom is because its EVERYWHERE in fandom, huh? ‘Mind the tags’ people parrot mindlessly, as though its not like tags HAVE to be created with self-awareness for what people are supposed to mind, or like I haven’t had people literally try to trigger me with tags aimed specifically at getting under my skin as ‘payback’ for something I wrote (out of moral superiority, naturally, not a visceral display of emotion, never that). As though the tags have anything to do with the fact that even outside of Ao3, there are incest-themed shipping weeks every single month of the year, that every major discord server and fic exchange and other fandom wide event demands participants be ‘ship-friendly’ which might as well be code for ‘not friendly to anyone who doesn’t prioritize ships over survivors,’ like fandom hasn’t created a culture in which people are more inclined to be defensive over how people make writers FEEL about stuff they’ve written than they are to be defensive over how certain writing makes various survivors feel.

I’ll never get over how a fandom that universally expressed disdain for Devin Grayson’s disrespectful handling of the sensitive topic of rape has obliviously embraced every form of euphemism under the sun for their own content, and just flat out REFUSES to concede that there is ANY room for criticism in ANY handling of even the most sensitive of topics. Because there’s no sensitivity allowed when it comes to any topic in fandom....unless its the writer’s sensitivity, that must be respected at all costs.

Does that not really strike you as....odd? Aren’t there lines out there about how no society or culture or environment that truly embraces free speech can simultaneously embrace freedom from criticism? And yet time and time again, its anyone who dares criticize - in ANY fashion - the HOW of what someone wrote, not even the WHY, they’re the ones termed authoritarian, censor, the one attempting to SHUT DOWN conversation rather than expand upon it. Tell me, what conversation was THIS anon and similar ilk attempting to invite? Every criticism I write of fandom invites people to engage with it. I fucking BEG people to engage with it. You’re the ones who choose not to. At least not in good faith. Because its only when I refuse to let you move the goalposts from anything other than this being about me reacting to what you wrote, no aim at doing anything other than being a reaction to an action, not an attempt to tell you what to do, just an attempt to get you to tell me WHY, if it really is as defensible as you loftily claim it is - then why is it you just can’t tell me, straight to my face, that it doesn’t matter what negative reaction your writing evokes, you don’t actually have to care? Cuz you don’t, of course. But if you’re that content with your own motivations, your own impact, why so uncomfortable just saying that?

The funny thing is, I truly don’t make any assumptions as to the why of anyone writing dark fic. I have a lot to say about the fact that we all know damn well that at least some of the people offering up the ‘some survivors use dark fic to cope’ aren’t speaking of themselves when they do so, but I have ZERO interest in imagining who that is and why. I’ve spoken of the fact that its willful naivete to assume that even if your own motivations for writing certain content are innocent in your own mind, you can’t assume the same of EVERYONE. That its nothing but willfulness to pretend that actual predators don’t peruse the same content. That the very same factors that make Dick Grayson so appealing to survivors, for example, as a strong heroic character who neverthless has been victimized and violated more than once - the flip side of this coin is this of course makes him EQUALLY appealing to people on the other end of things....a strong heroic character who nevertheless can be victimized and violated more than once.

And yet I honestly, truly have no interest in figuring out who might be whom, when it comes to writers, and I don’t assume everyone who writes or reads certain content in certain ways is in the latter camp. IT DOES ME NO GOOD, to go through life assuming that many people are all potential rapists or inclined to side with my own rapists’ or abusers’ side of things. I CHOOSE to give people the benefit of the doubt there, I assume perhaps they ARE survivors trying in good faith to cope with their own trauma and defensive about hearing that butts up against with other survivors trying to move on in other ways, or that they’re simply people who grew up in fandom being told there is nothing they can write that can be termed wrong, and have trouble with such a deeply held conviction being contested. Or perhaps only got into shipping incest because the ‘fandom elders’ of various fandoms like SPN deliberately and with full intent once upon a time pitched incest as being the same kind of taboo relationship that the same kind of people who forced gay men into secretive relationships were against....that incest ships and closeted gay ships were basically the same, and so as the latter became less of a thing as media showed more open gay relationships, incest ships became more of a thing among fans who were really compelled by the secretive/’society’s against them’ aspect of forbidden love.

