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#fun fact this place is in my city ive been to this spot before with some of my college buddies i kinda feel bad bc those ppl that live there
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Can you write jason todd with ftm reader where he defends him from transphobia in public? I need my big beefy boyfriend to beat up transphobes for me pls. Thanks and happy pride ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜
Jason Todd x FTM reader
Headcanons
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idc what anyone says, gotham knights Jason is beautiful to me
Hallo zusammen. Happy pride. My teacher decided last second to change everything about my next exam, so ive been stressing. So to make myself feel better, here’s some Jason going to pride with his BF.
As much as Gotham is a shithole filled to the gills with crime, its got a large demographic of LGBT. Even the heroes and villains are somewhere on that spectrum, which also means none of them target the local pride parades.
But like any pride parade, there are bigots at the sidelines. Now, Gothamites don’t do stupid well, so most are sent packing before they can even start up with their usual theatrics. Are you gonna yell homophobic slurs at poison ivy? Or when Killer Croc is walking by wearing rainbow streamers?
That doesn’t mean there aren’t stupid that sticks around. They are rarely locals, since even the most hateful locals know not to be dumb enough to cause a ruckus the one place the villains and vigilantes get along and have the same goal.
Not every hero was suited up though, seeing as you and Jason were walking side by side along with everyone else. Jason was wearing a less flashy outfit, mainly because he doesn’t do bright colors too much, but your sexuality and gender were more out in the open.
At least obvious enough for some hateful person to spot that you’re trans. And since you look like an easy target, amongst Gothamites at least, they decide to focus on you with their hateful rhetoric.
Insults weren’t anything new slung around Gotham, a city where you would get called a bad nickname more than your actual name. but it was never focused on something like your gender, your sexuality, or your race. It would be something like the fact that you wore ugly shoes, or that you ate weird.
which was why it catching the attention of more than just your boyfriend when the transphobic slurs get thrown at you. Apparently, you freezing up at the slurs seem like a win to these people, as they start yelling and jeering at you even more.
 Surprisingly it isn’t Jason that throws the first punch. Its some random chick wearing a lesbian flag over her shoulders and purple ladder laced boots. Her punch seems to unleash what everyone had been holding in, not wanting to give these bigots any attention.
Jason gets his own punches in of course, specifically targeting the people that had been yelling slurs at you. And as much as you hate this city sometimes, seeing people from all across the board come together to beat up bigots seems like its as unified as Gotham is ever gonna get.
Some other people wearing pride flags or colors come to check up on you, but you are honestly too busy watching Jason throw a guy with an offensive sign across the pavement.
The other people nod approvingly at your boyfriend. Fun to think Jason, the most Gotham guy you know, gets the approval from the Gotham gays.
When Jason comes back, he’s still jittery, his blood clearly rushing from the confrontation, but a couple of kisses and thank you gets him to settle down for the most part. He ends up more colorful than he would like, being given flower crowns and different lanyards and sashes. But hearing you laugh is enough to make him put up with it.
And if you’re wondering where the heroes were? Well, they just happen to have been busy with something else, even if Red Robin had been sitting on the ledge of a building, wearing his own pride flag the entire time.
You and Jason can both tell he won’t hear the end of this when you guys get home later. At the end of the day, the hateful speech doesn’t weigh too much on you, knowing that not just Jason, but Gotham as a whole, would chew up and spit anyone out who tried it.
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maydaybytheway · 2 months
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something that has been going on my mind for a while is: where was aang running away to during the storm? well ladies and gentlemen and non binary folk, i think ive found an answer
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the two places i could track down him going to are either the fire nation, or omashu in the earth kingdom, i pinned the relevant places here, and also the water tribe for later usage now, ill just state that he has no reason to head directly to the southern water tribe even though aang says he has friends all over the world, hes lying! there isnt a single mention of any friends from either water tribes, so.. yeah, hes either going to fire nation because of his boyfriend (kuzon) or to omashu (bumi)
you could make an argument hes going to either of the other air temples for some reason, but ill debunk that at the end SO. where would he be going? firstly i would like to track the location of the iceberg aang gets trapped in
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in theory, the iceberg should be found somewhere along here in these trenches, where later, the wolf cove is founded now, we need to track how the heck it got to there, since we know aang wasnt flying near the south pole during the storm, nor that he was going to the water tribe BUT. before that
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i would like to mention the fact that, with pixel measurements, the fire nations nearest city/village (fun fact! thats where yon rha lived, the killer of kataras mom) is closer than the shores that are near omashu objectively speaking, if aang was running away and wanted to get somewhere safe fast, the closest and best course of action would be to go directly to the fire nation anyways, presuming that aang takes the fastest and most direct approach with going to the fire nation, we can presume he could fall off around midway through, maybe a little bit before
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these are the ways i see that this could somehow go, anyplace between those spots could eventually leave to the iceberg's location in the southern tribe keep in mind, this was 100 years of travelling with the oceans current, this didnt take like a day or something honestly, those trenches might look tricky, but they probably are all in a current that leads towards the ocean near the south pole, aka, the iceberg location now, for omashu:
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this is what they COULD look like, but...
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this is what they PROBABLY look like
there are just too many rocks and open spaces in the way, making it so that the iceberg would probably end up either in another place in the south pole, or stop near the air temples, or heck, maybe even the earth kingdoms shores "b-but. what if he was headed to the air temples!" well its your lucky day random anonymous guy i just made up, because i thought of that too
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even without taking into account the distance and the fact that it would be pretty much impossible for aang to float to the iceberg location, aang would have no reason to go to the other air temples, especially the eastern one, since the whole point was to escape from the air nomads but anyways, now that weve got it all figured out, that aang, was indeed, going to the fire nation, you might be wondering, what was the point of this? why would you waste so much time on something that doesnt matter only to reach an irrelevant conclusion? well, dear hypothetical person the real reason is that KUZAANG IS CANON!! AANG WAS GOIGN TO RUN AWAY WITH HIS BOYFRIEND IN THE FIRE NATION AND THEN AND THEN THEY WERE GONNA KISS AND THEYD LIVE TOGETHER AND AND AND ALSO THE WAR WOULDNT HAPPEN. BECAUSE SOZIN WOULD SEE THEM AND WOULD THINK "damn... maybe air nomads arent so bad" AND AND AND THEN HAPPY ENDING.
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kinglazrus · 4 years
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Smells Like Team Spirit
Phic phight 2020
Submitted by @phantomphangphucker: Danny Fenton seeming creepy, unnatural, predatory, etcetera to the general population of Amity Park. Or only seeming creepy, unnatural, predatory, etcetera to tourists, while Amity Park locals are confused by anyone finding Fenton ‘creepy/intimidating’.
Summary: Some mascots are great at pumping up a crowd. As Casper High's mascot, Danny has only one job: strike fear into the hearts of their opponents. This is the story of how Danny becomes the famed Mascot of Fear.
Word count: 9268
Tucker witnesses it first. His cousin from another state is visiting for the weekend and Danny comes over to hang out. Ozzy has met Danny before, a few times, so Tucker thinks they won't mind if Danny joins them for a little while. He arrives while Ozzy is in the bathroom, and Tucker gets a three-player game of the new Doomed: IV console game set up.
Danny lounges on a beanbag chair, leaving the couch to the Foley cousins. Clutching his controller, he plays with the controls, watching his character jump, roll, punch, and shoot, trying to get a feel for the different set up.
"I think they took out the high jump," Danny says. He spams the jump button while tapping various others across the controller, testing different combos.
"What?" Tucker lunges for the game case, taking out the pamphlet tucked inside the cover. He flips through, looking for the controls.
"Yeah, it doesn't seem to­—oh damn that's fun."
"What? What?" Tucker scrambles up, throwing the pamphlet aside, and watches Danny's avatar leap into the air, then sprint forward.
"Air-dashing," Danny says with a grin.
"Sweet." The boys bump fists.
Danny, kneeling on his beanbag, keeps air-dashing across the screen, whipping the controller back and forth emphatically. The action does nothing to improve the gameplay, but at the same time, it just wouldn't be as enjoyable without it. Tucker lays upside down on the couch, hands braced on the floor, cheering Danny on. "Go, go, go!"
It's stupid and fun. They haven't even started playing the game yet, but this is the most they'll enjoy themselves all afternoon. And that's the scene Ozzy walks in on.
They remember Tucker's best friend, although they hadn't seen him since coming out. Ozzy's not sure what to expect from him, but it certainly isn't this. And by this they don't mean the raw enthusiasm for a simple game mechanic. They mean the shiver that crawls up their spine the second they lay eyes on Danny. They feel cold, like they've stepped in a bath of ice-water rather than their cousin's living room.
Danny turns his head toward Tucker and sees Ozzy standing in the doorway. Both of them freeze. Ozzy's heart beats fast and heavy in their chest. Their pupils dilate, stretching wide, and sweat beads on their forehead. They can't look away. If they do, then they're dead. If they let Danny out of their sight, they're dead.
Danny gaze slides away, back to the TV, and Ozzy can breathe again.
"Ozzy's here," Danny says.
"Oh!" Tucker's head swivels toward them. He hadn't noticed Ozzy and Danny's little staring contest. It had only lasted a second, but to Ozzy, it felt like an hour.
"Check it out!" Tucker says. He kicks off the back of the couch, flipping forward. His knees hit the carpet hard, making a loud thud, which earns him a shout from the dining room.
"Don't bother the neighbours!" Tucker's mom, Angela, says.
"Okay, Mom!" Tucker calls back, without much conviction in his voice. He beckons Ozzy forward and points to the TV. "They replaced the double jump with air-dashing! Which seems stupid at first, 'cause jumping forward isn't the same as jumping higher. But it looks like if you air-dash into something, you can climb up it!"
Tucker talks fast, making lots of vague gestures with his hands, not really looking at Ozzy. He grabs his own controller off the couch and swivels toward his cousin. "Here's how you do it."
Tucker looks up at Ozzy and pauses. "Hey," he says, tilting his head. "You okay?"
Ozzy is not okay, but they can't really explain it. Danny glances there way again, just for a second, and a shudder passes through them. Something about Danny is off, but Ozzy can't really explain it. He looks the exact same as he did the last time Ozzy saw him, even wearing the same damn t-shirt. But when Ozzy looks at him, and Danny looks back, their brain starts screaming not right, not right, NOT RIGHT!
"I'm, uh, I'm good, yeah," Ozzy says. They shuffle into the room, casting nervous glances Danny's way, and sit down on the couch, taking the farthest spot from Danny. Ozzy leans up against the armrest, taking the controller Tucker passes them, and looks forward. They think that, maybe, if they look ahead instead, if they just don't look at Danny, they won't feel so weird, and whatever this is will pass.
But oh, god, this is so much worse, because now they can't see Danny, and that makes their heart pound. An image of Danny suddenly lunging from his seat bursts into their mind and Ozzy stiffens. Hands tightening around the controller, they glance out of the corner of their eye.
Danny hasn't moved. Danny isn't even looking at them. It doesn't make them feel better.
"Seriously, are you good?" Tucker asks. He sits down to Ozzy's left, blocking their view of Danny.
"Let's just play," Ozzy says.
Tucker shrugs and starts the game. As they play, he keeps looking over at Ozzy, wondering why they're acting so strange. They were just fine half an hour ago, but now they're stiff, and kind of pale, and they keep looking away from the screen, even when they're in the middle of a fight. Ozzy's always been better than Tucker at Doomed, but today they're at the bottom of the scoreboard.
Tucker racks his brain, trying to come up with a reason for the strange behaviour. A bad phone call, maybe? Ozzy's mom has been in and out of the hospital for a while. He hopes it's not that. He wants to ask them what's wrong, but he doesn't want to push it. And they might not be comfortable talking about it with Danny there, either. So, Tucker decides to wait until they're alone.
His chance comes sooner than expected, when Danny says he has to go.
"Aw, really?" Tucker asks. He droops, shoulders slumping. "You've only been here an hour."
"Yeah." Danny nods. "I just remembered that physics assignment. I haven't finished yet."
"I thought you finished that?"
"Uh, so did I. But Jazz just texted me. She found the sheet and apparently, I left a few questions blank. I should go home and finish before she really gets on my case." Danny stands up and stretches his arms above his head. "Sorry. We can make up for it next time."
Before Tucker can protest further, Danny leaves, casting one last furtive glance in Ozzy's direction. Ozzy doesn't relax until they hear the front door close.
"What did he even check his phone?" Tucker mutters. Thinking back, he can't even remember Danny looking down at his pocket. It bothers him, but he knows Danny wouldn't lie without a good reason, so he'll leave it for now.
He pounces on Ozzy instead
"What's wrong?" Tucker asks.
"Nothing's wrong."
"You're a worse liar than Danny. Is it... is it your mom?"
"What? No." Ozzy shakes their head. "Mom's fine. She's doing really good, actually."
"But there is something wrong," Tucker presses.
Ozzy groans. They reach up to run their fingers through their hair, faltering when they touch their shoulder instead. Moving their hand up, they touched their buzzed head. "I don't know. Danny, he–" Ozzy cuts themself off.
"Danny? What'd he do? Did he say something while I wasn't looking? I'll kick his ass," Tucker says, leaping to his feet.
"No, don't!" Ozzy grabs Tucker's belt and yanks him back down. "It's nothing, okay? He didn’t do anything. It's stupid."
Tucker stares intently at them, then sighs and backs off. "Okay. It's okay if you don't want to tell me, you don't have to. But if you do want to talk about whatever it is, I'm right here."
"Yeah, okay," Ozzy says.
Valerie sees it next. She invites Danny over for a study session at her new place in Elmerton. People say Elmerton is a neighbourhood at the edge of Amity Park, but as someone who now lives there, Valerie knows it's its own town. The people in Elmerton aren't like the people Amity. They don't have the same mannerisms. They don't have the same slang. They don't even have the same ghosts.
In fact, Elmerton has no ghosts. Which makes it a pretty poor place for a ghost hunter to live, but the apartments are cheap, and it's all her dad can afford right now.
They take the bus after school. It's an inter-city bus, because none of the school buses go out that far. The ride is more than hour. Plenty of people get on and off the bus in that time. Valerie likes to watch them. She can tell exactly when the last person from Amity Park steps off.
Valerie doesn't know how she could explain it to an outsider, but people from Amity can recognize each other at a moment's glance. It's something about the way they hold themselves, how they react to things. When your life gets threatened every day by ghosts from another realm, you look at things a little differently. It's like one day everyone from Amity Park collectively decided to stop giving a damn about anything that didn't immediately threaten to kill them.
"Huh," Valerie says as she looks over the bus. She and Danny sit at the very back, in Valerie's usual seat. After her first few times taking the bus, she learned it was just polite to sit further back when you had a longer ride. It also gives her a good view of the whole bus.
"What is it?" Danny asks, looking away from the window. So far, he has been spending most of the ride staring out at the passing scenery, watching as things got dirtier and poor run down the closer they got to Elmerton.
Instead of answering, Valerie leans over Danny.
"Hey!" He presses himself back against his seat, raising his arms, a scarlet blush creeping across his cheeks.
Valerie ignores him in favour of scanning the skies. "You don't see any ghosts or anything, do you?"
"What? No. Why? Why would there be a ghost here? I mean, it's Elmerton, right?" Danny says. He laughs and looks away, tugging the collar of his shirt. Is it just him or is it a little hot in here all of a sudden?
"Yeah, I guess so," Valerie says, pulling back. Her frown stays settled on her face.
There are only a few people on the bus with them, besides the driver. At the very front, a woman with weathered skin and greying hair, who got on at the last stop. Even though the bus is already moving again, she still hasn't taken her seat. Instead, she stands straight, facing the back of the bus.
By the middle doors is a young woman and teenage girl, their backs to Valerie and Danny. The woman has her arm around the girl's shoulder. Every once in a while, she cranes her neck and looks in their direction.
A man in a rumpled suit sits closest to them. Valerie sees him on the bus every day. They've chatted a few times, and he's nice enough. They usually say hi to each other. Today, he had started down the aisle toward them, giving a cheery wave. But the moment his gaze slipped from Valerie to Danny, he paled, dropping into the nearest seat. He clutches his briefcase tightly, holding it like a shield.
Valerie knows instantly that none of these people are from Amity Park because they all look afraid and she has no idea why. She stares at them a moment longer, glaring at the young woman when she peeks over her shoulder again.
It takes Valerie a minute to realize it, but she finally notices the one thing all of them are doing.
"Are they... staring at you?" Valerie whispers to Danny.
He shifts uncomfortably, tucking his hands under his arms, and leans his head against hers to whisper back. "Yeah."
"Why?"
Danny shrugs. "It's just a thing people do sometimes."
"People sometimes stare at you like you're about to, I don't know, pounce on them?"
Danny shrugs again.
"That's... really weird."
"Maybe they've heard of my parents," he says, grinning sardonically.
Valerie rolls her eyes and pushes his shoulder. He laughs, and Valerie does her best to ignore the tense atmosphere for the rest of the ride. She ignores it, but she doesn't forget it.
Valerie finds Tucker in the gym sound booth after school one day and corners him there. She locks the door behind her and pins him against the sound board. "What's up with Danny?" she asks accusingly.
Both Tucker and Sam have the annoying habit of dancing around Valerie's words whenever she tries to approach them cautiously. She's learned, from experience, that being direct and forceful is the only way to get information out of them. Getting Tucker alone with no back up also helps.
"I don't know! He's not a ghost!" Tucker blurts out, raising his arms defensively.
"What?"
"I mean, nothing. Nothing's up with Danny. He's so great. You know how great he is. You dated him for a little bit, luck you."
Valerie stares at him, wondering for a moment if this is Tucker's way of confessing that he has a crush on his best friend. She shakes her head, casting that thought aside for now. Grabbing Tucker's collar, she pulls him forward until they're nose to nose.
"You mean you've never seen how odd people get around him?"
"What, no?" Tucker's genuinely confused by the question. His face screws up as he thinks, trying to figure out what the hell Valerie is talking about. He needs to tread lightly, so he doesn't accidentally spill Danny's secret. He doesn't think she knows, despite how weird her question is.