I don’t assume any of that on a ONE TO ONE basis with any single writer or reader because I don’t KNOW their personal story and I’m not TRYING to. It makes no difference when I’m not talking about or arguing against the WHY of someone doing a thing, but the HOW. The end result, and the interactions it creates in the environment in which their output is published, shared, celebrated.

All at the expense of any survivor who doesn’t enjoy seeing things they’ve struggled with getting taken seriously about, maybe all their lives....not taken seriously, and offered up as just a themed week on the latest fantasy porn prompt generator. The problem with incest shippers isn’t even just ‘you ship incest, why do you do that,’ its that you can’t seem to manage to do it without assuming anyone who objects is only doing so out of a place of moral superiority. You try and make it a hypothetical argument “well what about when you do this” as opposed to something rooted in the here and now of the personal. We’re not talking about what ifs, we’re talking about what is. Deal with that before you try raising something else, instead of always raising something else so you never have to deal with that.

The problem is people condescendingly assuming we have ZERO basis for any objection, or any negative reaction at all. Its our own fault, you see, for being too stupid to get that fiction doesn’t affect reality (even though we’ve debunked that time and time again). Its our own fault, you see, for not getting that its not really incest BECAUSE (a claim that is never actually as universal as it tries to pretend to be, and thus is never more than a distraction for the specific argument that prompted it). Its our own fault, you see, for not getting that this isn’t really a big deal, there are bigger problems, and its awfully sad if we’re so fragile and delicate we can’t handle someone enjoying something that has nothing to do with us (even though its never your call whether or not it has anything to do with us, just as its never our call what your specific motivations for writing specific content might be).

The problem is the same thing I’ve been dealing with all my life, and all the more exhausting for it being front and center in fandoms that claim to be escapism and catharsis for survivors....as long as those survivors perform in the manner fandom is comfortable with....aka the manner fandom has exploited and commodified in order to make certain manners of enjoying certain topics possible and defensible for ALL fans, regardless of their own connection to such topics, or motivations surrounding them.

Denial, avoidance, and abdication of responsibility. There’s no problem if YOU don’t see a problem, after all. There can’t be a problem if you just refuse to acknowledge a problem. A problem has nothing to do with you if you simply have nothing to do with it.

And all the while, you continue engaging in the same behaviors that provoke the same reactions that you refuse to ever actually engage with or address, relying on gaslighting to try and sell people and everyone around them that THEY’RE the real problem....its us that have no respect for freedom of speech, creativity or the creative process, other peoples’ traumas, the difference between fantasy and reality, etc etc ad nauseam.

We see people waving away instances of physical abuse with textbook abuse apologism, and we’re told we don’t know what we’re talking about. We see people offering up wording and phrasing in the comment sections of fics that are literally textbook grooming techniques we recognize from our own experiences and we’re told we’re imagining things. We see characters raping others without it being described as rape and we’re told we didn’t mind the tags, even though oddly enough, none of the tags actually said ‘rape’ but rather other euphemisms and if they aren’t in place to tell readers not to expect actual rape in the actual fic, then, what purpose is it they actually serve, again?

But sure.

Talk to me some more about survivor-shaming.

17 notes · View notes

sea-side-scribbles · 3 years

Text

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/77481449

Chapter 60

After a passionate night, Nick woke up refreshed and in high spirits. He lay facing Arthur, who was awake too, and they tiredly but happily blinked at each other. “Good morning, King“, Nick said quietly, adoring the view. “Good morning, Nick“. “Looks like it’s going to be another wonderful day in Wellington Wells, huh?“ Arthur chuckled. “Looks like it, yeah.“ Their hands found each other, then Nick grabbed the other man’s shoulders to pull him closer. “Come here, you rascal“, he muttered and kissed Arthur with passion. “You’re calling me a rascal? That’s bold.“ “Bold is my middle name.“ Arthur laughed. “That’s fitting.“ “No one knows but us“, Nick whispered, “It’s our secret now“. Still giggling, Arthur got up. “Come on, it’s obvious you need your coffee.“