"Just think about it for a minute, okay?" Valerie says. She releases Tucker and steps back, crossing her arms.
Tucker composes himself, smoothing out his shirt, and gives her a dirty look. He decides to indulge her anyway. With a great, dramatic sigh, Tucker taps his chin, looking up at the ceiling, then down at the floor. He hums and haws, making a great show of how terrible and strenuous thinking about this is, and then he shrugs.
"Nope, can't say I know what you mean." Brushing past Valerie, he heads for the door.
She reaches out and grabs his collar again, yanking him back.
"Come on, you're gonna stretch it!" Tucker whines, batting Valerie's hand off.
"I'm being serious here, Tucker. You've never seen anyone looking, I don't know, afraid of Danny? Kind of wary?"
"Afraid? Of Danny? You can't be serious, he's not–" Tucker freezes.
"What is it?" Valerie reaches out for him again.
Tucker smacks her hands away and skips out of her reach. "A couple months ago. I had my cousin over, and Danny hung out with us for a bit. They were acting really weird. I thought it was about their mom. And then I thought it was because they weren't out the last time they saw Danny, but they said it wasn't either of those and told me to drop it."
"Danny came over to my place to work on our history project last week. On the bus, people wouldn't stop looking at him. He brushed it off, but that's weird, right?" Valerie asks. "They looked like... like they were afraid."
Tucker laughs. "So weird. Can you imagine people being scared of Danny?"
It's the most ridiculous thing either of them has heard all year. They break down into a fit of laughter, falling against each other. It's so outlandish and absurd that you couldn't make it up if you tried.
Which is why Star, who has her ear pressed against the sound booth door, grins and takes off the moment the conversation dissolves into laughter. She has only one thought in mind: Paulina has got to hear about this.
"No way."
"Yeah."
"No. Way."
"Yeah!" Star nods enthusiastically. "I swear that's what they said."
"Afraid of Fenton?" Paulina asks. Star's already said it three times, but it's so unbelievable she has to hear it again.
"Afraid of Fenton," Star repeats. "Foley's cousin and some," she waves her had dismissively, "Elmertonites."
"Ugh, Elmerton."
"I know."
"Who's Foley's cousin?" Paulina asks. She can't remember if Foley has any other family in the city, but Star would. Star's the only person who knows this town, and it's people, better than Paulina. They are the gossip queens and they make everybody's business their own. Knowing a little extra something about a certain somebody could always come in handy somewhere down the line.
"An out-of-towner," Star says.
"Interesting." Paulina closes her locker and leans against. She waves at a few boys walking by, giving them a disarming smile. They crane their necks around to keep looking at her for as long as they can. As soon as they're around the corner, Paulina's smile drops and she turns back to Star. "You know, I think now's a great time for my friend from New York to come visit!"
Star grins. "Oh, great idea, Paulie. Amity is so great this time of year."
They walk down the hall, arm in arm, giggling and conspiring.
Everyone knows about Paulina's New York friend. Theirs is a friendship built not out of love but a mutual desire to constantly get one up on each other. Which means they aren't friends at all. But, their dads are business partners, so the two girls often find themselves forced together. These occasions are typically full of sweet smiles and sweeter words. Which everyone knows is a clever rich girls choice weapon in any circumstance.
When Paulina invites Whitney van der Bloom to Amity Park for the weekend, Whitney answers with a cheerful, "Sweetie, do you even need to ask?"
Which really means, "Sweetie, why on Earth would I want to go?" Sweetie, in both cases, is not a complement.
Whitney goes, of course. With a slew of backhanded complements tucked in her pocket. The battle begins the moment her plane touches down and she is determined to come out of this weekend as the undisputed victor. Paulina may have a home advantage, but Whitney was born into this kind of conflict. New money always flounders around a bit before learning how to properly navigate the delicate social rules of high society, and she can tell Paulina is still getting her sea legs.
Whitney finds it adorable, like watching a baby toddle through their first steps.
On her walk through the airport, Whitney touches as little as possible. She left New York in a private plane, from a private airstrip, where every surface was clean and shiny. Amity Park was neither of those things.
By the main entrance, she finds Paulina's driver holding a sign with Whitney's name on it. She passes him her luggage, a single Gucci bag, and follows him outside to the waiting car. She's impressed by Paulina's power play, although she would never say it out loud. Staying in the car while sending her driver out to collect Whitney, like a nanny picking up a child from daycare, is a bold move.
It's fine. Whitney will let her have the lead, for now. She won't have it for long.
The driver opens the back door. Whitney slides inside like she owns the car, tossing her hair over her shoulder, giving the driver a sugary smile. When she turns and gets her first good look at the inside, she freezes.
Rather than sitting on the other side of the car, at a respectful distance, Paulina is right beside her in the middle seat. And there are four other people with her. Paulina's little satellite—Whitney thinks her name is Sun—sits to her left. And across from them are two boys she doesn't know—and doesn't want to, based on how they're dressed—plus a girl she does know.
"Sammy?" Whitney asks, looking across the car at the Sam Manson, heir to the Manson fortune.
"Bloom," Sam greets her coolly. Sam doesn't even twitch at the nickname she loathes. Because that would be a sign of weakness, and she knows that if there's one thing you never want to do, it's look weak in front of Whitney van der Bloom. The girl may only be fifteen but she's a menace.
"Hi." Whitney drags out the "i," her voice rising and falling. "Oh. My. God. I haven't seen you since the Cabo retreat! What are the chances of seeing you here?"
Sam grins wickedly. "Pretty high, actually."
"Oh?" Witney doesn't have a response for that. Sam has always thrown her off, purely because she refuses to play the same games Whitney and Paulina do. It's infuriating.
She turns to the two strangers instead, looking them up and down. The boy on Sam's right makes her cringe. A turtleneck and cargo pants? Whitney would give him points for boldness if the colours weren't so garish. When she meets his eyes, he wiggles his eyebrows at her.
Whitney immediately decides she wants nothing to do with him.
The other boy, sitting right across from her, isn't much better. Worn out jeans that are actually worn out and weren't just made to be like that, and a ratty old t-shirt with a flaming green "F" on it. Gross. Resisting the urge to curl her lip, she lifts her eyes to his face.
He's not looking at her. He's looking down and away, his stare so intense it should be burning a hole in the carpet. Little does she know, it could, with very little effort on his part.
Normally, Whitney takes that kind of gesture as a sign of submission. Instant victory. Right now, something about this boy makes her think she doesn't want his eyes on her.
"Whit! I'm so happy you could come!" Paulina throws her arms around Whitney's shoulders and pulls her in for a hug, kissing Whitney's cheeks twice.
Whitney snaps out of her daze, although not fast enough to return the kisses. Another victory for Paulina.
"Of course, Lina!" Whitney says. She sees the boy in the turtleneck mouth "Lina" at Sam. She wonders what their relationship is. "There's no way I would pass up the chance to visit somewhere as quaint as Amity Park. It's nice to get a break from the lavish lifestyle, you know?"
"Oh, I know. You look like you need a nice rest." Paulina smiles widely.
Whitney's eye twitches. "So, Lina, who are your friends?"
"Well, you already know Sam. I didn't realize you ran in such high circles,"  Paulina said, earning another twitch. Before she can say anything back, Paulina moves on. "And these two are her friends. Tucker." The boy in the turtleneck, "and Danny." The boy that Whitney does not want to look at her.
Paulina leans forward and grabs Danny's arm, pulling him right out of his seat. He yelps and stumbles, bumping his head on the top of the car. Tucker reaches out to stop him, but Sam holds her arm out and keeps him back, wearing that same fiendish smirk. Before Whitney can figure out what's happening, Star's moved to take Danny's place, and Paulina has slid over to the other side of the car. She drags Danny down and sits him right next to Whitney.
"Danny's such a good friend, I can't believe I haven't introduced you to him sooner," Paulina says. She's still hugging his arm, pushing him forward a little more so Whitney has no choice but to squeeze up against the door to avoid touching him.
She doesn't want to touch him. She doesn't want to be next to him. She doesn't even want to be in the same car as him. Whitney unconsciously reaches for the door handle, but the car's already moving. She's trapped.
"Don't be rude, Danny. Say hi to Whitney," Sam says. She looks like the cat that ate the canary. And Whitney feels like the bird.
Danny gives Sam a disgruntled look before turning to Whitney. "Uh, hey, Whitney," he says.
Whitney tenses. The sound of his voice sends shivers down her spine. It washes over her, raising goosebumps along her arms. The cold certainly doesn't help. She thinks it's the AC in the car, until Danny's arm brushes against hers and she flinches away. His skin is icy to the touch.
"Sorry," Danny mutters. He finally looks at her.
Whitney wilts under his stare. Looking into his eyes is like looking into an endless expanse. Her own gaze jumps around, searching, but Danny's holds steady. Not even a twitch. Whitney's not even sure if he's blinked since she got in the car. When he looks away, his eyes slide off her.
"You– you're very," she stammers. For once, her words are lost to her.
Paulina's smile is bright as the sun. She leans back, giving Danny the space to do the same, and Whitney quickly tries to compose herself. She steadies her breathing, checking the other occupants of the car to see how they reacted. Tucker looks curious. Sam looks smug. Star looks delightfully vapid, eyes wide and smile wider.
"They're going to be with us all day, I hope you don't mine," Paulina says. "Danny knows the city really well, and Sam. Well, like I said. She's a Manson."
Whitney, still at a loss for words, nods numbly.
"This will be so much fun!" Star says, clapping her hands together.
Whitney doesn't think so.
Whitney lasts for four hours, which is far longer than anyone expected.
"I'm almost impressed," Star says, waving at Whitney's private jet as it takes off. "She's very good at faking important phone calls."
"Just never tell her that to her face," Paulina says. Hand on her hip, she eyes Sam, Tucker, and Danny. "I guess we can give you all rides home. But I hope you know this was a one-time thing. Mostly because Whitney probably won't come back after that."
"Uh." Danny raises his hand. "How do you know the phone call wasn't important? Why won't she be back? She's your friend, isn't she?"
"Oh, Danny. You're so sweet, you know that?" Paulina pats his cheek and pivots. Swaying her hips, she starts walking back toward the car. It's not even an insult this time.
"Thank you? I guess?" Danny says.
"Come on, Fenton. I might even help you with your math for what you did today." Star grabs his wrist and drags him after Paulina.
"I didn't do anything!"
Sam and Tucker linger a moment longer, watching Whitney's plane disappear into the sky. Tucker turns to Sam and says, "I'm so confused. Why did you even agree to this?"
Sam shrugs. "Whitney van der Bloom sucks."
"Yeah. Yeah, she does."
Paulina and Star eagerly spread the word: Danny Fenton scares outsiders. The rumour spreads quickly throughout Casper High, although everyone is careful never to mention it while Danny himself is around. Not even Sam and Tucker tell him. It's one of those rumours you don't want getting back to the person it's about. Not because it's bad, but because it's a hell of a lot more fun when they don’t know.
Nobody really gets the "why," except those who know Danny best. To everyone else, he's a scrawny kid with eccentric parents, and he wouldn't hurt a fly. Most of them decide outsiders are just weird like that and put it out of mind. But Mikey, clever kid that he is, decides to put Danny's mysterious ability to work.
"I'll help you with your physics homework if you cheer us on at the decathlon," Mikey says. He leans across the aisle between their desk, whispering low enough that the teacher won't hear them.
"You do sports?" Danny asks, raising on eyebrow.
"No, it's academic. Don't be ridiculous."
On the edge of his seat, Mikey waits for Danny's reply. The decathlon is tomorrow, which may have been short notice, but Mikey isn't a fool. He knows academics bore the hell out of Danny and the only way he will go is with incentive. Mikey waited until they got their most recent test back. Peeking at Danny's paper, he can see his classmate failed, which is good news for him.
One decathlon is a small price to pay for a passing grade.
Danny looks down at the big red F on his test. He whispers back, "Sure. When is it? Do people have to dress nice for these things?"
"Tomorrow. And," Mikey pauses a moment to consider, "yes. I mean, no. Not nice, but there's this thing we do. It's okay, I'll have you covered. Just wear what you usually do."
Danny looks uncertain, but Mikey knows he'll accept. He gave Danny no other choice.
Mikey tries to gauge Danny's reaction when he passes over the hoodie. It's ten minutes to the start of the competition. They're backstage getting ready for the judge to call them out. At the moment, they're separated from the other team, but there's no rule against some friendly banter before things get going, so Mikey has a plan. A plan that needs Danny to wear this hoodie.
Danny holds it up, frowning at the design on the front. A fierce raven with bright green eyes carrying a bloodied snake in its beak; they're competing with Silver Valley today whose mascot is a snake. He picks up the hood, inspecting the mask sewn into it. It's a simple black masquerade mask with a long, beak-like nose.
"And this is... standard?" Danny asks, lowering the hoodie so he can look Mikey in the eyes.
Mikey nods emphatically. "Yeah. I know decathlons don't seem exciting, but we get really into it. Lots of people do this."
"And you just had a hoodie with this exact picture lying around?" Danny turns the hoodie around, displaying the graphic image on the front.
"Yeah. Lester wore it last time. He's let me borrow it for you today," Mikey lies. It actually cost him thirty bucks to get custom made, but the mask was cheap. Besides, the competition today has a cash prize, which will more than make up for it when his team wins.
"If you say so," Danny says. He shucks off his button up and pulls the hoodie on instead, pushing the hood down to rest at the back of his neck.
Mikey immediately pulls it back up and lowers the mask over Danny's eyes. "It's part of the school spirit," Mikey says.
"Riiight." Danny adjusts the mask, but he doesn't take it down. "Shouldn't I be sitting in the audience?"
"You will. But I wanted to introduce you to the other team first. It's a sportsmanship thing," Mikey explains. He beckons Danny forward, leading him down a long hall behind the stage. As the hall opens up into the wings of the stage, the other team comes into view.
Like Mikey and the other decathlon members, they wear matching jackets. Although where Casper's jackets are red, Silver Valley wears grey.
Danny stops just before stepping into their line of sight. "Mikey," he hisses. "I don't see anyone dressed like a snake over here."
"Just trust me. You want that physics help, right?" Mikey only feels a little guilty about tricking Danny like this. Mikey's not actually hurting him, and they aren't breaking any competition rules, so it's fine.
Danny shuffles his feet, giving the other team a solid once through, and nods.
"Hi, everyone!" Mikey says, drawing the team's attention. "We just wanted to come over and wish you good luck! Friendly competition and all that."
Watching them closely, Mikey catches the exact moment they lay eyes on Danny, and it is so much better than he could have hoped. The whole team freezes. Mikey can see their eyes dilating, like they've been shot with a burst of adrenaline, a little kick-starter in their fight-or-flight response. Judging by the way a few of them shuffle back, they're leaning toward flight.
Mikey revels in the fear in their eyes. "Good luck!" he says.
"Yeah." Mikey turns at Danny's voice. For a second, he thinks he sees something in Danny's eyes, something swirling and green. But in a blink, it's gone. Danny smiles brightly, but with the mask it looks downright villainous. "Good luck. I think you'll need it."
The Silver Valley team pales. Casper High wins by a landslide that day.
The story of Casper High's raven boy spreads from Silver Valley out to other schools. Most of them think it's just a rumour, but enough people pass it along that it eventually works its way back to Casper and into the ears of one Dash Baxter. Dash, being the proud jock he is, can't let himself be one-upped by a nerd.
"Hey, Fenton!" he calls out to Danny at lunch hour. Shoving his way between Sam and Tucker, Dash slams his hands down on the table. Danny flinches. "Relax, I'm not here to wail on you. For once."
Sam shoves Dash's hand off the table. "Great, then get the hell out of here," she says.
"Shut up, Manson. I ain't talking to you." Dash sneers. He turns his focus back to Danny. "I got a proposition for you."
"I can't believe he knows the word proposition," Tucker whispers.
"I said shut it!" Dash raises his hand to smack Foley upside the head. Halfway through the swing, Danny lurches forward and snatches Dash's wrist.
"Dash, if you want to make a deal or something, I don't think hitting my best friend is the right way to start," Danny says.
Dash scowls at him. He jerks his hand out of Danny's grip and steps back, rubbing his wrist. He won't say it out loud, but Danny's got a pretty good grip. "Yeah, whatever. He's not worth it anyway."
"Dash."
People are staring at them now. Most of them looking for a show Dash isn't going to give, at least not today. Eager to get this over with fast, Dash leans over until he's so close there's no way anyone could overhear them.
"Listen. You do one thing for me, and maybe I won't wail on you for a week," he says.
Danny shoots him a deadpan stare. "Maybe?"
"Fine," Dash relents. "I definitely won't."
"What do I have to do?"
"Come to our next football game."
"I'm sorry?"
"Are you deaf, Fenton? Come. To. The. Game." Dash enunciates carefully, slapping his palms down with each word, leaning closer in. Danny reels back so far that he has to grab the table to keep from slipping off the bench. "And wear the sweater."
Dash saunters away before Danny has a chance to respond. The prying eyes turn away then, more than a few disappointed by the turn of events. Danny ignores them in favour of turning to his friends.
"Do you guys know what sweater he's talking about?" he asks.
"Probably the one Mikey had you wear," Tucker says. "Because it's so s–" Sam kicks him under the table. "–exy! It's uh... it's a sexy sweater."
"Oh, my god." Sam drops her face into her hands.
Danny doesn't know it's not standard practice to shake hands with the opposing team's quarterback, and their backup quarterback, and their backup backup quarter back before a football game. But he is pretty sure it's weird for him, a random student, to be doing it instead of someone from the actual team.
"Just stand in front of 'em until they shake your hand, that's it," Dash says, shoving Danny toward the Waterford Heights Weasels. He waves impatiently, motioning Danny forward. Dash personally doesn't see what's so scary about the getup. A sweat with a bird and a mask, big whoop. But he's willing to try it, anyway.
"Think it'll work?" Kwan asks. They stand side-by-side, arms crossed, elbows brushing. The rest of the team mills about behind them, some of them spying on Fenton, others getting in the right headspace for the game. It's only a couple minutes to kickoff.
Dash shrugs. "Worth a shot."