Nick stayed in bed, steadying himself with his elbow and watching his lover go. “Aww, you’re gonna make me some?“ “I’ll try…“, Arthur said, examining the expensive coffee machine that looked like it could fit into a rocket ship. “It’s not that hard…“, Nick assured him. “Are you gonna watch me all the time?“ Arthur became a bit nervous. Nick turned his gaze away. “No“, he said. “I’ll just lie here and wait to be served by a king.“ He made Arthur chuckle again. “Only happens when you’re a god.“ “I’m delighted that finally all these years of hard work pay off.“ “Hard work my arse“, Arthur teased him. “Writing a few songs, partying all day with your fans and writing your name on papers and women’s necklines while your manager does all the work…“ “What was that? Do you want me to come over?“ “You mean, you’ll get out of bed? Wait, I need to capture that on camera! It’s gonna be on the front page!“ “Arthur Hastings, you better stop shitting around and bring me my coffee right now!“ “I’m almost there, trust me, it’ll launch any second!“ Nick sighed dramatically and fell back into the pillows. “What have I done to deserve you?“

Arthur decided to press a button and it actually made coffee come out. “Wait another second, Nicky, your pain will be over soon.“ “Don’t forget I’m also hungry!“, the rockstar demanded. “Feed me or I’ll eat you instead!“ “It’s tempting, really, but I’ll see what I can do.“ A minute later, Arthur had prepared something he considered a good enough random breakfast and brought it back to the rockstar who gave him a glare. Arthur stopped. “Are we good again? Or will you jump at me as soon as I come closer?“ Nick stretched himself. “I think I’ll still my hunger first…and then who knows?“ He shrugged and gave him a mysterious look. Arthur took the risk and joined Nick on the bed. He took a mug and handed it to the other man, who had already held up his hand. “I hope this is coffee“, Arthur said. Nick looked like he was about to burst into laughter but caught himself. “I hope so too…for your own sake…“ Arthur sipped from his own mug and nodded in relief. “At least it tastes like it.“ Nick was quickly trying his too and then closed his eyes to savour it. “Perfect“, he muttered. “Oh, that’s quite appeasing…“ He sank down on Arthur’s shoulder and the other man pressed his cheek against the soft hair. His hand was stroking Nick’s shoulder and he smiled uncontrollably. He was so glad to be here, looking forward to another stroll in the Garden District, or letting Nick show him around town, all the places only a VIP could have access to. They would have a truly wonderful time.

“Nicky…“, he whispered. Nick made a “Hmmm?“ Arthur picked up a biscuit and held it up to his lover’s mouth. “You said you’re hungry. Now eat up.“ Nick accepted. Then he lifted himself up and started to nibble at Arthur’s cheek. “The food, not me…!“, Arthur winded giggling. “I’m sorry, but you’re much more delicious.“ “Help!“, Arthur laughed. “A rock idol eats me!“ “Sssh…quiet, you make everyone jealous and I can’t eat them all.“ Arthur held up another biscuit. “There, try that!“ Nick pouted. “Come on, Nicky, I want to live a little bit longer.“ “Fine“, Nick sighed and took it with his teeth. “That’s a good boy…you’ll see it’s better to spare me for a while,“ Arthur said and rubbed his lover’s back as proof. “Only when you’re nice…“, Nick muttered. Arthur kissed his cheek. “I love you, Nick.“ The feeling that bloomed in Nick’s chest felt better than caffeine.

They continued their breakfast until the plate was empty. After putting it away, Arthur looked at Nick with excitement in his eyes. “Where are we going now? I’ll do whatever you like!“ Nick wiped his hands clean, thinking. “I have to take care of a few things…“, he explained. Arthur’s face fell a little. “Oh…“ “No, no, no, I’ll come back“, Nick added quickly. “But, uh… you wanted to move in, right?“ Arthur’s eyes widened. “I need to prepare something…“ And someone, Nick thought… “Oh, Nick, you’re making me so happy!“ Arthur hugged him tightly. “Can I help you somehow?“ “No, I have to do that myself“, Nick answered and gave Arthur’s back a gentle pat. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back.“ They kissed again. “I love you“, Nick said before he got up and left Arthur who remained with mixed feelings.

Nick couldn’t claim that he was completely calm about what he was going to do, but he had prepared himself the entire night, after he had decided to submit to his love and let fate decide the rest. Now he knew that he would tell Morrie everything, after he had tried to fight Arthur off and failed. That was his fate now. But as Morrie had said, they’d face their problems together, and Nick would submit to that too, whatever happened. He hoped Morrie hadn’t been too upset all night. Perhaps he had been to tired to notice that his naughty lover went away. Or he had indeed been upset and left himself. Nick considered that too. And then, he’ll seek him everywhere and beg and plead until he got him back, even ask the band for help. Anything. He won’t lose him again. This time, he’d fight.

When he climbed out of the hatch, his eyes fell on something dark in the high grass. Examining it, it turned out to be a man lying on the ground. Well, it was about time he stumbled into another Wellie during his forbidden strolls, Nick thought. And at least this one was asleep. He would’ve moved on if he hadn’t noticed that the tips of the grass around the man were painted red. Wondering, he looked closer and found that there was trail of red color leading from somewhere behind the fountain right to the man. Oh, no…not again… And here, of all places, so close to me. He noticed the odd smell when he walked closer to the man, who looked weirdly familiar to Nick. Please, not another critic… Nick turned the figure on it’s back with his feet and then stared into dead brown eyes.

“Morrie?“, he whispered. Morrie was silent. “Morrie, what are you doing here?“ Nick knelt down, grabbed his lover’s arms and shook him. “Why are you here? Morrie, stop it, this isn’t funny! Come on, I’ll tell you everything! Do you hear me? I’ll tell you…“ Morrie’s head helplessly moved about, his eyes were staring. Looking down, Nick saw a red and fleshy mess that was spilling out of his lover’s body. He halfway knelt on it, blood and some thick smear dampened his trousers. Nick wiped the cloth and his fingers touched something wobbly and fleshy. He examined it closely. With it’s greasiness and smell of blood it reminded him of something he had held in his hands before. In a different night. It took a few seconds until he started to scream. He didn’t notice that he alerted a couple of Wellies to come and watch. When a tall figure grabbed him and tried to shove him away, he fought back, punching and kicking. He also bit an arm, before he received a punch against his temple and everything went black.

Nick moaned loudly when he woke up. He must’ve had a funny night, since his head was throbbing and he felt like someone had beaten him up with a truncheon. Those damn critics! “Virgil!“, he yelled. “Virgil! I need my party favors!“ Seconds later, the door opened and his manager hurried in, ready to help his rockstar out. Good man. “Virgil!“, Nick whined and stretched out a hand. “My head is killing me!“ Virgil nodded. “I’ll be back“, he said and went out. “Hurry up!“ Nick shouted after him, stroking his poor head. He decided to hide under the blanket until Virgil shook him. “Nick? Nick, are you there?“ Virgil sounded worried. He grabbed the blanket and pulled it down. “Careful!“, Nick protested. “Of course I’m here! I’m waiting for you!“ He clutched the glass Virgil gave him and drank whatever it was. After all, Virgil knew how to bring him back into shape. “Much better!“, he brought out. Then he looked at his manager, wondering. “And my party favors?“ Virgil looked confused. “Uh…I mean the red and yellow ones…ring a bell? Not the blues! And especially not the purples, okay? The reds and yellows!“ His manager still didn’t move. “The longish ones, not the conic shaped…ah…“ Nick wiped his head again. “Fuck it, bring me all of them, I’ll take a pick!“ “But, Nick…,“ Virgil began. “What? Are they out?“ Nick sat up. “Virgil, you better go and get some before I lose my head…ah…!“ He fell back down. “Don’t you see I’m suffering!“ “Nick, you stopped taking them a couple of weeks ago, remember?“ Nick stared at him. “You’re on rehab and you’re taking Blackberry Joy.“ Nick mused as good as he could. “Oh…“, he then said. “Of course, my pills…my band…“ He handed the glass back to his manager. “Could you give me another one of this then? Please? Joy doesn’t help against headaches, you know? And I’m sorry for yelling at you, I love you,“ he said quieter. Virgil went out once more. Nick now waited patiently.