It's a great night for a game. The sky is clear. It's not too chilly. There's still an hour before the sun will set. It means they'll have the light in their eyes for half the game, but if this works, that won't even matter.
Dash and Kwan watch Danny approach the first player. They made sure to give him the jersey numbers beforehand. Kwan, who has neater penmanship, wrote them down on Danny's palm. Their original idea was to have him greet the whole team but that would take too long. They settled for the key players instead.
Danny plants himself in front of the star quarterback and sticks his hand out. Dash snickers when the guy tries to step around Danny, and Danny sidesteps right back into his path. He says something and shoves his hand in the quarterback's direction again.
"You think Fenton's playing along?" Kwan asks.
"Nah. As if he even knows what's up. Did you see the blank look he gave me in the cafeteria? Besides, I upped the 'no-beating' time to two weeks if he did the handshakes."
Kwan touches his fingers as he silently counts the dates in his head. "That's the next home game."
"Yep. If this works tonight, I might just give him the offer again then."
The Waterford's quarterback eventually shakes Danny's hand, scurrying away as soon as he's released. Danny moves on to the next one.
That night, the Waterford Weasels don't get a single touchdown.
Danny is suddenly the most popular kid at school, at least amongst the jocks. Considering how much weight Casper High puts behind their athletic programs, that makes him pretty damn high on the food chain. Not that he seems to realize.
The basketball team, the volleyball team, even the cheerleaders. They drag a confused Danny along whenever they can and set him lose on the opposing team. There's always a bribe, of course. Everybody knows Danny isn't big into school spirit. He'd never gone to a single game before all this, after all.
At first, they're just using him. He freaks out the competition so much it throws them off their game, which means a lot more trophies to fill up Casper High's dusty case in the near future. Eventually, though, it becomes something else. There's still the raw, primal joy of seeing Danny scare the hell out of some outsiders, but they start inviting him to the after parties, too. They let Danny's friends tag along. Dash even gives him a friendly slap on the back one day when they're passing in the hall.
Three months ago, nothing like that would have happened. Three months ago, Dash would have stuffed you in a locker for even suggesting it.
By some miracle, they manage to keep the teachers out of the loop. If any of them asks, the students either answer with a shrug, or suggest that Fenton's turned a new leaf and he's really into school spirit now. Most of them go for the shrug.
It doesn't last forever, though. The students get bolder, inviting Danny to away games outside the city. He rejects most of them, no matter how sweet the bribe, with a number of excuses.
"I have homework."
"I've got some extracurricular stuff to work on."
"I don't have a car."
"You don't need a car, we've got a bus!" Dash says.
Danny, already turning to walk away, stops. "What?"
"You can ride on the team bus with us," Dash says. It's not exactly conventional, but they've got the room for it. All they have to do is sneak Danny past Tetslaff and keep him out of sight until they're on the road. There's not much she can do about it once they've already set out.
"Are you serious?" Danny asks.
Dash rolls his eyes, not even deigning Danny with a proper response. Fishing his notebook out his backpack, Dash quickly scribbles out the time and date of the away game, plus when the team bus is going to leave.
Danny eyes the piece of paper, frowning as he tries to decipher Dash's cramped handwriting.. "You don't even know if I'll show up."
"You'll show up."
"I doubt it."
Danny shows up. He meets Dash by the back door, already donning the sweater he's now permanently borrowed from Mikey. He asked Mikey if Lester would ever want it back, but Mikey assured him his debt is settled. Whatever that means.
"Tetslaff usually waits until all the equipment is loaded up before getting on. We just have to sneak you by her, which won't be too hard," Dash says.
"You realize I'm not shorter than you anymore, right?" Danny asks.
Dash squints. No, he hadn't, actually. Even though they see each other every day, Dash still pictures Danny as the same wimpy kid from freshman year. But Danny's right. He has a few inches on Dash, now that they're a couple years older, although he's still got nothing in terms of muscle mass. Just looking at him, Dash is pretty sure Mikey has more muscle than Danny does.
"Whatever, let's just go." Dash leads Danny over to the bus.
Tetself stands with her back to them. She oversees the rest of the team as they throw their equipment bags into the storage compartment at the bottom of the bus. She's completely oblivious to the two rule breakers heading her way.
But Kwan and Dale see coming from afar and jog over to join them. They fall into step on Dash's left, making a little wall between Danny and Tetslaff. If Danny ducks his head, he's completely out of view. They're almost home free, a few feet from the bus, when Danny's foot slips into a rut in the grass he careens forward.
He cries out in shock, throwing his arms out to catch himself. Dash manages to snag his arm before he hits the ground, jerking Danny to a stop. He hangs there a moment, body limp, blinking at the grass and wondering if that really just happened.
"Daniel Fenton, what are you doing?" Tetslaff asks.
Dash jostles Danny out of his daze. He scrambles upright, brushing himself off as Tetslaff approaches. She stops right in front of him, fists on her hip, her glare stern.
"Getting on the bus?" Danny says.
Behind Tetslaff, Dash slaps a hand against his face.
"Only team members are allowed on the team bus. Those are the rules."
"But coach, he's out lucky charm!" Dash protests.
Tetslaff turns, squinting at Dash. Crossing her arms, she leans toward him. "Oh, yeah? How so?"
Dash, Kwan, and Dale share a long, considering look. Kwan shrugs. Dale tilts his head back. Shooting Danny a wary glance, Dash beckons Tetslaff over, out of earshot. She stays rooted to the spot.
"Please, Coach?"
Normally, a little something like saying please wouldn't do a lick of help in swaying Tetslaff. She's as stubborn as her arms are thick. But today, she feels a little indulgent. The team's being doing great, both in practice and on field. She's willing to give a little, if only for all the effort they're giving her back.
With a sigh, Tetslaff follows Dash.
"He scares the hell out of the other players so that they mess up and we win," Dash confesses once they're out of earshot.
Tetslaff's eyebrows shoot up her forehead. "Fear tactics, huh? Didn't want to rely on you own skill?"
"That's not it! I know we're a great team. We don't need Fenton. But he makes us work harder for it. He's kind of motivating, you know?"
Tetslaff looks at Dash and says nothing. With a shake of her head, she marches back to Danny. "Mr. Fenton, you're coming with me."
Danny gives the team a helpless look, a weak shrug, and follows their coach back into the school.
"Damn," Kwan says. "Almost had it."
"Did you mean what you said about Fenton, Dash?" Dale asks.
"I think I did?" Dash watches Danny and Tetslaff until they disappear through the doors. "I don't know about you guys, but whenever he scares the other team, I kind of want to earn that."
Dale nods. "Man, I wanted to see the fear in their eyes.
"Huh." Kwan taps his chin, deep in thought. "Does anyone else think we should be concerned about the fact that we enjoy that so much?"
All at once, more than half the team drones, "Nah."
"I think you're right, though," Kwan says to Dash. "Having Danny around is kind of fun."
"Today's game is gonna be so boring." Dale moans in disappointed. He boards the bus, quickly followed by his teammates. Soon enough, everyone is on and in their seats. All they need is for Tetslaff to return. She's gone for a solid ten minutes. There are still a few hours before the game starts, but it makes the players antsy. Dash keeps checking out the window for any sign of her.
The school's back door opens. Dash perks up, leaning toward the glass as Tetslaff steps out. She holds the door open. Danny comes out after her. And he's wearing the official Casper High Raven costume.
"Boys!" Tetslaff says when she climbs back on the boss. "Say hello to our new mascot!"
Her declaration is met with a round of cheers.
It's two hours before the game. Danny sits on a bench outside the locker rooms, the raven head resting beside him. When Tetslaff offered to make him the mascot, he admittedly hesitated. In the past, he didn't have time for stuff like this. But things are a little easier now, ghost-wise. His parents are better hunters. Valerie proves time and again how capable she is. The ghosts themselves have even backed off a little since Danny started junior year.
For the first time since starting high school, he actually has the time to do high school things outside of homework. It won't be his first time acting as the official mascot, either. He used to fill in for the mascot in freshman year, before things got too much for Danny to handle and he had to drop it.
He wishes Tetslaff let him keep wearing his hoodie, though. The raven costume isn't that comfortable.
The door to the locker rooms opens. Paulina steps through, already in her cheerleading outfit even though there's still an hour before she needs to be on the field. She takes one look at Danny and says, "Oh, hell no."
Danny recoils, offended. He thought they were on sort of good terms after everything with Whitney, but apparently, he was wrong.
"Tetslaff already made me the mascot, Paulina. I'm here whether you like it or not," he says.
"No, duh. I'm pretty sure you two were the only ones who didn't know you're are mascot." Paulina flicks the shoulder of the raven suit. It makes a dull thunk. The plastic feathers barely twitch. "But you're not scaring anyone in that thing. What are you gonna do, say 'boo?'"
Danny thinks about all the little tricks he has up his sleeve and grins. "I think you'd be surprise."
The costume may be bulky and round, with a wide friendly smile that gives one of those "huggable mascot" looks, but Danny's a ghost. If anybody can do scary, it's him. The past few months have proved that nicely.
"Wait, wait, wait," Paulina says, holding up her hands. She pivots in front of Danny and grabs his shoulders. "You know that you scare people?"
"I mean, yeah? It's kind of hard not to." Danny shakes his head. After the fifth time some stranger flinches away from your touch, you start piecing things together.
"And you never said anything?"
Danny honestly didn't think he had to. Did everyone just expect him not to catch on? Yes. Yes, they did. But that's not the point right now. Danny rubs the back of his neck and chuckles nervously. "I don't really care much about being popular anymore, but it's kind of nice to be invited to stuff, you know?"
Paulina doesn't believe him for a second. She crosses her arms and gives him a critical star. "And?" she asks.
Danny looks at her, looks away. Kicks the grass with his foot. He knows exactly what she wants to hear. He wants to deny it, but he can't. Sheepishly, he admits, "And it's kind of fun."
"Perfect. Then you won't mind what I'm about to do to you."
"Wait, what? Paulina, I– ah!" Paulina grabs his arm and drags him into the girl's locker room.
Danny holds himself perfectly still, arms out from his body. "Paulina, I don't think–"
"Ah, ah, ah! I'm almost done! No moving. And make sure you don't lean back against things too much, or else you'll smudge it." Paulina peers under Danny's arm, holding a paintbrush slathered in blue body paint so dark it's almost black.
"Aren't our team colours red and white?" Danny asks. Turning his arms over, he scans the parts of his skin Paulina has already finished painting. Bold feathers cover most of his upper arm, going up his shoulder and, from what Danny could feel as Paulina worked, down his back. She won't let him see what she's doing, though. He hopes it's cool.
"You mean the most boring colours in team colour history?" Paulina scoffs. She steps back, admiring her work for a moment, and drops her brush in the can of body paint. "I've been trying to get Ishiyama to change the school colours for years. Maybe with this, she will."
"Are you don’t yet?"
"Boy, I worked hard on this, let me breathe it in before you go out there and ruin it."
"Mikey's hoodie was scarier."
"Mikey's hoodie was garish. This is a work of art."
Danny picks at his new pants, heavy things made of a thick material and covered in a generous layer of black feathers. At least his legs will be warm tonight.
"You think I'm scarier without a shirt on? Gee, thanks." Danny rolls his eyes. He's not as offended as he sounds, though. Being a half ghost has led to some physical qualities he would rather do without, but can't do anything to change. Like an incredibly fast metabolism that burns through everything he eats before he even has a chance to taste it. Jazz keeps telling him he has to start making health choices, so he doesn't pass out or keel over from hunger.
He tries, but there's only so much he can do, and his ribs seem to be permanently on display. Danny pokes them now, scowling at how they press against his skin. That is so not healthy. He lets his hand drop back to the feathered pants.
"Where did you even get this on such short notice?" he asks. All Paulina did was make a phone call, then someone came buy and dropped off a paper bag with the pants, body paint, and a smaller plastic bag inside.
"I already had it made, silly. I told you, that sweater was so ugly. I couldn't let you keep repping Casper High in something like that." The noise Paulina makes is nothing short of disgusted. She really hates Mikey's sweater, effective as it was. But this is going to be glorious.
Danny peeks over his shoulder, trying to catch his reflection in the mirror, but he can't get a good view.
"Look straight," Paulina commands, pushing Danny's cheek. She raises his arms. "Hold them out like this, perfectly still. Perfect."
She takes out her phone and snaps a few photos of Danny's back. Flicking through them, she chooses the best one, posting it to the Casper Ravens twitter page with the caption "new mascot unveiling tonight." Once she's done, she passes her phone to Danny to show him her handiwork.
"Whoa." Danny stares down at the delicately painted wings on his back. Paulina made them just right so that when he raises his arms, it looks like the wings are unfurling. "Okay, that's a lot cooler than Mikey's hoodie. A shirt would still be nice, though."
"It'd take away from the look. You're practically a skeleton. What'll freak people out more than that?"
"Really feeling the love, Paulie."
"No using my nickname for her!" Star shouts from behind a row of lockers.
Paulina shooed the other girls to the other side of the room when she brought Danny in to give him his new look. By now, they are all changed into their uniforms and ready to show they're spirit.
"Okay. I'll just call her Lina instead."
"Please, god, no." Paulina groans. "That name is so stupid."
The other cheerleaders giggle as they join Danny and Paulina in the main room. They look nice, wearing their matching pleated skirts and crop tops. With their hands on their hips, the pom-poms give their steps a little extra bounce.
"We know you haven't choreographed anything. Just do your think, and we'll do ours. I know you aren't as clumsy as people think," Star says. She gives Danny an encouraging pat on his cheek. It is not as motivating as she thinks it is.
The girls start lining up by the door, doing a few small jumps to get their blood pumping. Danny does the same, shaking out his arms and hopping from foot to foot. He moves to take his place at the end of the line.
"Hold it!"
"Oh, what now?" Danny groans, slumping over. Paulina's shoes invade his vision. She sticks a plastic bag under his nose, holding it out for him to take. "What's this?"
"The last piece of your costume. It's my favourite."
Danny removes the piece from the bag. He grins wickedly.
Balmoral High, as the home team, runs onto the field first. Having heard of Caspers' unusual intimidation tactics, they came prepared. The players run onto the field amidst a burst of sparklers and strobe lights flashing their team colours. It pumps up the crowd, just as it's meant to, and the team is met with a roar of approval.
They pump their fists, leaping and bounding across the field. Cheerleaders in short skirts and shorter tops wave their pom-poms, do cartwheels and flips, and spur the crowd on. Their mascot runs on last. A guy in a bear costume, his raises his arms and roars, slashing his paws through the air.
It's all very cute.
Casper High comes in with far less fanfare. The cheerleaders are first, swishing their hips and blowing kisses at the crowd. Raising their voices, they cry out to the crowd. "We're the corvid to your carrion! We're here to fight to the break of dawn!" The few people from Amity Park who could make the trek to the neighbouring city cheer back, cranking their noise makers and stomping their feet. The players charge in next, thrusting their helmets in the air. They have feathers paint on their cheeks.
A few Balmoral players snort, bumping elbows and pointing to the face paint. When the last Casper student runs onto the field, all of Balmoral turns to watch for the infamous mascot. No one comes.
"Ha!" Balmoral's linebacker, in the middle of the team huddle, shouts. It would seem that Casper's reputation isn't all it's cracked up to be.
"Excuse me?"
The linebacker freezes, feeling a tap on his shoulder. He turns, slowly, and sees a boy wearing raven skull mask and a devilish grin.
"Boo."
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blingywitch · 3 years
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Good Feelings - Chapter IV
Hi :) sorry it’s been a literal month since the last chapter of this. School has been a mess and I suffered from some really bad writers block for a while. It all good tho cuz chapter IV is here! :))
Full Masterlist & Good Feelings Masterlist
Characters belong to the lovely, @lumosinlove
CW: food and drink
Surprising absolutely no one, Logan and Natalie had become inseparable. You’d think that they’d be a horrible match, seeing as they're two completely different people when it comes to personality but as they had learned, the two had a lot of things in common.
Their friendship had actually become quite personal very fast. It startled Logan at first, how he felt so completely comfortable around this girl who he had known for all of a week, but that’s how Natalie was. She was so open and accepting that Logan felt like he could tell her anything and everything about himself without being thought of differently. She helped keep his mind off things, was someone who he could call anytime of the day or night without any complaints; serious problem or not, Natalie was always down to talk. She had quickly become an escape for Logan; a distraction. Whether it be from the stress of work or from two boys who he hadn’t seen in close to two weeks.
Today’s distraction you may ask? A team dinner. Whatever that was.
“C’mon Logan, Please?!” Natalie drawled while pouring creamer into someone's cappuccino. “It’s just one night and everybody just got back. I wanna introduce you to my friends.”
“I don’t know, maybe.” Logan answered. Sure, meeting Natalie’s friends sounded fun but he didn’t want to just show up to, from how Natalie described it, what sounded like a family event. He didn’t know these people and these people didn’t know him, Logan didn’t like being the outsider. “Am I even invited?” He asked.
Natalie scoffed, “Of course you are, anybody is welcome. Plus,” she smiled at him. “I just invited you.”
Logan said nothing, only cast his eyes down to the floor.
“Lo,” Natalie set down the cup she was holding and walked over to Logan, she placed her hand on his shoulder. “If you really don’t want to go you don’t have to, but it’ll be fun and you’ve been down lately, I can tell.”
Natalie always knew what to say didn’t she?
“Fine.” He looked up at her, smiling slightly.
The smile that took over Nat’s face was blinding. “Yay! I can’t wait for you to meet everyone!” She brought Logan into a quick hug and pulled away, holding him at arms length. “Kase and I will be at yours by seven to pick you up, be ready!” And with that she spun around, picked up the cappuccino and left the kitchen, leaving Logan chuckling after her.
The car door slammed behind him as Logan sat in the back seat of Natalie’s car. “Hi, Lo!” Natalie greeted him through the rear view mirror. “You excited?”
“I guess you could say that, yeah.” Logan replied.
“Don’t worry,” Logan looked to the driver’s seat where someone had spoken up. “The team is always up for new members, I’m sure you’ll fit in great.” He turned in his seat and smiled at Logan. “Kasey Winter.”