The second glass felt even better. “What would I do without you?“, he sighed lovingly at his manager until his gaze fell on his trousers. “Oh, shit!“, he blurted out, staring at the damage. “Those were my favorites! Oh…no…Morrie can’t see me like this!“ He jumped up, headache forgotten. “Oh, what a mess! Also, I wanted to tell Morrie something important but I forgot what it was!“ He pulled up the cloth on his legs. “Virgil, I’m gonna change now and you can do what you want!“ He grabbed his belt and was about to undo it when Virgil jumped to him and held it up. “Nick, no!“ Nick gave him a surprised look, then it turned into a smug grin. “If Morrie saw us now, how would we explain this?“ Virgil’s expression was worried. “Nick…Morrie is…“ Nick’s heart sunk. “Gone?“, he asked. “Where? Back home? I need to…“ He closed his belt again and attempted to leave, but Virgil held him back. “You better sit down again.“ Virgil led him back to his bed. “No, it’s fine…I knew this would happen…I have a plan, Virgil, I need to…“ His manager however pressed him down until he sat. “Virgil!“, Nick protested but the man gave him a look that made him freeze. “Nick…“, he tried again. “Morrie is not at home. He’s gone…on holiday.“ “On holiday?“ Nick was confused. “Without me? Where?“ He eyed Virgil, begging. The other man bit his lip, pondering. “He’s dead“, he finally said. Nick fell silent.

“He was found near a hatch to the underground. He died just like Kitty and her husband. You were there, too. The Bobbies brought you here and you lost consciousness,“ Virgil explained. Nick’s mind span, images flew by. The hatch…Arthur…and then Morrie…blood in the grass… He looked at his legs again and jumped up. “No!“, he yelled. “I can’t wash them ever again! This is Morrie’s blood! The last memory I have of him! My last memory…“ Nick crouched into a corner, hands searching for something in his jacket. Virgil only noticed that he suddenly had a handful of black pills from somewhere and lifted them up to his mouth. “No!“, Virgil shouted. “Not all of them at once, put them down!“ But it was too late. Nick gulped them down and instead of a swarm of butterflies he saw a stream of flesh and blood break through the window, the door and swell through the floor. The metallic smell nearly choked him. He stared in awe wile it buried him until he fell unconscious again.

Coming back to himself, he felt empty and cold. His hands were shivering. It must’ve been the flash. All the colors were sucked out of the world, and all the warmth. He remembered what Virgil had said but couldn’t let it into his heart. Even Virgil could be wrong sometimes. Had Morrie really been here? Or had that been only a dream he made up to comfort himself? Later, he walked along the corridor to the guest room that Morrie had used. He knocked at first, but no one answered, so he went inside. Seconds later he was sure that his lover had been here. The desk was littered with papers, all music sheets filled with his handwriting. A little picture frame stood on it, too. It held a photo that Nick had never noticed when he had visited Morrie here. Now he jumped when he saw Morrie and himself as teenagers, smiling happily and living forever behind a sheet of glass. When did they take that photo? Did Morrie have it all the time? The next thing he saw startled him too. It was a colorful flower bouquet, not yet glowing red because they stood in bright daylight. How did they get there? They had a new vase and everything. Did Morrie bring them here? So Nick wouldn’t kick them over again? He knew that his lover loved flowers, but…the flowers of a rival? Nick took the vase, then he hesitated. It felt wrong to take them away from him now. If he liked them…Nick hadn’t been kind to them. And after all, it didn’t matter anymore….it didn’t matter…. On his bed, he found a neatly folded suit Morrie had been wearing before the party. Nick palpated the soft fabric, closed his eyes, took in the scent and imagining the body underneath it. But he knew the real body would never wear that suit again. Nick pressed his face into it and sobbed.