This was Logan’s first time meeting Kasey. He knew of him of course. Natalie had mentioned him a couple times, her eyes lighting up every time his name was on her lips. From what he remembered, Kasey Winter was Natalie’s best friend— first love. Logan would have to get to know him, because he had a feeling he’ll probably be around a lot.
“Logan,” Logan looked down to buckle his seatbelt. “Tremblay.”
Kasey looked like he thought about something for a few seconds before smirking. “Nice to meet you, Tremzy.”
“Tremzy?” Logan furrowed his eyebrow and looked between Kasey and Natalie, confusion etched onto his face.
Natalie shook her head. “You’ve known him for a whole two minutes and you’ve already given him a hockey nickname?”
Kasey looked towards Natalie and shrugged. He started to say something, along the lines of, “What? It’s mandatory.” But Logan didn’t catch the rest of it before his thoughts took over. That’s right, another thing Natalie had mentioned about Kasey was that he was a professional hockey player. He was a little confused at learning this, thinking he’d heard that before. In fact, he had, and when he figured it out— who else had told him they were professional hockey players— the only thing he could think was, what are the chances? Now, the chances were seemingly getting slimmer by the second and everything was clicking into place. The team dinner. Would Logan run into them? Suddenly he found himself hoping that maybe the city of Gryffindor had two professional hockey teams.
“Blizzard!” Logan whipped his head around at the loud greeting, walking out of the porch and into the house Natalie and Kasey had brought him to— huge house might he add. If he knew hockey salaries payed this well.... “Bilzz,” the voice said again, passing all three of them by doorway and clapping Kasey on the back. “‘Bout time you got here. Nat.” He greeted, nodding at her. His eyes landed on Logan and he smiled bright. “A new face! James Potter, you?” The man—James—said, holding out his hand.
“Logan Tremblay.”
“Nice to meet you, Logan.” He started walking backwards into the living room. “Welcome to the team.” James winked horribly and turned around, sitting down on the couch and wrapping an arm around a girl who was laughing with some of the others, her red hair being twisted in the hands of a little boy sitting on her lap.
Kasey followed after him with a kiss to Natalie’s cheek and a pat to Logan’s back, he leaned up against the wall starting a conversation with one of his teammates. Because he didn’t look like he was going to, Natalie took the lead and led Logan into the living room where everyone else was chatting and laughing.
Logan took this opportunity to scan the room, no sign of blonde hair and brown eyes just yet. He hadn’t decided if that was good or bad.
Something Logan really wasn’t expecting when he got here was how friendly and calm the environment was. He wasn’t a huge hockey fan, he didn’t really know much about it. But from what he had seen over the years most hockey players weren’t the calm and collective type— and don’t get him wrong, these people were chaotic. But... in the best way. The chirps and jokes never had any malicious intent behind them, the room he was in was always filled with laughter; these people were more than just a team, they were a family. And maybe he already knew that coming in, but he never would have guessed it would be to this extent. They’d accepted Logan, a newcomer, who didn’t know a single thing about the sport of hockey and had only been in the state of Gryffindor a little more than a month. It didn’t matter who you were or where you came from, these people will take you in and make you one of their own; a lion.
He’d been ‘“Welcome to the team.”d’ more times than he could count and he was getting along well with everyone. He had taken a liking to Sirius— the team captain, he learnt. He had also learnt that Sirius was from Quebec as well, the two had quickly got to talking about everything and nothing in their native language and it made Logan happy to have someone to relate to like this who wasn’t his sisters. Pascal, or Dumo as the team called him, had introduced himself in French and he was pleasantly surprised when Logan answered back, completely unfazed and started a conversation up about his kid— Katie— who was resting on Dumo’s hip.
Natalie handed Logan a drink from where she returned from the kitchen. Kasey had joined them on the couch sometime earlier and Nat took a seat next to him, between him and Logan, handing him a drink as well just as someone said, “Nat, Kase, who’s your friend?” He walked over and sat on the arm of the couch next to Kasey. His name was Thomas from what Logan had heard, and he was yet to make a formal introduction to him.
“That would be my boss. Logan Tremblay.” Natalie joked, sending Logan a smirk.
Logan made a noise of disbelief and sat up straighter. “I am not your boss.” He exclaimed, incredulously.
“No, your sister is my boss.” Natalie corrected herself. “But you just as well may be too.”
Logan furrowed his eyebrows and chuckled at her antics before putting his attention back on the man next to them. A small smile upon his face after Natalie and Logan’s interaction. “You're Thomas right?” Logan asked.
“That would be correct! Heart and soul of the Lions!” Thomas’ smile beamed with pride. “You can call me Talker though. Do you have a name, Logan?”
Logan chuckled nervously. “But... I just told you my name?”
Talker was about to respond but was interrupted by Kasey, who suddenly joined in on the conversation. “This,” he reached behind Natalie and patted Logan’s back. “Is Tremzy.” He smirked at talker.
“Tremzy, huh?”
Logan knew he wouldn’t have gotten this lucky. The three of them, Talker, Kasey, and Logan, looked over towards the new voice; low and behold, there stood a beaming Finn O’Hara with a slightly surprised looking Leo Knut at his side. The two with drinks in hand and looking as beautiful as always. They walked over, Finn sitting on the floor in front of the group, while Leo chose to squeeze between Natalie and Logan, draping an arm over his shoulders. “Hi.” The blonde smiled sweetly and lay his head against Logan’s.
Finn brought his knees up to his chest. “Fancy seeing you here.” He winked, actually winked, and brought his cup up to his lips. Logan tried his very hardest to fight back a blush.
Logan thought he was going to die on the spot. He had no idea where this new behaviour was coming from from Leo and Finn but he definitely wasn’t complaining.
“What brings you here?” Finn asked, tone still teasing.
“I came here with Natalie and Kasey, if you’re asking.” Logan teased back.
“Oh,” Finn said. “And how do you guys know each other?”
“Well, Natalie and I work together.”
The redhead’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh?” He repeated, then looked towards Natalie. “Since when?”
“Finn, she literally told us that she got the job before we left for Florida.” Leo joined in.
“Oh yeah.” Finn drawled. “Forgot about that.”
“Speaking of,” Leo looked towards Natalie, about to ask how the job is, but before he did he burst out laughing. “What’s that look for?”
The look on Natalie’s face was priceless. It was a mix of horror and confusion, her eyebrows raised, eyes flickering between the three of them like she had just seen a ghost. “You okay, Nat?” Logan asked trying to hold back a smile and failing.
“I- I’m just confused on how you three are talking to each other like you’re best friends.” She answered. “Are you best friends?! And how come I never knew?!” She shot towards Logan.
“I wouldn’t say best friend-” Finn was shushed by Natalie’s finger, who was still looking at Logan expectantly.
Logan laughed. “They’re regulars of ours.” He said, referring to Finn and Leo’s daily coffee visits. “You just didn’t that because the entire time you’ve been working here they were in... Florida you said?” Logan asked Leo, who nodded. “Florida.” Logan explained, still laughing at how utterly confused Natalie looked.
“Oh.” Said Natalie, voice small. She put the pieces together finally. “Oh, yeah that makes sense.” They all just laughed the weird coincidence off and that was the end of it.
Not long after that Celeste came into the living room announcing that dinner was ready; they had all migrated to the kitchen, chatting and eating. Celeste Dumais’ cooking had been the best Logan's had in a while. One of the biggest things he missed about being home was his mother’s cooking and no matter how hard he and his sisters tried replicating Iva Tremblay’s home cooked meals was something they could not achieve. So to have this same sense of home was something he enjoyed every once in a while. 
After dinner most of the team started to clear out. With Lily and James leaving with a sleeping Harry that left only the Dumais family, Remus and Sirius, Natalie, Kasey, Leo, Finn and Logan. It was comfortable, everybody had started their own small conversations amongst themselves, Sirius had switched on the radio in the kitchen, the soft music flowing out into the living room. Leo, Finn and Logan were sat on the floor in front of the couch, Leo leaning against it, fingers carding through the redhead’s hair who was lid down with his head in Leo’s lap. Logan was sat next to them, shoulder to shoulder with Leo. They’d had a couple short lived conversations but now they were just sitting in silence and content to do so. That was until Finn got up.
“Where you going?” Leo asked, shivering ever so slightly now that the warmth of his boyfriend was gone.
Standing up, Finn took his cup off the coffee table and held it out, “Refill.” he answered. “You coming?” 
Leo got up without hesitation, already following Finn into the kitchen. He turned around, looking at Logan and raising a questing eyebrow. Logan knew what he was asking and got up as well, Leo waited for him and then they walked into the kitchen together. 
Finn was at the counter pouring himself a drink when they walked in, he turned around upon seeing them. “Can I get you something, Peanut?”
Logan just about melted at Finn’s nickname for his boyfriend. He’d have to learn the meaning behind it. It was moments like these where Logan realized he knew barely anything about these two boys. He wanted to know things about them, he wanted to know everything about them. Everything from their favourite colours to their middle names. Hell, he didn't even know their last names. He wondered if he’d ever get to know these details and when. He hoped it was soon. 
“No, i’m okay. Thanks.” Leo shook his head.
“Lo?” 
Logan snapped out of his thoughts at Finn’s voice directed at him. “Quoi?” 
“Can I get you anything?” Finn repeated.
“Oh. Um yeah, a coke?”
Finn screwed up his face but got Logan his drink anyways. “Here,” he said, handing it to Logan. “have your disgusting cup of sugar.”
Logan scoffed, “Says the person who drinks black coffee!”
“There is nothing wrong with the way I drink my coffee.” Finn pointed his finger at him.
“Whatever.” Logan rolled his eyes playfully and the look that crossed Finn’s face had Leo chuckling. 
“You know, Lo...” Leo started after some time had passed. “Last time we saw each other you said something about having to talk about something, our career was it?"
“I did say that I think.” Logan had forgotten about that.
“Yeah, I think we should talk about that.” Finn joined in. “But its getting kind of late and Le and I will be leaving soon.” And for the millionth time that night Finn smirked at him, “How about tomorrow? Maybe... over a coffee?”
Logan smiled, making the decision before he thought about it to much. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
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xiaomomowrites · 3 years
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act IV
Genshin Impact | TartaLi/ZhongChi
Summary: It was the way Zhongli’s warm amber eyes suddenly were not as warm anymore. The way he looked at him with a piercing look, void of remorse, as he handed his gnosis over willingly to go on a whole tangent about how his “duties were done”. It was the way he turned and treated the precious traveler with the same amount of kindness and gentleness the Childe had received the previous night, with such ease; it was a look he thought was reserved only for him. It was the way he was able to turn back around, stare at Childe with an unreadable gaze, and walk away without so much of a goodbye.
Or, Zhongli and Childe finally have the conversation that was long overdue.
A/N: I’ve been playing genshin for roughly four or five months now, I can’t remember exactly when I started, but boy do I love it. No you don’t understand, I’m obsessed. But these two have been taking up room in my big brain, so I wanted to write for them. It’s been awhile since I wrote for pleasure so hopefully this is satisfactory :,) and tomorrow, I’m back to school, so I thought I’d enjoy my last day of freedom and post this today. Fun fact, I’m minoring in professional writing, so I’m hoping that it’ll improve my writing skills when I write for luxury, too. Anyway, this was a really fun piece for me to write and I hope you share the sentiment.
Also thank you guys for being so patient with our inactivity and just being such a chill audience to write for. Other social media platforms have become so...demanding haha. I appreciate y’all! Feel free to message us or talk to us about whatever :) -u.n.
Find this on AO3!
Spoiler alert: this fic does contain spoilers for the A New Star Approaches arc, so read at your own risk.
In Childe’s line of work, he is no stranger to betrayal.
Working as a Fatui Harbinger meant an unhealthy amount of fighting, betraying one person, deceiving another, and then on occasion, getting betrayed himself. It was all in a days’ work. Childe knew he would just have to roll out his neck and move on. He’s done it before, he can do it again. He would think that, after nineteen years of this grueling rinse and repeat, that he’d be able to tolerate a lot in the field. In fact, working with that wretched colleague of his, Scaramouche, and serving the Tsaritsa with a loyalty unmatched explicitly calls for the patience and tolerance of a saint.
Alas, Childe is the furthest thing from a saint. And still, Zhongli’s betrayal stung the most out of anyone else’s, the reason still unbeknownst to him. He tells himself that it’s because he had actually befriended the other man. That, unlike his other missions, he developed more of a friendship with Zhongli than he has with anyone else in the past. Not to mention how he really thought he’d find the gnosis, in all its golden glory, seated deep within the Exuvia, and not within his friend.
Which is why after he watches Zhongli hand over his precious gnosis to Signora of all people, Childe makes haste to return to the inn he had been staying at to furiously pack his things and leave first thing in the morning. Seeing Signora in Liyue so close to Zhongli had triggered a deep seated feeling of possessiveness over him and the city. Liyue was his territory, as far as he was concerned. It was assigned to him by the Tsaritsa and no one else. And yet, despite his unspoken possession over Liyue, its people turned against him and viewed him as the enemy. As if Childe didn’t already know that. As if he hadn’t already grown up with a layered villain complex, subconsciously looking for a fool with a hero complex to match him. Then entered Zhongli, making himself at home in Childe’s life, and he was immediately enamouring the Harbinger.
Screw Liyue.
Screw all their traditions, the stupid glaze lilies, the delicious cuisine, the obvious livelihood that fills the streets in stark contrast to his own icy hometown, screw all those goddamn unnecessary mountains, that fish market with that abhorrent smell he gradually got used to, and screw Rex Lapis. Screw Zhongli, that handsome bastard, for stringing him along like his plaything the entire time.
Childe knows, he gets it, that Zhongli simply did what he had to do because it was best for his people. And what other way for the oldest of the seven to go, if not for a grand finale? And yes, Childe admits, luring out Osial was a stupid move, but it certainly served its purpose for testing the strength of Liyue and its defenders.
Zhongli and Signora knew he would do something stupid and reckless as soon as he caught wind of the Exuvia serving as a decoy. They knew, and they played the game so well, that Childe really thought he was the mastermind puppeteering the whole show.
What a fool he was made out to be.
Childe aggressively shoves blazer after blazer into his travel duffel, angry, pathetic tears pooling at the corners of his eyes without his consent. He sniffs angrily and swipes at his cheek as soon as the first tear falls.
Fuck this, he’s not crying over a god, he still has some dignity.
But still. Pride aside, it hurt. And it wasn’t even necessarily the deceit that hurt the most. He’s dealt with that previously. It was… more personal. More of an internal struggle than an external issue. Childe truly hates those the most. At least he can shove his fist through any external problem, but he can’t exactly do the same with his feelings, or whatever they’re called.
It was the way Zhongli’s warm amber eyes suddenly were not as warm anymore. The way he looked at him with a piercing look, void of remorse, as he handed his gnosis over willingly to go on a whole spiel about how his “duties were done”. It was the way he turned and treated the precious traveler with the same amount of kindness and gentleness the Childe had received the previous night, with such ease; it was a look he thought was reserved only for him. It was the way he was able to turn back around, stare at Childe with an unreadable gaze, and walk away without so much of a goodbye.
The same eyes that gazed at him with such affection and kindness were suddenly replaced with the eyes of a soldier. And it was only then that Childe fully realized the force he was reckoning with. Zhongli was a withered god who lived too long for his own good. A powerful deity that held the ability to shake the ground with a look; he who had been humbled by time and his sharp edges eroded by the millions of faces that passed him. Simply put, Childe was just another one of those faces. And again, he understood. If he lived for six thousand years, he wouldn’t want to be alive after the first hundred.
It was the duality that dug the blade deeper into his already bleeding chest. He felt used.
“I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent together, Childe,” Zhongli had said to him on a warm Liyuen night, “a friend of mine, a long time ago, told me that I was… bad at connecting with people. Emotionally stunted, is what she called me. And she is correct, as I have definitely struggled with making connections in the past. But with you… it’s different. It’s easy.
Childe is thankful for the discretion that night provides him; Zhongli would have easily spotted the blush spreading across his pale cheeks had it been daytime.
“So you had trouble making a couple friends, so what?” The ginger shrugs, “I wasn’t the best at making friends, either. My mom always said I was too aggressive. Apparently that’s not such an appealing trait, after all.”
Zhongli chuckles, a beautiful sound. “It was a bit deeper than that, I’m afraid. Understanding the complexity of another’s emotions was always difficult for me, whereas she… she was loved by everyone. Adored by the youngest of fawns to the oldest of horses. It came so naturally to her. I was the opposite. Not that everyone hated me, no, people just had a harder time getting close to me. Which is why, upon meeting you, I was shocked to find that we clicked so well. Befriending you was as easy as breathing air.”
Oh, Archons, help him.
“And,” Zhongli continues, as if he hadn’t already wrecked the man six ways to hell and back, “I must sincerely thank you for indulging me once again.” The deity glances down at the bag full of antique trinkets in his lap. Childe’s lips turn upward into one of his more genuine, rare smiles.
“What’s with you tonight?” Childe responds, and Zhongli looks at him questioningly , “I mean, you never had a problem with me spoiling you rotten before. You’ve never even acknowledged it. Why start now?”
Zhongli tears his gaze away from the Harbinger.
“And,” the ginger continues, “it almost sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”
Zhongli smiles at him then. He wore a kind look on his face, eyes so impossibly warm that it reminded him of his grandmother’s pirozhki. Hot and steaming from the center, melting on his tongue, dissolving deliciously in his mouth and defrosting his entire body. His smile felt like it wrapped itself around his chest and squeezed the best way possible, fitting him back together in places Childe didn’t even realize he had broken.
“What makes you say that?”
Oh, Childe is pissed.
Fuck tomorrow morning, Childe is leaving tonight.
The memories of last night crash over him not unlike a tidal wave and suddenly, he’s drowning. Filled out the brim with a familiar rage burning through his chest and searing his finger tips, his legs, his fucking toes.
He stands abruptly when he realizes he’s been sitting and resumes his packing. It doesn’t take very long after that. A couple toiletries get shoved into the side pockets, his vision is hooked back onto his hip, and his mask is slid into its’ usual spot on his head. He looks at himself in the mirror on the way out and scowls at the way his hair looks more disheveled than usual. Red rims his dulled blue eyes, forcing him to accept that maybe he cried more than he’d like to admit. Whatever.
He swings the door open and-
“Childe,” lo and behold, Zhongli stands in his fucking doorway, “I’d like to talk to you, if that’s alright.” The man looks slightly disheveled. He’s a little out of breath, Childe notices, like he ran up those ridiculous flights of stairs to get to his room- which, by the way, he never disclosed that information with him.
The man in question huffs a laugh. “It’s not.”
He makes a move to brush past him, but is stopped by an unreasonably strong grip around his bicep.
“Tartaglia,” he pleads, “please.”
Childe snatches his arm back and spits, “don’t call me that.”
He retreats back into his room anyway, hearing Zhongli close the door behind him. He dumps the bag back onto his bed and curses himself for not leaving a millisecond earlier.
“You’re angry with me.” Zhongli starts, face as unreadable as ever.
“The sky is blue. Snezhnaya is cold. Are we still stating the obvious here?” He’s too angry to carefully choose his words. Too hurt to slip on his pleasant facade.
“Tartaglia,” he presses, and Childe really hates how his name sounds on his tongue, “I truly am sorry for the way things had to go. It was not in my intentions to… hurt you to the degree in which you feel. I simply was upholding the end of my contract and doing what was best for my people. I implore you to believe that making you feel used was not my main objective.“
Oh god, his apology sounds so robotic.
“So you’re aware that what you did was a little fucked up.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re aware that almost the entirety of Liyue places the blame on me.”
“Yes.”
Well, shit. “Good talk, Zhongli-xiansheng. If you’ll excuse me, I must begin my trip home.”
He stomps toward the door only to be stopped once again. Archons, if Childe had any motivation left, he most certainly would challenge him to a spar. The ginger huffs, and looks to the heavens in a silent plea for patience.
“Tartaglia, please, I’m not finished-“
“Yeah, well I am.” Their eyes lock. Blue meets gold in a hostile hold, refusing to break. “The second you handed your gnosis over, my business here was done. Whatever… relationship we had is done. You were my consultant and was a Harbinger here for business. A Harbinger that you obviously used for your disposal. So now that that’s over and done with, I really need to report to Tsaritsa, lest she have my head on a silver platter-“
“I spoke with Tsaritsa already.” Zhongli cuts in, his grip tightening around Childe’s wrist. “I asked her for more time with you.”
“You what.”
“Surely you are curious about the deal I struck with Tsaritsa. The contract to end all contracts, yes?” Childe’s wild look on his face eggs him to continue, “I struck a deal that granted you more time here in Liyue. With me.”
Childe is silent for a moment. The ex-Archon opens his mouth to continue.
“And I’d like to say I’ve known you long enough to know that you seek freedom. From what that may be, I do not know. But Tsaritsa has agreed to give you a choice, at the very least, a temporary one. An extended vacation or complete retirement is a choice to be made by you.” Zhongli finishes, looking to Tartaglia with hope.
“THAT is worth your fucking gnosis?!” Zhongli’s gnosis. The entire essence of his being. The very thing that makes him divine (thought it certainly isn’t the only thing that makes the man ethereal), was traded for him.
“Yes,” Zhongli replies with such ease it makes Childe’s head spin. “Among other things, of course.” An aggressive why is lodged in the back of Childe’s throat. Why me? A million questions swirl around his head, knocking him off balance. He would have swayed on his feet had Zhongli not been there to hold him upright.
“That’s insane. You’re insane. You…” Childe lets out a tired sigh, “I don’t understand you.” And he doesn’t. Because one minute he’s a cold hearted businessman, and the next he’s at his door, reduced to a mortal, begging him to stay. Granting him freedom. Really, what kind of fucked up game is this? Why didn’t anyone tell him he was a part of it?
Zhongli smiles. He smiles. “You remember our conversation from the night before, yes?”
Childe rolls his ever-blue eyes to the back of his head. “Remind me, Zhongli-sensei,”
“I said,” the deity starts, drawing both of Childe’s calloused hands between his own, “that I struggled to connect with others. Guizhong, the Goddess of Dust, was the one to bring to my attention my emotional constipation. And like I said, she was correct.”
Childe’s anger withers.
“Unfortunately I understand naught of the depth of your feelings of betrayal,” he continues, “but I do wish to understand how deeply humans feel. And in our time together, I’ve begun to understand through you. Despite your… complexities. And I wish to continue to learn. With you.” I wish to feel human is left unsaid, and laced between his words instead.
“What are you saying,” the Harbinger asks weakly.
“Take me with you.”
“What.”
“Take me with you. Wherever you go, I will follow, if you will allow it.”
Well duh, he’d allow it. Zhongli just had to work for it a little more. He can’t just waltz in here after breaking his heart and ruining his trust, demanding his friendship and companionship or whatever, after everything he was put through-
“Okay.”
Very nice ass to mouth filter, Ajax.
Zhongli’s eyes glow impossibly brighter, “Okay?”
Childe tugs his hands back to his side. “Yes, yes, fine. Whatever. But you can’t just. You can’t just use me again in the name of experimentation.”
“Tartaglia, I would never,” he assures him vehemently, “Of the seven, I was always the one most oblivious to emotions. You may ask Barbatos if you want. But I know that what I feel for you is real and I would not trade it for the world.”
Childe’s mind reels. Barbatos? Feelings?
“‘What you feel for me?’”
Zhongli cocks his head in confusion, as if his feelings were the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, yes. And you feel the same, no? It need not be said aloud.”
“It really doesn’t,” Childe affirms, “you can save me the embarrassment.”
“Wonderful,” Zhongli’s face brightens, and it’s only then that Childe is hit with the full realization that Zhongli is free. No longer is he tied to the city and burdened with the weight of the people. No longer does he have to associate himself with the likes of the Tsaritsa. Finally, after centuries and centuries, he is allowed the pleasure to smile so brightly despite feeling pained for finally leaving his people. He is Zhongli, and no longer Rex Lapis. Morax is long gone, too. The man before him is a man reborn, and Childe’s heart aches with happiness for him.
“Okay, well,” he clears his throat when he notices he’s been quiet for too long, “it’s been a long day and I’m tired. I think I’m just gonna take a shower and turn into bed and think about the rest tomorrow. Save it for future Childe, you know?”
He pads over to his hastily packed back and zips it back open, pulling out the toiletries he aggressively shoved in less than an hour ago. He digs his fingers into his neck and sighs at the release of tension. Summoning an angry ocean god took a lot more out of him than he anticipated.
“I agree,” Zhongli says, and begins to strip. “Personally I prefer the left side of the bed.”
Childe gawks at him.
“You-!” Truly an emotionally constipated god, indeed. He sighs and his shoulders droop, the fight leaving his body. “Fine. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be out in a bit.”
“I eagerly await your return,” Zhongli comments passively as he slips under the covers, a book he didn’t even know he was carrying tucked under his arm. Childe sighs for the nth time that night and turns to close the bathroom door behind him.
Future Childe certainly has a lot to deal with in the morning.
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detectiveidiotboy · 3 years
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His Time In The Commonwealth IV: Danse
so as my beloved fanfiction, The Black Widow’s Waltz, comes to an end, i’ve decided that i am going to re-release the backstory chapters as their own stand-alone fic, since they read well as their own story. before that, i thought i might do a fun little thing where i release each of the companions backstories as their own post here on tumblr under the tag #his time in the commonwealth.
i had to take a break from posting for mental health and to deal with some things in my home life, but i'm back now! and with me comes the continuation of this mini-series. now, on to part 4!!! Danse's story.
The walk from Listening Post Bravo to Nordhagen Beach took three days. Had Danse been in top shape and traveling in his power armor, he was certain he could have made the trip in less than two, but speed wasn’t a priority in this mission; this was a pilgrimage.
It had been twelve weeks since his banishment, eighteen days since he’d last had contact with Nate, and seven since the Prydwen had been destroyed.
Danse had only learned about the attack the day before his journey began as he was attempting to trade with a nearby settlement. Nate had been his only source of supplies since he’d begun his self-imposed isolation, and since Nate had stopped showing up to visit, Danse had been left to ration his dwindling supplies until there wasn’t anything left to eat. He had considered allowing himself to starve to death down beneath the earth - continuing his existence was a waste of resources now that he wasn’t even able to serve Nate or the Brotherhood - but that plan only lasted two days after his last meal.
Nate had told Danse to stay alive. Nate had given him orders to care for himself until he returned because Danse was special to him. Danse understood what he was: he was a tool, a synth, a man-made creation meant to serve and obey humankind. If he could not be of use to the Brotherhood directly, then the next best thing he could do was dedicate himself to serving one of their best. Really, if he were honest, the idea of being Nate's personal synth wasn't unappealing to Danse. If anything, it wasn't fair to Nate that Danse be kept around to tempt him into violating Brotherhood rules. Sexual relations with machines was strictly prohibited, as was homosexuality, but Nate carelessly disregard both rules when it came to Danse, and Danse couldn't be more grateful. He was an abomination, therefore it wasn't his place to question a human such as Nate; Nate wanted him alive, and in good health, and because of that Danse had packed a bag with the few things he had to trade and walked to Tenpines Bluff.
As soon as Danse arrived, he was met with guns and suspicion.
“Stay back,” The settler warned, warding Danse back with the barrel of a rifle. “We don’t want nothin’ to do with you or your freak of a friend.”
Danse had been aware that Nate had a… reputation around the Commonwealth. He’d been a witness to several violent (bordering on psychotic) outbursts from the man. However, he had accompanied Nate several times to this particular settlement, and the people there had never been hostile before.
“I… am sorry for any confusion,” Danse said, licking his lips. He was severely out of practice after two weeks of near-total solitude, “Paladin Nate is not accompanying me at this time.”
The settler narrowed their eyes at Danse. “You…  don’t know where he is, do you?”
“I have not had contact with Nate in weeks,” He confirmed. The sights came down after a moment of deliberation and the settler sighed.
“Jesus, I’m sorry,” They stretched their head with a hand. “Look. You just missed your buddies, but you should probably keep clear of them - they seemed to think you might have teamed up with Nate when the ship was attacked.”
“Ship? Which ship?” Danse felt his stomach drop, the pieces of the puzzle having presented themselves yet he dare not assemble them.
“The big one you lot got up by Nordhagen,” They said, expression turning from tired to something almost pitying. “You really don’t know what happened? The whole ship was blasted out of the sky. Damn near everyone in Boston had to have seen it - what, have you been livin’ under a rock for the past week?”
“There was an attack on the Prydwen?” Danse asked, taking a panicked step forward. The settler adjusted their grip on the rifle and Danse reminded himself that even without power armor, he was a large and unfamiliar man to these people. “When? Who?”
“About five days ago, I think,” The settler said. “We just heard about it when the survivors came through and raided our supplies - grilled me and my wife for hours about everything we knew about Nate.”
Danse’s heart stopped beating, he was certain of it. Why would the remaining Brotherhood want to know about Nate? The answer was obvious, blindingly so, but Danse couldn’t bring himself to even think it. Nate was Brotherhood, through and through - it was not the place of an Institute machine to question the loyalty of a flesh-and-blood human dedicated to the betterment of humanity.
Swallowing, Danse forced himself to put on a brave face and ask his question. “Was Paladin Nate there at the time of the attack?”
The settler actually laughed, though the question wasn’t funny and neither was his answer. “Was he there? I’m sorry but if what your pals said was true, he was the one that blew the damn thing up.”
Danse had ended up leaving his supplies with the settlers. There was at least 250 caps worth of ammo and scrap in the sack, but it would just weigh him down on his journey. The settlers insisted that he at least stay for dinner and leave in the morning, but Danse saw the state of their garden after the Brotherhood had been through and politely declined. It would be a waste to force humans to part with anything valuable to sustain the functionality of an obsolete machine. He had completely forgotten his hunger anyways; all that mattered to Danse was finding out if what he’d been told was true.
By the time he was close enough to see the empty spot in the sky where the Prydwen should be, he had his answer. Travelers, settlers and raiders alike had confirmed the story with identical depictions of events. According to the few witnesses left, Nate had walked onto the bridge of the ship with a gun and, without speaking to anyone, began assassinating high-ranking members of the Brotherhood, starting with Elder Maxson. The bloody massacre ended with Nate walking into the engine room and detonating an explosion - one that most likely came from the very mini-nukes that Danse had helped Nate secure.
Danse had tried to withhold judgment - he should wait to hear what Nate had to say. The descriptions all came second hand, after all. The Brotherhood survivors had all either retreated or were being treated in what was left of the major settlements. And the description of Nate that he was being given didn’t sound like his friend, his trainee, his partner one bit.
Except…
When Paladin Danse first met Nate, he had been backed against the wall by several hundred feral ghouls threatening the lives of his scouting team. While he would likely be fine so long as the fusion core in his armor held, Hayen and Rhys were vulnerable. He’d already watched the ghouls descend on Keane, tackling the knight in waves. Danse had shot them down, but it was too late. Keane never came back up.
So when Nate walked into the scene, rocket launcher in hand, and blew half of the mob to dust before Danse could finish warning his team to check their fire, he had been inclined to ignore the sinister, psychotic look of glee that Nate wore as he ripped apart the ghouls. Hell, Danse had delighted in it, feeling his men had been avenged. The moment the battle was over and those steel-blue eyes locked onto his, Danse knew he had found someone special.
Nate’s reputation hadn’t quite formed yet, but from the handful of missions that Danse accompanied him on it was clear to tell he would make a fine soldier. He was resilient and a fast shot; anything that stood in his way he took down. It was as if the man was made for the Brotherhood.
Danse offered Nate knight-ship several times before he was taken up on his offer. Nate rarely came to visit when he was in Cambridge, and when he did it was almost always to trade or ask for spare jobs to make a few extra caps. It was only when the Prydwen came rolling through that Nate seemed to seriously consider Danse’s offer. It was strange - Danse feeling honored for Nate to join his ranks rather than the other way around.
Nate made him feel a certain way, something he hadn’t felt since Cutler. Danse could watch Nate fight for hours, muscles flexed under his vaultsuit as he clubbed in the head of a ghoul or gunning down a cluster of synths. His nights were often spent imagining exactly what it would look like if it was his neck that Nate was crushing between those smooth hands and not some random raider. It was foolish, and wildly inappropriate behavior as Nate’s sponsor.
Maybe that was what made him overlook some of the man’s more obvious flaws.
By the time Nate was inducted into the Brotherhood, his reputation as a ruthless and cunning man had become fairly well known. Maxson was willing to overlook Nate’s violent past thanks to a combination of Danse’s vouching and the fact that most of Nate’s targets were shared with the Brotherhood. He had infiltrated and collapsed the Railroad, dismantled the Institute's hold over Diamond City, and struck down the mayor of a mostly-ghoul city in east Boston. His methods were harsh, but they were necessary - at least, that’s what Danse told the Elder.
“Still,” Elder Maxson had said. “It’s best we keep an eye on him. I’m not sure if our new recruit’s heart is in the right place.”
“Believe me, sir,” Danse had told him, “I would trust Knight Nate with my life.”
“That may be so…” Maxson said, “but I still have my doubts. It’s best not to take the word of a known liar at face value, and Nate has quite the reputation of betrayal.”
The truth had been there the entire time. Danse recalled the first time he had met someone who knew Nate outside of the Brotherhood, a young woman by the name of Curie. It had been shortly after the destruction of the Railroad and just before his induction into the Brotherhood. She had seemed nervous around Nate, agreeing a little too quickly to what he said and keeping her eyes on him the entire time. Haylen had taken to her rather quickly, both girls having bonded over shared medical knowledge, and Danse remembered well what she had to say when asked if she liked traveling with Nate.
“Oh- o-oui… I mean…” Her fingers tightened around the cup of tea she had been sipping at. “Monsieur is… complicated, in his motives. I am sure he has good reasons for what he is doing… I simply must trust him. He has done so much for me already.”
Danse had felt her words were foolish. She was lucky to have so much of the man’s attention, and it seemed strange that she didn’t recognize that. Less than a week later Danse watched as Nate dragged her into an abandoned shack, barred the door, and set the house on fire. Later, Nate informed Danse that the girl had been a synth and that he was only doing as the Brotherhood instructed of him. Danse had been forced to agree - despite the vast wealth of knowledge that Curie held, her existence was far too dangerous to be tolerated.
The screams that came from the house as the woman burned alive haunted Danse no matter how many times he reminded himself they were from an artificial being. For a while he wondered if synths could simulate humanity so closely as to feel pain; he had his answer now, he supposed. That girl had died in agony.
The Nate described to Danse during his expedition to the beach was far closer to the Nate in those memories than the idealized soldier that Danse had stuck in his head. The Nate who had eyes like Cutlers and spoke to him as if he were human, even after his synthetic nature was revealed. The Nate who had kissed him in the center of the old radio station on their first official mission into the Commonwealth. The Nate who would disappear for months at a time and then reappear at a moment’s notice, ready to drag Danse along on whatever new quest had taken his fancy. The Nate who never slept in the same bed as Danse after he came around for a quick fuck. The Nate who was rumored to have murdered his girlfriend a year prior. The Nate who had set his previous partner on fire when he was done with her, then walked across the field to press a loving kiss to Danse’s lips as she died. The Nate who had promised Danse to be there for him after his exile only to leave him to waste away in solitude. The Nate who had destroyed the Prydwen.
They were all the same Nate.
When Danse finally made it to the airport, he was surprised by just how familiar it seemed. The carnage had been mostly scraped away by local settlers, leaving behind only the hollowed out remains of training camps and supply stations. The opportunity for a new settlement hadn't been lost on the local population; by the time Danse arrived there were already the makings of several homes under construction. Upon arrival Danse was recognized by his uniform and a handful of the new settlers offered him their condolences. He was shown the way to the resting place for those who had been recovered - little more than a mass grave dug behind the airport marked with scattered crosses and hung holo-tags. It was more than Danse had been expecting. The locals he had met in this area before had despised the Brotherhood with a passion - the fact that they hadn’t just left the bodies to rot while looting everything they could hold from the abandoned stores was a genuine surprise. He walked along the grave sights, checking the tags for names he recognized. He found several, but Haylen and Rhys weren't among them. Whether that meant they were still alive or among the hundreds of nameless casualties, Danse would never know.