His mind tortured him with the memory of his poor lover, thrown away like a piece of trash. Who would do such a thing? Now all he had left were the remnants of his blood. Nick palpated his knees. They were perfectly dry. Nick opened his eyes and stared at a completely clean piece of cloth. “Virgil!“, he yelled, dashing through the door. “Virgil, you have to see this!“ His manager came running up the stairs. “I’m here, Nick! What’s wrong?“ “My trousers…“, Nick said happily and pulled up the legs to show him. “I had blood on them, and now it’s gone! It’s gone!“ Virgil made an uncomfortable face. “These are not the ones you’ve been wearing.“ Nick looked at them again. “Yes, Virgil! I haven’t changed! I woke up like this!“ “I changed them for you.“ “What? No, you don’t undress me while I’m blacked out, don’t be ridiculous!“ “Sometimes it’s the only way to get you properly dressed…“, Virgil said quietly. “Huh?“ “I…I didn’t want you to see it again and take another overdose. I think seeing it once is enough.“ Nick suddenly looked very sad. “I’m sorry, Nicky…“, Virgil whispered. “I’m sorry.“

Now that the last hope was taken from him, Nick began to cry again, covering his face with his hands. Virgil lay an arm around him and guided him back into his bedroom. Nick clutched his manager as soon as he felt the warm body. Virgil sat down on Nick’s bed, holding his devastated rockstar in his arms. Nick couldn’t tell how often he had cried on Virgil’s shoulder like that. But now it would never be alright again.

“What am I doing without him now? I don’t know what to do…“ Virgil patted his back. “Nicky….where have you been last night?“ Nick’s heart cramped. He only cried louder. “If you saw something….anything that could help catch this insane killer…“ “I didn’t see him!“, Nick sobbed. “When I found Morrie he was already…“ “Do you know what Morrie wanted out there?“ Nick curled his fingers into Virgil’s suit. That wasn’t the kind of confession he had planned. “I think he was…looking for me.“ Virgil caressed his hair. “And where have you been?“ Another deep sob. “Do you remember the suite I have in the underground? I was there.“ “Alone? Weren’t you with Morrie?“ “No…“, Nick fell quiet again. “Another bird, huh?“, Virgil guessed. Almost right. Nick looked at him. Wasn’t it for the best if that was all he knew?

Virgil’s expression went darker. “And you’re sure you didn’t have a fight about it? I know that Morrie was trying to start over new with you.“ “What do you mean? Do you think I killed him?“ Nick let go. Virgil didn’t answer. “I…I loved Morrie! You know that!“ “Really? This is how you treat your loved ones? You didn’t even tell him that you didn’t want a new chance!“ “But I wanted it!“ “And the bird was only an accident?“ Nick wrapped his arms around himself. “I wanted to tell him everything today!“ “Perhaps you already did.“ “No…“, Nick sobbed. “I didn’t see him. Please, Virgil, believe me!“ “I don’t know…you were so happy with Morrie. I can’t believe you betrayed him like that. Are you sure he didn’t come with you?“ Nick’s face turned red. “No…“, he said looking at the blanket. “I was with someone else.“ “Ah, well“, Virgil said. “…and that someone was really a bird?“ Nick winded. “No..it was…a man.“ “Hmm…“ Virgil squinted his eyes. “And what was he doing that night?“ Nick almost chuckled despite the situation. “Trust me, you don’t want to hear any details.“ Virgil turned away. “Really, Nick, when will you ever grow up? You could’ve learned so much from Morrie! I’m sure he was worried about you, that’s why he went out! He wouldn’t break the curfew without a good reason! He died while you had fun! Perhaps you’ll learn from that!“ Virgil left the bed while Nick helplessly watched him. With one hand at the handle, Virgil stopped to say: “Your friends are still here, by the way. They don’t believe you’re a killer. Somehow, you won them over. You should treat them better than you treated Morrie.“ With that, he closed the door.