Danse turned away gifts of food and offers for a place to rest. His body was at its limit, exhausted and starving, but anything put into it now would be a waste. All of this destruction and death was because of him; he was not the victim, but rather the perpetrator. Danse intended to answer for his sins against humanity.
After politely asking for a moment alone from the concerned settlers, Danse left to walk through the empty airport. He had hoped that there would be something left of the Prydwen on land for him to do this in, but the majestic ship was resting with many of her inhabitants at the bottom of the bay. So Danse found the next best place - the first-story storage area that had been cleared out. He retrieved his pistol from his jacket pocket and knelt down before pressing the end of the barrel to the hollow of his temple.
“I am asking for you to do the human thing here, Knight,” Danse pleaded, knees on the cold, damp ground of the listening post.
“And I’m telling you I don’t want to,” Nate had argued, stubborn as ever. “I like you, Danse, synth or not. I’m not ready to give you up just yet. I need you to stay alive.”
The words had felt so kind at the time. Danse, who was nothing more than a machine lamenting the loss of what it had never really owned, had leaned into those words. They became his anchor, his world, his reason- no- his excuse to keep on living. Looking back on them after seeing the graves of his fellow soldiers - some hung with the hats of squires who were too young to have been given tags yet - he saw those words for what they were: selfishness. Nate acted for his own sake. He served no one but himself, and he had used Danse in every conceivable way. What else should Danse have expected? It was the nature of a machine to be useful to those who took advantage of it.
Danse was a foolish, treacherous, malfunctioning thing, but the very last act he would commit would be a human one. If reincarnation was something that existed for synths, he hoped he would get a chance someday to be more than just a cheap imitation of humanity.
“You know, I’m not an expert with pistols or anything, but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to put that end there.”
The gun dropped from Danse’s forehead. He unclenched his eyes and turned to face the newcomer.
“Mind your own business, Scavver,” Danse said wearily, though still managing to push through some of his commanding tone from a previous life, if only so he didn’t prolong this longer than necessary. He could already feel his resolve wavering.
“Aw, come on, man,” The person in the doorway stepped into the room, arms stretched out behind his head in a relaxed pose. A pair of mirrored sunglasses reflected Danse’s haggard appearance back at him. “Haven’t the guys around here had to bury enough bodies this week? Why add to the trauma?”
Danse’s eyes narrowed, but he did stand up and put this pistol back in his pocket. “You make an excellent point,” He said, headed for the door. “I will relocate myself to a more remote location as not to disturb the population.”
“Thaaaat’s not quite what I meant,” The man blocked the exit with an arm and refused to stand down, even as Danse towered over him. “Actually, I have a proposition for you - nothing weird - I promise-” He said, holding out his hands in a show of good faith. Danse used the opportunity to sidestep the stranger and walk out of the old hanger and into the hallway. The man scurried behind him. “So, I can imagine what is going through your mind right now - who is this guy? How did he get to be so handsome? Why doesn’t he want me to blow my brains out in an old-world aircraft hangar?”
Danse ignored the man, which did nothing to stop his ranting.
“In order - My name is Deacon, I moisturize daily, and I want you to join my super awesome resistance movement to take down the rat bastard known as the Sole Survivor of Vault 111-” Danse stopped dead in his tracks. “-though I suppose you were close enough to know him as Nate, right?”
Danse turned to look over the man - Deacon, as he claimed to be. He was bald, as evidenced by his ill-fitting wig sagging just enough to show his absent hairline. He was dressed like a civilian, but up close Danse could see the ballistic armor plates hidden under his flannel shirt. There was a look about him that Danse recognized from some of the scribes, specifically the ones who had been tasked with recon. His eyes twitched at Danse's every movement, and the slight tremor in Deacon's fingers pointed him in the direction of a pistol tucked into the stranger's pants line. In short - Danse’s summary of the man was that there was more to him than just a scavenger with delusions of grandeur.
Still, he turned back around.
“Even if what you are saying is true, I cannot in good conscience accept your offer,” Danse said, continuing his long walk. Deacon kept up pace beside him.
“Really? You’re still loyal to him even after he turned half of your buddies into flaming corpses?”
Danse felt rage hit him in a wave, but years of emotional control stayed his hand. Still, he faltered in his gait. “Nate is dead to me," He said with all the contempt he had left in him. "Should I have the opportunity I would gladly put that monster down myself. My issue is not with your cause, but rather with myself. I am a synth. Taking me into your organization would be too great of a security risk.
“Oh, right, that. Yeah, I already know about that, don’t worry,” Deacon said flippantly. Danse pushed open the double doors leading to the exterior of the airport, and despite letting the doors fall back on Deacon, the man kept following. “I asked a whole bunch of the Brotherhood guys if they wanted to join up, but most of them turned tail and headed back to the capital. But there was always this one guy who they kept mentioning, yeah? A pal of Nate's who turned out to be a synth. The guy was supposedly still running around in the Commonwealth, one M7-97.” Danse took a deep breath, hating every second he spent listening to this man speak. “That’s you right? See, I figured if I hung around here long enough I’d see you. Nate isn’t exactly… good to his friends when he’s done with them. And I’d say blowing up the Prydwen was about as done as done gets.”
“As stated, I am no longer affiliated with him,” Danse said, pausing at the water’s edge when he realized there was no shaking the persistent little pest. “If you are looking for intel on his current location, I have nothing to offer you. Last contact was precisely eighteen days ago at Listening Point Bravo.”
“Oh nah, I didn’t expect anything like that,” Deacon said, coming up beside Danse. He reached down for a rock in the sand and skipped it along the bay. “I just figured joining up with us might be a decent enough alternative to suicide.”
“It is not suicide, it is turning off a broken machine,” Danse clarified. He couldn’t see the man’s eyes, but he was almost certain that Deacon rolled them behind his glasses.
“Well, when that machine is sentient, we call it suicide,” He said with a sigh. “Look, man, I know what you’re going through, believe me.”
Danse’s eyes narrowed, no longer able to keep his contempt from his face. “How could you possibly know that? The Brotherhood was humanity’s best hope for a better future, and because of my malfunction its ranks have been compromised, possibly irreparably.”
Deacon fell down onto his ass, stretching out so his bare feet were caught by the waves as they lapped the shore. “I know 'cause you’re not the only one he’s stabbed in the back,” Deacon said, looking out across the water. “I was part of the Railroad.”
Danse’s neck snapped to the side, looking down at the man. His mouth opened in a prepared lecture about the folly of mistaking synths for human beings and the role of the Railroad in humanity’s doom, but he saw Deacon remove the sunglasses from his face and for the first time he was looking into the other man’s eyes.
“Nate took us out in the dead of night. No one saw it coming,” Deacon continued. “He was a new agent, but the higher-ups put a lot of faith in him, because someone they trusted had recommended him - me.” Deacon looked back towards the waves, propped up with his hands behind him. “Look, I’m not gonna sit around and babysit you. If you want out, there isn’t much I can do to stop you. But right now, I’ll be honest, the only thing keeping me going is revenge, and that’s a hell of a lot better than being dead.”
Silence fell between them. Danse had no idea what to say to all that. On the one hand, he was perfectly happy with the destruction of a dangerous underground movement such as the Railroad, and on the other, the parallels between his and Deacon’s story were not lost on him. Danse knew that the right thing to do was to decline Deacon’s offer - possibly even take the synth sympathizer down with him before he caused any more harm - and continue with his plan to terminate his existence.
But Danse didn’t want to die, or whatever one would call it when a synth ceased to be. And more than that, he didn’t want Nate to keep on living. There were hundreds of people on that ship - men, women, children . Not all of them were good, Danse was well aware of the unsavory types that were often attracted to the military lifestyle, but none of them deserved to die the way they did only to end up buried hundreds of miles from home in a mass grave.
Maybe it was selfishness, maybe it was revenge, maybe it was raw, human (or at least human-like) emotion, but Danse finally came to his decision with a decisive nod of his head.
“Okay.” He said. “Tell me what you need me to do.”
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crowsent · 4 years
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a fuckton of things i want in da4
a few words censored bc tumblr will swallow this in the void if i dont. long ass fuck list ahead
a romanceable dwarf
more romanceable elves/qunari
more elf/qunari/dwarf companions
consistent writing for once
more nb representation
good hair. please just give me good hair options. give me long hair. give me luxurious flowing locks. give me braids. give me good fucking hair options
let me shittalk the chantry
dalish elf npcs that impact the plot in unique ways
dalish elf companions that are proud of being dalish
if it is set in tevinter maybe uh. maybe address the issue of systemic oppression (and slavery) of elves???????
a return of the friendship/rivalry system in da2 but improved. maybe instead of a friendship rivalry sliding scale its friendship/rivalry/animosity sliding scale. bc rivalry is more like. two people pushing each other to be better than they were before. friendly competition. hes an idiot but hes my idiot kind of deal. animosity would be just regular disapproval. i liked the crisis cutscenes in dai so high animosity would be the same as low approval and might make the companion leave still, but theres more variety with high approval. high approval “friendship” would be the “were best friends and we share many opinions and agree on almost everything” while high approval “rivalry” being “we disagree on almost everything but goddamn it youre my friend and ill follow you into the fade if i have to” so you can have a high approval with someone instead of being a kissass
actions and choices having consequences again
multiple endings again (epilogue slideshows dont count)
dialogue wheels with descriptions that match what you actually say
characters from rivain, antiva, anderfels, etc
gifts. bring back the gifts. i want to give my companions gifts
maybe. maybe a focus of non-andrastian religion for once?
let me shittalk the chantry
i know its a stretch, but maybe. diverse skin colours. please?
nd characters that are written respectfully and treated w dignity
please bring back the talent wheel from dao and da2
more bi romance options
more wlw romance options
more mlm romance options
ace romance options
nb romance options
background romances
let me shittalk the chantry
far fetched but maybe a polycule?
i lowkey LOVED the fast-paced feel of da2s combat so maybe bring that back in some form? maybe improved to mesh with the tactics of dai to give players absolute freedom of playstyle whether they want to be like me and rush into every encounter or play more strategically
companions with unique companion abilities
would be nice to explore cities
would be nice if the open world were a little smaller so it doesnt feel empty all the gd time
more mage spells. mages felt like just another class of fighter to me in dai. they dont really have any awe-inducing wow factor like in dao or even da2. if the narrative wants me to believe that mages are powerful and dangerous and that it takes multiple templars to hunt down an apostate, maybe show that? give me strong mages
remove the jump ability. its pointless
a narrative that addresses the oppression that the chantry and templars perpetuated please
bring back the attributes
make the choices in dai matter. mages governing themselves? i wanna see that
let me shittalk the chantry
please bring back the healing magic for fucks sakes
multi-class system between rogues and warriors?
multiple specialisations that feel like specialisations and not just skill tree+
player-only skill trees
hardening
companion quests that affect their abilities and further dialogue
actual morally grey choices instead of this stupid mage freedom vs templar oppression narrative that is in no way morally grey but is presented as such and thus leaves the conflicts and narratives set up by dao and da2 to be fucking meaningless
bring back the tactics
would be nice to have an origins-esque prologue again. maybe one that would determine future events in game just to give your character better narrative cohesion with the plot
an approval/disapproval system but for companions with other companions. bringing certain companions together may bring them closer or make them pissed off with each other which affects banter maybe quests maybe combat
give me a fucking mabari bioware. give me back my fucking mabari
day/night cycle
a nightmare mode where you have to finish the main quest on a time limit. it is absurd that dai expects me to believe that i have all this time to do wartable missions that can take literal real life DAYS to finish and still thwart corypheus’ plans in time. bullshit
that said. no more wartable missions. waiting for a countdown to finish isnt very fun
let me shittalk the chantry
kal-sharok. ive been hearing about it since dao let me fucking see kal-sharok
dwarven politics
politics in general. my fav dao quest was the succession crisis plotline in orzammar/the landsmeet and wewh in dai
npcs i can talk to. even with generic dialogue like in dao. makes the world more alive
using the environment to your advantage. far fetched but i would love to be able to pull down boulders if were in the mountains or freeze water to get to places as a mage
home base customisation but the customisation choices you make actually. mean something. and do something. or at the very least give more companion dialogue/banter/approval change
laconic and ergonomic codexes. like. sorted by what kind of codex it is, etc etc but then you just get a brief summary of the codex and the option to read more about it so i dont spend eternity scrolling through cards looking for a specific codex entry. cool aesthetic dont get me wrong but real irritating to deal with. also. maybe. the pc making comments about the codex if you do read more about it? like a dalish elf saying “they got it all wrong” when reading a codex about dalish elves written by a human??? that would a) give character to the pc b) incentivise people to actually read the codex to see what was so wrong about it c) summarise the codex for people who want to learn the lore but dont want to spent the entire game reading text
maybe have the merchants in your home base close to crafting stations so you dont have to take a fucking hike if you miscounted the amount of elfroot you need?
let me shittalk the chantry
avvar companion maybe??? interesting lore right there
bring back stat requirements for weapons and remove the class restriction for most shit. obviously a dagger would be better for a rogue than a longsword and a mage would do better with a staff than a sword and shield but its not about efficiency. its about the roleplay. its about the options. give me the option to make a mage with wildly inappropriate stat distribution
bring back sustained mode abilities
traps. bring back traps. bring back the option to stealth into an area, trap the fuck out of it, and go from there
have the three available classes in kind of a rock paper scissors scenario. warriors do real well against rogues who do real well against mages who do real well against warriors. so you can plan your party depending on who/what youll face AND how much their approval will change during the quest you take them on
let me shittalk the chantry
actually resolve the plot points introduced in dai
a more threatening villain. the inquisitor thwarted every attempt made by corypheus in dai. he was not threatening at all
queer characters. background, companions, etc. queer characters
mounts were meh in dai. maybe. make them faster? or less cumbersome? or have your companions on mounts too so theres still banter?
i liked the armour tinting. let me have armour tinting from the beginning
i would really like mages to move and attack at the same time bc lowkey standing in one spot is uhhhhhhh kinda boring
let me check companions friendship/rivalry levels
would be nice if the narrative acknowledged that elves suffered greatly at the hands of the chantry and stopped victim-blaming them
more taverns. specifically like tapsters in dao where theres a dwarf just reciting something in a language i cant understand and if you look its a ballad/poet about dwarven culture and that was a real nice touch let me have that
dalish elf clan. dalish elf clan that does not get murdered please and thank you
meaningful quests. more cinematic dialogue
make found gear / quest reward gear more valuable than crafted gear
game modifiers like in dai were real nice. i want more
let me shittalk the chantry
quests that can be resolved in multiple ways. like connors fate in dao. and for those ways to impact further quests
companions with varying moral alignments
companions that are mutually exclusive (like alistair and loghain) but are both good companions so itd really make you think
a pc that IS NOT a “chosen one” vanilla da2 is my fav dragon age game for one reason and one reason only and that is because hawke is just some random refugee who escaped lothering. no chosen one magic at all. just an ordinary person who is a real good fighter. and that appealed to me more than this “you are the only one who can do it” narrative
let me meet more elvhen gods
if the setting is in tevinter, GIVE ME FUCKING ARCHITECTURE. give me the high spires, the archways, the buttresses, give me statues lining city gates and magic infused into the buildings. tevinter is a land ruled by MAGES give me magical architecture. give me floating buildings. give me fire floating as orbs above the streets like lamps. GIVE ME ARCHITECTURE
SHALE
let me shittalk the chantry
PIERCINGS GIVE ME FUCKING PIERCINGS BIOWARE
more main quests, longer main quests
if it is set in tevinter maybe. maybe address the fact that tevinter has been at war with the qunari for a while? on and off war is still war. and maybe give us the option to influence the outcome of that war?
more voice options. instead of just american voice or british voice, do the thing in dao again where there are multiple voices of different tones to further cement the pcs personality
more armour designs
biased but uh. can. can taliesen jaffe va a character?
i already said qunari companions but specifically saarebas companions
blood magic
FINISHING MOVE ANIMATIONS
please do not let it be as long as inquisition. inquisition was a SLOG in later playthroughs
body sliders. what if i want a tall but lanky qunari? what if i want a buff as shit elf? body sliders
more eye options
let me call out companions
btw bioware. if you really wanted cullen to be a good guy. maybe handle his fucking redemption arc a little better instead of retconning all the terrible and creepy shit hes done in the past k thx
can female walk/run animations not have. so much swaying hips? no one moves like that
personality dialogue that affects future dialogue like in da2 but meshed with the wider range of emotions introduced by dai
keep the race/s*x lock on romance candidates like in dai. keep the fact that some characters can only be romanced by certain races or s*xes
nb and genderqueer options for the pc
cutscenes of companions interacting
ngl i lowkey liked the random encounters of dao so maybe bring that back
my fav quest in dao is the landsmeet / orzammar succession crisis questline but you know whats my second favourite? the rescue mission if the warden gets captured and you have to play as your party members. give me that again
more creepy/dark shit. dai was too lighthearted for me esp after da2 and dao
let me shittalk the chantry
broodmothers. in hd.
red lyrium broodmothers. in hd
companions with different backgrounds. different faiths. different statuses. different families. etc
maybe make the pcs appearance make an impact on the story? like how bull says he likes redheads, but even if you are a redhead, he says nothing about it????? maybe keep track of which slider the player picks so that can affect the story?
i love my inquisitors but maybe. dont. bring the inquisitor in as anything more than an advisor/npc in this game? let me fall in love with a new pc???
if theres gonna be a homebase like skyhold where youre not in armor. maybe give us better clothing?