#we happy few #Wehappyfew #nick lightbearer #nicklightbearer #nickxarthur #whfarthurhastings #whf arthur #whfarthur #nick x arthur #morrie memento #nickxmorrie #morriememento

3 notes · View notes

azumastan · 4 years

Text

can I live happily ever after?

characters: muku sakisaka, kazunari miyoshi - DO NOT tag as ship

genre: fluff/light angst? idk bro. there’s a little crying.

word count: 1356

ok so it is nearly 3am and i just finished this. it has minimal proofreading because i’m just proud to be done and it’s my baby boy’s birthday.

also, it’s the first fic i’ve posted on here!! wow!! how does it feel to be so special, muku?! so, comments and constructive criticism are welcome. i know some folks get picky about how their best boys are written, so i hope i do them justice and tell me how i can do better!

here we go~

Muku loves fairy tales and stories of romance. His dream is to be a prince like in the tales he loves so much. If he could be the kind of gentleman that comes to the rescue of a beautiful girl and they dance through the night, he would be as happy as can be.

But every time he loses himself in that fantasy, there’s no girl. Not really. Sometimes there’s a figure in a dress, but not anyone really specific.

It’s not a big deal. He’s not even in high school; he doesn’t HAVE to fall in love. It sounds so nice, though. Love has to be wonderful if he was able to fill a whole bookshelf with manga about it. The pounding heart, sweaty hands.....well, maybe not that part. Muku knows what anxiety feels like all too well. But to feel that way around someone special, and have them feel the same about him, that’s a dream that could come true.

What if there’s no princess for him?

The problem isn’t that he’s worried no one will fall for him, though that’s certainly crossed his mind.

No, that’s not it. The problem is that Muku likes boys.

Probably. It’s all really confusing and he’s only ever been sure about like, four things in his life, but he has a hard time picturing himself taking a girl out on a date despite reading hundreds of scenarios, and there’s this guy in his class who has some really interesting things to say about the book they’re reading. And maybe Muku laughed a little too hard at some joke he had made during algebra and maybe he turned redder than a tomato when he bumped into the other boy playing basketball in gym class.

So, he’s realized he might be gay, and he can’t stop thinking about how he’s supposed to have his happy ending now. There’s no fairy tales where the prince rides off with a kind kitchen boy on the back of his horse. No shoujo manga where the strong, silent guy offers to share his umbrella with the shy, pretty boy from class.

What kind of fantasy lies in Muku’s future then?

He laid there in his dorm bed, tears pricking his eyes. Ugh. He sniffled. How pathetic am I, crying over my non-existent love life because now I don’t know if I’ll ever get the happily ever after that I’ve read about? Muku wiped his watering eyes with his pajama sleeve and sniffled again.

“Mukkun?” Kazunari sat up in his bed, trying to see the boy with pink hair across the dark room. “Are you okay, Mukkun?”

“Oh! Kazunari! I’m okay, I swear! I’m sorry to bother you. Go back to sleep.”

“Nope.” Kazunari turned on his phone flashlight, climbed out of bed and turned on a floor lamp. “I was just scrolling through Instablam, anyway. You can talk to me,” he said, plodding over to Muku’s bed to look the younger boy in the eyes.

That was what broke the dam, sending tears streaming down Muku’s face. Kazunari hesitated before climbing up next to him and placing his arm around his sobbing roommate.

“Hey, hey. Mukkun, shhhh....... I got you,” he murmured.

In a minute, Muku’s tears stopped flowing so freely. After the whole room was silent for a little while, Kazunari asked “Do you want me to go get Juza?”

Muku shook his head, and, voice quivering, he replied, “I think — I think I just needed to cry, Kazu-kun. Really.” He punctuated this statement with another sniffle, causing Kazunari’s brow to furrow. Still doubtful, the blond boy took his arm back, giving Muku some space if he wanted it. Muku didn’t seem to notice the absence of Kazunari’s arm, but he did turn his head towards him.

“Hey, uh, Kazu-kun? Do you have any gay friends?” Muku’s voice trailed off at the end of his question, a little uncomfortable with what he was saying and afraid Kazunari would know what he was getting at before he said anything explicitly.