a kind of gear skin mechanic similar to ac:odyssey where you can change how the gear looks but keep the stats. so you can equip that higher level armour and keep the look and aesthetic of your old armour and you unlock the skins/looks of the armours you discover/make so you can be both powerful AND aesthetic
i enjoyed the nobility/underworld/arcane/etc knowledge in dai unlocking more dialogue options so maybe keep/expand on that but make it more accessible by side missions or companions or something that isnt the abysmal perk system in dai
let me shittalk the chantry
customisable walking animations. does the pc walk straightbacked? slouched? with a swagger? please
since there will undoubtedly be an obligatory fade sequence, maybe have an option for nightmare demons that ARENT spiders. thank you
slap on subtitles and conlang some languages. i want to hear elvish. i want to hear tevene. give me the languages
more dragons. esp if they look vastly different
more bard songs
i am completely biased here, but i would like to hear laura bailey as a va for a character. preferably a voice option for the pc
hey maybe have the true ending actually included in the base game and not in a dlc (tresppasser cough cough)
better val royeaux
please remove the had to do it to em idle animation tis distracting
on that note, more idle animations. maybe some unique to companions?
very trivial but. unique stair climbing/descending animation
bring back talking to companions on the road. maybe with some dialogue that can only be said on the road???
if banter is interrupted, make like rdr2 and pick up where the banter left off
more vallaslin designs please?
if theres another formal scene like dai maybe. give us. decent clothing. or better yet, decen clothing OPTIONS. i wanna decide how i look in a ball full of haughty orlesians
mage vs templar conflict resolved and addressed please. it is NOT resolved in dai. what we got was sequel bait and a slideshow. resolve it please
let me shittalk the chantry
a pro-mage anti-circle circle mage companion like anders
religious person who doesnt victim-blame elves in the codex or in game or anywhere please
characters more like leliana who question the chantry and acknowledge its corruption and greed
unapologetically sapphic companion
idc if its tevinter i dont want to fucking see queer people being disrespected
a true tal-vashoth companion, one who escaped from the qun
have quest decisions affect whether or not a companion will turn hostile to you or not
if IF solas will be redeemed, please do the redemption arc right
more horn options for qunari
an apostate mage who doesnt use me for their personal agenda whilst hiding something from me (morrigan, anders, solas) thanks
i really dig the whole “leader of an army” thing dai was trying to go for. but you didnt actually. lead. anything. would be nice to have that option. command soldiers. send them places that affect further quests. would even use the wartable for its intended purpose. planning wars. battles. like. you get sent word that there are bandits harassing villagers. you can set up an ambush with your soldiers or confront them headon, and theres a new mini-location on the map like the manor you meet vivienne in where you can go deal with the bandits and depending on your choices, there are actually soldiers with you in a field, or traps in a narrow pass, or even in a city. id rather the wartable shit dont return but if they have to, at least this way youre not just waiting real life time for a bunch of text to appear
i am real fucking excited for the possibility that da4 companions can just fucking die on you. good shit. give me that angst
missions that certain companions would refuse to go with you to. you know. so you actually have to use other members of your party instead of the same 3 (three) people all the goddamn time
disabled characters (i want a character who suffers from the same chronic bad leg disease as i do is that too much to ask)
kinda touched on by the da2 combat point but let me do close combat damage with the staff
no multiplayer. and if there is a multiplayer, dont tie it with achievements
let me fucking explore weisshaupt
(i dont think solas will be the endgame villain of da and i dont think da4 will be the last da game but still) again. for emphasis. resolve the plot points dai brought up
full-body scars and tattoo options
companions and npcs changing their opinions about things over time. eg: a pro-circle mage wanting instead for circles to be abolished after a specific side mission or a main quest decision etc
keep the multiple companion quests. and maybe change what kinds of companion quests are available further down depending on choices made in previous companion quests
please for fucks sake give us more characters of colour
let me shittalk the chantry
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normiewrites · 4 years
Text
hello all this is for the @heroheads​ server collab on the bnharem server. it was fun to write eventho i had to rewrite it cause my first draft seemed like keigo was drunk instead. also ive never gotten high, just know ppl who have, so it might be shitty lmao.
collab masterlist
Warning(s): drug use, weed, lots of flying, heights, near death experiences
4:20am - Keigo Tamaki x (g/n)Reader
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“Keigo, you’re too high for this” you giggled as you wrapped your arms around his back, resting your chin on his hard chest as you looked up at him.
You didn’t mind how the cool wind of the breezy night cut through your clothes or how you both were standing on the edge of a tall building, because you felt warm and safe in the embrace of your bird boyfriend. Besides, the view of the city was the best to get high to.
“Come on, y/n, it’ll be so fun” he said, his arms hugging your body close to his as his fingers circle the skin on your hips underneath the hoodie you stole from him.
You chuckled at how red his eyes were, noticing how the strain wasn’t strong enough for you but definitely did him good. After all, it was his first time getting high, so you weren’t surprised.
“What’s better than being high while being high?” he asked, small giggles erupting from both of your mouths at the pun as he planted soft kisses on your cheeks, his scruffy chin slightly scratching you.
“We already are pretty high though” you said, peering over his arm as you looked down into the inviting chasm and continued, “plus I can just give you a stronger strain to hit.”
More giggles left his mouth at your joke, making him buckle over and rest his chin on your shoulder, his grip on you even tighter. You both basked in the rather loud silence of the wind passing past both of you, his warm hands rubbing your goose-bump ridden skin as yours softly massaged the base of his wings, giggling at how they shook themselves when you hit a good spot.
Suddenly, you felt the hard force of gravity resist against you as your feet were now dangling, the safety of the roof no longer underneath you as the towers around you became smaller and smaller, the cold wind bringing painful tears to your eyes.
“Keigo!” you yelled, hugging his body tighter as you wrapped your legs around his waist, scowling at you.
He chuckled at you, the flap of his wings overpowering the sounds of the breeze as he looked down at you, flying just in place. He planted even more kisses all over your face, letting you calm down and realise how much you love flying with him.
You peered around the both of you, breathing heavy and cold breaths as you saw the different hues of blue blend into the horizon and you could see a few stars if you squinted hard enough.
“Can we go lower? It’s too cold up here, plus, it’ll be so cool if you do that thing where you fly so fast between the buildings” you asked, closing your eyes as he put the spare goggles that he kept in his jacket on your face, smiling at how the yellow complimented your skin and e/c eyes.
“Aren’t I too high for that?” he smirked, not waiting for an answer before he stopped flapping his wings, both of you falling as the wind ruffled your clothes.
He always did this, trying his best to scare you as you both nearly plummet to your deaths before he starts flying between the buildings.
You watched both of your reflections in the windows of the buildings, giggling at how weird your hair looked flying up like that, and as if on que, he starts spiralling you both, flying close to the empty streets of the city.
Excited howls and screams left your mouth as you both weaved through the buildings, Keigo’s laugh bubbling in his chest as he marvelled at how cool flying was in his high state. Everything seemed just so fictional to him, like this was real life for him, he could fucking fly.
After you both cruised around for a while, he landed the both of you on the same building ledge that you started on, trying your best to steady your wobbly legs.
“Y/n, I’ve been thinking, what if this isn’t real?” he asked, pushing your hair behind your ear as you giggled at his theories.
“Go on, baby.”
“What if this is just some stimulation? That people are given quirks as an experiment to see how human society would evolve with superpowers and genetic modification. What if, what if the only way to escape is to die?” he asked, and you now noticed the tight hold he still had on you, as if preparing to fly again.
Worry started to settle in your body, maybe you gave him too much to smoke for his first time, plus he’s a pretty daring person.
“Keigo, you’re funny, you got too high” you nervously chuckled, trying to loosen his hold around your body.
“Y/n, do you trust me?” he asked and ignored your statement, his breath unsteady against your skin as he nuzzled his face in your neck.
You nodded softly, still unnerved by his odd behaviour, “Keigo, what are you doing?”
“Escaping.”
You felt gravity work against you for the nth time that night as you both were now diving down, headfirst.
“Keigo! Stop! You’re high and delusional!” you screamed, trying your best to punch his arms, plucking a few feathers from his limp wings to get him out of his daze.
The street kept getting closer and closer and your boyfriend, quieter and quieter. You could feel your heart in your mouth as you found it hard to deal with the realisation of your impending death. Nothing you did could change his mind, so as the dark gravel neared your face, you closed your eyes, tucking your face into his chest, holding onto him for some sort of miracle.
“Keigo, please” you cried softly into his chest, wishing this all was actually dream. You had realised that you could still talk while you were supposed to be dead, prompting you to peep open an eye.
You let your breath go as the view of Keigo’s smirk entered your field of vision, his smug face enlightening with the fact that nothing at all had happened to you, and you both were standing once again on the same rooftop.
Relief flooded your body as you hugged him, small and cold tears latching onto his body suit as you surprised him. He was thankful for that fact that you didn’t kick him in the balls from his prank, but he was now concerned with how much it affected you.
Before he could hug you tightly and apologize, you broke free from his grasp, punching him near his groin as you yelled at his buckled over form, “You fucking cunt! I thought we were gonna fucking die, you piece of shit! God, I hate you, you stupid pesky, good for nothing bird, you’d be better fried than a boyfriend!”
You didn’t care who you woke up as you crossed your arms and walked grumpily to the other side of the roof, sitting down on the edge with your back to him. You were scowling so hard, that he thought if he didn’t change your expression somehow, you would be stuck with that face forever.
He chuckled once he recovered, flying over to your position as he dragged you onto his lap, his vibrant reg wings surrounding the both of you as his arms wrapped themselves around your body.
“I’m sorry, dove, I just had to, it was all so worth it” he sighed happily as he kissed your forehead, “plus I saved us in the end.”
“You made us fall in the first place, you peabrain” you mumbled, playing with the tips of the feathers closest to your face, the moon making you both each other’s spotlight in the little cocoon.
“But nothing happened, plus I wouldn’t harm you, I love you too much” he whispered, planting a soft kiss against your shoulder.
Your body relaxed at those words, leaning against his as you replied, “I love you too” before giggling with him about the whole experience.
The both of you shared countless whispers and conspiracy theories for the rest of the night, your laughter and love trapped within those wings that protected you, just like how he had your heart in his hands. You didn’t mind it though, because he kept it pumping.
Bonus:
“Keigo”
“Hmm?”
“What if we actually died and had to start the whole stimulation again, and the memory of you saving us is just an illusion?”
“Bruh.”
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mikaa-mina · 4 years
Text
At Garden’s Edge- ch8: A Day in the Life of a Newt(on Pulsifer)
The lights are too bright, and Newt can’t quite hear what the lady in front of him is saying over the cacophony of beeps. His head also feels quite.... strange. He’s pretty sure that it’s not supposed to feel like it’s floating half a foot above his neck while also feeling like it’s stuffed full of cotton.
Some of the beeping suddenly stops, making it so much quieter in the ER, and Newt can finally understand what the nurse is asking. He tells her he thinks he’s fine, only he managed to hit something in the middle of the road with his bike and that sent him sailing towards the curb, which his bike tire hit at the wrong angle, and that quite firmly ejected him from his seat. And actually, he’s not at all quite sure how he got here, or why he’s here.
The nurse comes closer before he realizes she’s holding a tablet to enter his information in. By the time he realizes, it’s too late.
There’s a sound much like a mosquito hitting a trap lamp with a bright Bzzt! and then tablet goes dark in her hands. Newt grimaces.
It snowballs from there.
She shushes his apologies and uses the flip hospital phone that they use now instead of chargers/beepers to call the nurse station and request a backup one. It, accordingly, powers off halfway through her phone call. She shakes it with a frown and grumbles about the board of offices being cheap with their equipment, turns a sunny smile on him, and brightly says “well, I’ll just take down the basics and get your vitals while we wait. Do you have records here?”
“Uh. Maybe?” probably, “Which hospital is this?”
“The Brugmansia Hospital.”
“Oh! Yeah. I was born here. Uh. I changed my name though. Still Pulsifer for the last name though, figure there’s probably not too many of them around,” he laughs nervously, overly conscious of how awkward he is and how unable he is to do anything about it.
She still smiles, ever professional, and jots down his information. “First name?”
“Oh! Right. Sorry. It’s Newton now. Newton Pulsifer.”
“Thank you Newton, now I’m just going to take your vitals now.”
“Oh- I, uh, don’t really think-”
It’s too late, she’s come up to take his temperature with their new wireless, laser thermometer and it promptly errors out. It continues to error out no matter how many times she restarts it. The heavy seed of dread in Newt’s stomach grows larger. This is exactly why he tries not to go to places like this.
“I’m sorry. Uh, do you happen to have something maybe not, uh, electrical?”
She gives him a funny look for that and he shrinks back.
“Well. Let me get your blood pressure and o2 readings.”
Newt looks dubiously at the machine setup she wheels over to him. Miraculously, it goes okay when she wraps the cuff around his upper arm, and even when it starts. Everything avalanches when she puts the wireless o2 reader on him. Immediately everything in his room fritzes out, the lights even flickering before coming back, but all of the machines are still down or in the emergency boot up system restart.
“Oh bugger,” he sighs under his breath, quietly enough that the nurse fretting over all the technology can’t hear how resigned and unsurprised he is.
The avalanche continues when a nearby nurse ducks in and his tablet powers itself off. The smartwatch he’s wearing starts having three different alarms go off on it, and then there’s some shouts of alarm from outside Newt’s room that he’s really not sure that he wants to know what they’re about.
There are four people in his room now, in varying states of bewilderment and frustration, trying to figure out why everything’s malfunctioning in his room while also trying to get it back up and working. No one’s listening to Newt when he tries to explain that if he could just leave, it’d get better, but then, he’s mostly used to being ignored at this point.
More and more people trickle into the room, Newt spots the tech support guy he wished to be, frowning and scratching his head as he looks at everything. And then he looks at Newt.
A quick mumble about using the loo and Newt escapes out of the room, IV still attached to the weird metal stand and his arm but at least they’re not electronically powered. Just good engineering and reliable gravity.
He figures if he can put enough distance between him, and the rest of all that technology crammed into one small spot, that everything will boot back up just fine. And if not, Newt could write out exactly how to fix it.
So he heads to the loo, because now that he’s made the excuse, he figures he might as well try and also he’s betting on there being a whole lot less fancy technology in there. If only he could actually find said loo. Or any loo, really.
He’s waylaid by a small girl about ten minutes into his wandering of the halls.
“Oh. Hullo there.”
The girl is missing three teeth, has brown hair, and is looking at Newt as if he’s the newest attraction in the city zoo. Under her stare, Newt almost feels like one.
“Wut’er you doing?”
“Er... looking for the loo.”
She looks at him, looks in the direction he was heading in, looks back at him and matter-of-fact-ly says, “you’re going the wrong way.”
He blinks at her, which she takes as permission for her to reach up and grab his hand and start pulling him in the other direction. Bewildered, he followed.
And thus began a brand new game called “Lead the Newt” which had a revolving cast of characters, all under the age of twelve, each insisting they knew where the loo was, and each hiding him from sight any time an adult employee came near.
This scavenger hunt of a game ended at, not a loo (which made Newt extremely grateful he didn’t actually need one), but at a recreational sort of room. There was an old tv in one corner, an open treasure chest filled with costumes and toys, and a few bookshelves. The floor was spongy beneath Newt’s feat and looking down left him staring at brightly colored interlocking foam mat puzzle pieces.
For some reason, all of the co-conspirators find him funny, and really the only tech he might fry in here is a rather old tv that looks like it’s been outdated so many times it can’t recall if it’s outdated or retro at this point, so all in all... This is probably the safest room for Newt to be in. And certainly more interesting than the loo.
And that’s how he finds himself, an hour later, dressed in a paper hat of some kind (its supposed to be a jester’s hat) leaning against his iv pole, making elaborate gestures with his free hand, and telling terrible terrible jokes to a kid in a paper crown and to the amusement of the other kids around him. It’s most certainly a bizarre scene, but no one has commented on it as of yet and due entirely for the fact that the secondary game they’re all playing is ‘Hide the Newt’ any time an adult wanders by. Closets, corners, and blankets have all been heavily featured by now in this game.
So Newt can hardly be blamed for jumping near out of his skin when, after telling a particularly bad punny joke, he hears an adult’s laughter. So he jumps, jerks, and tries to turn to face the voice all in one motion and ends up somehow practically hogtieing himself in his iv cord and going down.
He ended up in a heap of limbs, metal pole, and iv cord wrapped all around him, and his glasses hanging half off his face. “Oh bugger...”
There was a snickering above him from the adult voice and the children alternating between giggles at his fall and joyful cries of “Crow Crow!”, “Mister Crow!”, and “Miss Crow!”. As Newt struggled to untangle himself, with the help of a few kids who both made things worse and better in turns, the other children began pleading with the Crow? Crow?? to pleeeeease let them keep Newt.
The stranger is crouching down to the kid’s level by the time Newt gets mostly upright, and they look a lot like they’re trying very hard not to laugh. “Now. However did you magpies manage to steal a whole person?”
Laughter sounds and they’re throwing themselves at the redhead and the two bags they set down. As the majority are immediately distracted by the prospect of sweets and the passing out of them, the stranger turns to Newt and raises an eyebrow high above dark sunglasses and says, “well? How’d they manage to kidnap you?”
Before Newt can respond the kids answer with excuses that pile over one another ranging from “he just wandered in!” to the actually mostly truthful “he was lost so we were showing him around!”.
“Oh really now?” they seem to be biting back laughter as they continue, “he was lost so you decided to help him by keeping him here?”
Some of the kids looked abashed while others look outright proud of themselves and to Newt’s surprise the stranger threw back their head with a short bark of a laugh before grinning as if proud of them.
Just in case he was reading the situation wrong, he’d done that with people more than a few times, Newt tried pushing through his embarrassment and awkwardness with an “It’s, uh, alright. Really. It’s been kind of fun, actually.”
“Ah. Yeah, they really grow on you.” The Crow glanced at the kids with a mischievous look, “like a fungus.”
Groans and laughter sounded before all of a sudden a shushing and pointing as an adult was seen wandering their way. Before Newt could blink they had him hidden out of sight shoved in a closet between some coats, puppets, and something slightly sticky that he had no intention of exploring further.
He could hear the somewhat muffled conversation of the kids pleading with The Crow to keep their secret before a new adult voice joined the conversation. The voices dropped away a bit, except for the nervous kids right in front of the closet attempting to whisper between each other, before he can’t make anything out at all. He waits, nervousness beginning to creep in because just how long was he supposed to stay in the closet? Actually, about that, he’d really had enough of closets and hiding in them. Terribly stifling and awful and much better really to be out of them.