Kazunari smiled. “Totes! I’ve got loads of LGBT pals! Wait.” He laughed a little. Muku’s heart sank. Did he know what Muku was thinking? Was he going to laugh at him? Oh no, no, please, not that…..

“Dude, did you think I was straight?! LMAO, it’s not like I try to hide it.”

Muku’s jaw dropped. “You—? But you’re always going on about all the cute girls outside when we do street acts.”

The young man shrugged. “Yeah. I do like girls, but I like boys too. I like a lot of people.”

“Oh.” Muku sighed, feeling weirdly light after what Kazunari admitted. “Sorry I assumed anything, I just thought, hey, Kazunari has a lot of friends, maybe he knows some people who fell in love like in a shoujo manga and it didn’t matter that they didn’t like girls—“

“Hey.” Kazunari ruffled the middle school boy’s pink mop of hair. “Would that have anything to do with what had you so upset, Mukkun?”

He breathed in, and in what seemed to be one long exhale, Muku managed to speak practically a whole chapter. “UhhhhhhsureIthinkI’mgayandit’snotabigdealIthink. Isitabigdeal? Idon’tknowandIguessItrynottodwellonitbutifIwanttobeaprincehowcanIdothatifIdon’twanttomarryaprincessand-“

“Whoa there! Slow down, bro!” Kazunari took Muku’s hand. “I got most of that, but you need to breathe, Mukkun! Okay, go on.”

Taking a few deep breaths at his roommate’s suggestion, Muku continued. “I think, maybe, I’m gay? Because I can’t really picture my future princess, and you know about my imagination, hahaha. And there’s a boy in my class that makes my heart pound like crazy and it’s just like a shoujo manga says it should be, but that’s about boys and girls and I know it’s not…..wrong, but it doesn’t feel….right, exactly. Princes get the girl, that’s how it always is. And I don’t want to give up on that dream,” he finished as his voice started to break.

Kazunari sucked in his lips, trying to think of a response that would calm him down and cheer him up, but he didn’t want to confuse the young boy any farther. He knew himself what it was like to be in school and fall for other boys, and Muku, notorious for having his head in the clouds, made a lot of very good points. There aren’t any gay fairy tales or gay princes. And while Muku didn’t need any help getting lost in a fantasy, it can’t be easy when every romance he sees is showing him that straight is the default.

Well, he could do something about that.

Kazunari put his hand on Muku’s head again, and said, “I’m really glad you told me about this. I wish I had something more helpful to tell you right now, but I’m beat, and you probably are too. We should try to get some sleep. But you don’t have to forget about your dream, okay? You’re gonna be the best prince there ever was.”

“Okay. Good night, Kazu,” he said with a yawn. Guess Kazunari couldn’t have timed that better.

“Good night, Mukkun,” Kazunari pushed himself off of Muku’s bed, walked over to turn out the light, and then crawled back into his own bed.

------------------

The next afternoon, Muku went to his room to drop off his school bag when he noticed a folded piece of paper on his desk that read “Prince Mukkun.” Dropping his bag and picking up the mystery paper, he opened it to find a gorgeous pencil drawing of himself in a fine military uniform, wearing a crown, and sitting atop a white horse. Even more surprising, there was a black-haired boy with a regal looking tunic and a sword standing next to the horse. There was a caption at the bottom of the page that read “The Prince and the Knight.”

Muku’s face broke out into a smile. He hadn’t signed it, but it was undeniably the work of Kazunari. Grabbing a push pin, he put the picture up on his bulletin board next to the calendar. Then, he left the dorm room to sit in the courtyard and mentally continue the story Kazunari had started for him.

#a3!#a3! actor training game #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3! fic #a3! fanfiction #muku birthday #muku sakisaka #a3! muku #kazunari miyoshi #a3! kazunari #ideally i wanted yuki in this too but. roommates. also i need to get some sleep wow i really had kazu call me out when i wrote this 20 min #ago. oops. also this definitely is not inspired by my real feelings.#I GREW UP ON DISNEY BUT THIS DON'T FEEL LIKE DISNEY #AJR was really onto something there huh

17 notes · View notes