Eventually there’s the sound of foot falls coming closer and closer to the closet and for a moment Newt’s heart picks up, certain that he’s about to be found and get in trouble. Then the doors are opened and it’s the red headed stranger who jokes, “ready to come out of the closet?”
And Newt’s still full of nervousness and it expresses itself by making him immediately blurt out “already did that once really. Was sort of hoping to not have to do it again.”
There’s a pause where the red head stares at him and the realization that he’s said that out loud crashes over Newt who flushes hotly. “Oh gods, I said that out loud...” and then The Crow tilts their head back and laughs.
“Been there, done that!” They agree with a grin and reach in to pull Newt out. “C’mon, ‘parently they’ve been running a missing patient code for half an hour looking for you.”
Newt relaxed fractionally, “you figured all that out from the nurse in five minutes?”
“Nah. Heard about it when I snuck in through one of the back windows. ‘s right beside one of the break rooms.”
“Oh, okay, that makes- wait. Did you say window?”
But they were already talking to the kids, “Alright you mischievous little magpies, you had your fun but we need to get him back now.” A chorus of “awwwws” and “but!!but!!”s sounded off but The Crow continued on, “if he’s here, he probably needs some help to get better, and I’m sure once he’s feeling better he’ll come say hi again.” Here they glanced over at at Newt expectantly, so Newt nodded since it seemed expected, and then they continued, “alright, so say bye to...”
“Newt.”
The Crow stilled, tilted their head to the side and asked disbelievingly, “really?” as if they didn’t also have the name of an animal.
“Yeah.”
“Alright magpies, tell Newt bye.”
There’s goodbyes and promises to come back and right as they’re leaving the first girl that had caught Newt comes up to The Crow and, in a whisper so very loud she might as well be talking, says “you hafta be nice to him!”
“Oh do I now?”
She nodded furiously, “he doesn’t ree-lize his jokes are reeeeally bad!”
The Crow seemed to choke on something before spluttering into a laughter the kid shushed them for.
“Sorry, sorry,” they managed, fighting back their grin and not looking sorry in the least as they chanced a quick glance at Newt.
The girl frowned, “you’re not sorry at all!”
“I am, I am!”
She looked unimpressed but when bribed with an extra pastry she let it, and them, go.
They’re on their way back to the nurse’s station (Newt didn’t even know what room they put him in) when he breaks the silence to ask, “is your name really Crow?”
��To the kids, yes. You can call me Crowley.”
“Oh. Nice to meet you Crowley. Did you really come in through a window?”
Crowley grinned at him, “trade secret.”
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macgyvertape · 4 years
Text
50 or so hours into Cyberpunk 2077
This should be roughly the correct amount of time, ive been leaving the game running as I get up to get food or do stretches. Quests are roughly in order I did them
non spoilers above cut:
 i haven't found a single hat/helmet i like, and since you can't hide them I just am not wearing any. It matters that much.
I posted the other day about bugs, every few hours I play I find new bugs. some require me to go back and reload a save others I honestly can’t tell if it’s a bug or just really poor development
there are several perks that don’t quite do what the description says, like the Anamesis perk. Based on reddit and trying it out it seems to just not do anything.
sometimes in car chase segments the passenger will say “look out” as cars spawn in my path and hit me. Can’t tell if that was deliberate or a pop in issue
Yeah I’ve just totally given up on doing pacifist things unless required by a mission. Given up on doing stealth too unless a mission objective, except for sneaking around to set up a fight.
:readmore:
the delemain car quest is fun. From the shock of the one going "beep beep motherfucker" and doing a hit and run to start it off, to the GLADOS car i see a lot of people talking about. It was fun to explore the city when i might have missed places like the landfill apparently there is follow up on T-bug's death if you go back to the quick hack shop in Kabuki. It's not much but better than nothing I made the pass with Panam of "what if the room just had one bed". I know she won't do a wlw romance, which is fine since I wouldn’t have chosen her.  I enjoy her as a character, don’t get me wrong, my V considers her as a friend, but it seems like theres always drama going on which would be tiring. I would have gone for a fling, i like her leotard-pants combo with all the straps
but also her questline was buggy as hell. Multiple cases of having to reload due to clipping into objects, including her in a driving section, or just insta-dying when collision physics with some rocks broke "your neural network can no longer function independantly of the chip" me slapping my desk: s y m b i o te!!! come on lets have some s y m b i o s i s
in the scene with hellman i really liked how Johnny moved around the room. It made him feel like he was really there. it was hard to follow the convo as I left the room, i would not have understood it without subtitles. But i guess Takemura fucking waterboarded hellman. :|
lol I hope the dialogue is different b/c i refuse to smoke for Johnny
i am level 18 and still can't beat the first opponents in the fist fighting quest. ffs
I looked up the romances options so I went to do the I fought the law quest as soon as i got it. ACAB, but like I literally just met River Ward 2 minutes ago, and I really like him. His earring and cyborg eye, his big fluffy coat. I'm definitely gonna sleep with him Ok i like how when River Ward is dealing with the tiger claws if you interject it leads to a fight. It goes better if you follow his instructions and let him deal with it. Seriously I enjoy that sometimes its good to not pick a dialogue choice.
during the red queen club part, there was no dialogue over the phone. So i reloaded a save and got myself spotted and attacked. Then River showed up to help me <3 and it was more enjoyable having him there. I honestly am not sure if him not going to the club level is bug or not.
then uuuuuugh the worst of irl police "cops are my family" from Detective Han. Again ACAB "FRATERNITY OF CITY COPS RESEMBLES A [Nomad] CLAN NOT AT ALL" ok a few minutes ago i was complaining about bugs, but the character modeling in this game is good (when they're there). You can see body posture, characters jiggle their legs when they are nervous. Like I though character A was just throwing a cigarette on the ground, but then character B flinches back; I realize Char A threw it at B as a fuck you
I'm honestly curious if "I fought the Law" quest will have any impact later on. My choices were that I thought there was more going on than Holt being the only person behind this (based on how complicated the main questline heist is, and keeping an eye on some of the in game news), and told him not to take it to internal affairs, and I loved his response of how he doesn't give a shit what we think, he's doing it anyway.
In the elevator to report in, Johnny said "this muck is deeper than you think, tell them nothing", so i just said that the case was complicated. anyway i love how much of a sarcastic asshole V is
I thought i was being nonlethal with the monk quest, but it seems i accidently killed someone. RIP, but thats kind of the problem with this game. Like when i do the non lethal cyberpychosis quests I equip my non lethal modded gun and hope for the est. I like how a go here kill things quest led to Charles the ripperdoc. He's getting all his parts from scav gang members so I felt obligated to take him out. I got a police bounty for it but w/e.
I merged the Delemain fragments with the whole. Guess he's the meta now. (Side note: some of my favorite rvb fanfic plots are Ai consiousness/memory merging with the humans, so I’m having fun with this game and look foward to introspective fanfic)
Honestly Jonny made some good points, the fragments didn't deserve to die; but also destroying the core and freeing the fragments, they couldn't really function alone.
I was able to rescue Saul fine with stealth. Using cameras and the synapse overload really made it easy.  Can't use the sniper rifle reward b/c I don't have the stats for it, and while it has a silencer the fact that it's a ricochette weapon and not a shoot through walls weapons, makes it not as good imo; and theres a legendary one that is stats free for only 100k.
Lol made a pass again at Panam, and she immediately shut me down. I then did Mitch's quest and I love every time someone tells V they area  good person.
I hacked the operation carpe noctem shard, and wow the corporations are using ai to make people have cyberpsychosis, or something like that. What a shocker /s, I've played Deus Ex HR before
lol driving through the unifinished interstate, past the fight from Panam's first quest I found a "batcave" with a very nice car, and a manifesto written by "muckman'. But here's my complaint about the loot, there is a legendary top, but it had 16 armor. My current top has 84 armor, like why would i switch?? then later i found a bunker with soviet spies in it. Wild
Doing River's second quest, love the timing of as soon as you ask, why are we breaking in, someone shows up to tell you he got kicked off the force. It's funny how Johnny comments how maybe River's into you, and V just doubts Johnny's words. Love how the first kid asks River if I'm his girlfriend. also wow like oof both the second parts of Judy and River's quest are SUPER fucked UP!! oof like i stopped doing first person mode on the braindances for those quests as soon as i could, just made me too uncomfortable seeing that in first person.
DRIVING IN THE GAME IS BAD! nowhere is it more apparent than the sinnerman quest, which took me 3 times to get the driving section done, as cars spawned out of nowhere to hit me. Then when you restart, there is a bunch of dialogue it doesn't let you fast forward through. The rest of the Sinnerman questline is interesting. My V took every option to tell the dude that he was messed up, and what he was doing was wrong. idk, I was surprised how much dialogue there was that let you buy into his whole "forgiveness thing" and how there wasn't any real dialogue to call him the fuck out, that in seeking forgiveness he continues to do harm both emotional to the mother of the man he killed, but also that he got the husband killed via cop. The later follow up quest, I told him that what he is doing is crazy, studio is just going to profit off this vid. Then I refused to join him prayer, and told him fuck no i wasn't going to hammer him to the cross, or even watch. Yes, the man is scared of dying, and the corporation is exploiting him, but he keeps creating burdens for others.  I think the discussion on this quest will be interesting to read, it's definitely my own personal experience with religion coloring my view. Anyway back to a main quest, yeah i don't trust Placide, especially in that scene where he grabs my hand, then jacks in. I ran off to do most of the sidequests here and got some criticism from him. I do love how in the cinema the western movie switches to a mission brief as the netwatch agent talks. its a fun enviromental detail.  I took the netwatch offer, i don't think he's being fully honest with me, but he didn't put a virus in my head. As I told Placide later, I didn't pick a side. I like how you can then talk with the agent, who is a fan of Western movies, b/c they show "a simpler time where all good guys carry badges" :eyeroll:, and then V recommends Unforgiven, which from the wiki summary goes against that theme.
Looks like the Voodoo boys all got killed by Netwatch, but I as revenge for them trying to set me up I'm fine with it. Honestly after speaking with ai!Alt I don’t believe their plan of trying to be on good relations with AI would work. 
doing the johnny flashback 2, and wow Johnny really is an asshole. Like I had gotten so used to him in side missions I forgot how self centered and unlikable he was.You constantly get prompts to drink or do drugs, which I ignored. But i do love the goth/punk love Rogue and others have.
lol i called it, when Hellman said that the engram would seek to override the host, put V on the engram. I really like how as the relic malfunctions, you wind up in the chair with a cigarette, which you can either smoke and say you are turning into Johnny or throw away. My dialogue "your problem is the ends justify the means", which is true!!! He and Rogue detonated a nuke downtown, does anyone know that, and like ask Rogue about it????
(Funny you can ask Rouge about Johnny silverhand, over the phone, then the game bugs out and spawns her npc where you are. She doens't say much about the nuke, but she does say no one trusts you for jobs). The line of no one trusting you for jobs is pretty funny at level 46 street cred where im at “respected” status. really loving the family atmosphere at River's 3rd quest. Also his big strong arms, and the fact he is no longer a cop. I totally let the kids win, and wow the family dinner where they GRILL YOU over the relationship and try to set the two of you up, then the water tower scene!!!!! I don't love the first person sex cutscenes but they do have personality. I'm glad afterwards you got to tell River about the biochip and that you might die. Because he's so far removed from your personal plot. So I took that option to back out of a relationship.
I do love that you wake up with "river's tanktop" that says "fuck the police" It actually has extremely good armor stats, so thats what I'll wear now.
panam 3rd quest, when shes like why did you help me, I'm like "because it's important to you". Basically the closest you can get to "when a friend asks for help you help them", which as an ex-nomad backstory I really choose the nomad options when ever i can Paralezes quest part 2! I love the piano song but I always think of it as ocean's 11 music. It's also fun to see the computer and see Judy recommended you for the first quest. The emails talk about "forgetting" to hire a staffer, on the balocony a strange antennia was scannable, the color of the roses was remembered wrong...  lol guess i was right with those giant wall screens. Its fun environmental details that spell things out before you can notice, and it ties into some other quests where people's behavior is being altered. Actually, this quest "Dream On" I love it! For a while I've been like "wheres the illuminati conspiracy! Here it IS! I chose to follow Elisabeth's wishes and not tell her husband he was being brainwashed. In best case they program him to forget again, in worst case he ends up dead. The gaslighting Elisabeth described is CHILLING, her husband describes a vacation she can't remember and she doesn't know whose memories have been messed with. On your way to the plaza you get a call from someone/something that says the know exactly WHAT you are, any you black out!!! It's such a great feeling of helplessness that you're just one person in a world so big that you can't fight every power. As Johnny said, could be a corporation, could be a rogue ai, either way Jefferson is fucked (and so are you).
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druid-for-hire · 5 years
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UNSWAYED PT. IV
(pt. i) (pt. ii) (pt. iii) (pt. v) (epilogue) (askblog)
this update consists of a bit of the trek back to hadestown and the workers’ revolution that lasts the summer until persephone’s return in the fall, and being granted the chance to leave at last--to leave for real.
thank you so so much to all my friends @supercantaloupe​, @unholy-boi​ (who helped write the Riots sect), @damondaunnodyke​, & @s-aint-elmo
persephone has left again and sets to repairing the world up Top after the hurricane, now that she’s helped the lovers.
orpheus and eurydice are... on the exodus from the Beyond. it’s a long road--it’s a long walk. takes a week or two.
kampê slinks into the shadows and hides, bitter, among the smokestacks. she hurts and she fears. hades will come for her, she knows, but she knows this place far better than he--that man barely checks up (hence how her grip on the place has gotten out of control), hasn’t been there for all of the rearrangements and updates in centuries. she knows where to hide. he will not find her in her domain. this is her darkness.
the imagery of the Exodus is very much akin to/inspired by the same Exodus of the movie Prince of Egypt. u kno that one?
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looks like this, yeah, but like... obviously without the fish, because the walls aren’t made of ocean in this au, they’re just rock
and orpheus and eurydice leading the pack, shadowed looks of determination on their faces
again: this is where Promises (But Sadder) happens
as eurydice takes orpheus back to the main parts of hadestown, she notices too many things: his legs tremble, his hands shake, he breathes just barely too hard and clears his throat and coughs too much; and as they talk about the small things to fill some of the quiet, orpheus asks “what’d you say?” too often
(it’s hearing damage babey!)
of course, no one is spared from the hardships of hadestown. but she... does not like seeing those scars on orpheus
this long walk is also the time they tell each other everything that happened to them since they last saw each other
reminder: orpheus is still weak & kinda sick! and it’s a long walking journey. and everyone’s tired. sometimes they all sit down and camp for the “night” or something. 
the beyond’s not been kind to him; he’s pale as a corpse, with sunken eyes and hollow cheeks, looks as dead as he feels
(really, all the other workers from the Beyond don’t look much better)
it’s kind of a spooky sight when they stop for a few hours and he lays down to take a rest. the state he’s in...
and eurydice is a fairly good singer--nowhere near on orpheus’ (former) level, but good, and she probably sings him small tunes here and there just for the two of them, to relax and comfort and what have you
@axolotlbeans: at some point they stop for the “night” and orpheus collapses; eurydice, who’d been singing, gathers him in her arms and says, "Orpheus, you're shivering; is it cold or fear?"
and he interrupts her, burying his face into her neck and softly rasps "Just keep singing" in the smallest, weakest voice 
when they arrive. it is... a lot.
the long train of people is... heavily distracting. and they seem to come out of nowhere--a lot of hadestown wasn’t even aware there was a Beyond ‘till orpheus got banished, and then they didn’t know the name or what it was, just that he got banished somewhere. even the foremen turn to see; everyone’s sort of like. uh. what the hell is going on? and work sort of stalls out a little bit
eurydice and orpheus go straight to hades and present their demands to let them go. let them all go. blah blah blah some other stuff it probably sounds fairer than that, i don’t have the brain energy to outline all their demands specifically
by the slightly edited words of my good friend supercanteloupe:
let us go, eurydice demands, and hades just laughs, jailbirds like themselves don’t get their freedom so easily. get back to work, songbird, and don’t let the foreman know you’ve been slacking. and all of the rest of you... you’d better return before you’re made to return.
they go, but they’re not done, not by a long shot.
they don’t go back to work.
orpheus cannot sing, but he is still a poet, and the workers have their voices too
the bristling unrest of Hadestown begins to develop into protests, and the protests turn into riots.
orpheus can craft all the words eurydice needs to say with her spirited and powerful voice, to hit every point to cause uprisings and to stab every point to whittle hades down
hades notices things are beginning to go wrong. machine malfunctions, damaged, outright broken; strikes, sit-ins. rolling blackouts. eurydice and orpheus come back and back, with more and more workers, the ones they led out from the beyond and the ones from the factories and mines, always to demand: let us go. 
and hades grows only more calloused and bitter. you failed your test, you don't get second chances. Players who break the rules are banned from play. 
and every time they turn back, back to their increased workloads and their stricter overseers and their hope now stretching thin, and their anger growing more
ok back to me writing: but enough pushing, and even the overseers are beginning to turn.
the furies, infamous guardswomen and union busters, are doing their best to do damage control. and they are fierce. they are vicious, nearly (but not quite) as bad as kampê, and there are three of them--but then there are only three of them, and they cannot possibly control every single instance of revolt when the ball gets rolling
eurydice and orpheus are now the leaders of rebellion, and both of them are marked for banishment. they have to run from god-king hades and stay out of the unrelenting sights of the Furies.
(and this also means they can’t work or the foremen still on hades’ side might turn em in. so they catch a break and a nap, finally, jesus christ)
but.
there is trouble (For hades) in the fact that kampê has practically gone missing. no matter how many are sent to the Beyond, now there is no one to stop them from just... making the trip back. sure. it takes a long time. about a week or so of walking, but they just... come back.
hades takes notice. hades visits the Beyond for the first time in so long and tries to find her, to no avail. the Beyond is far changed than when he last saw it and he does not have the time to spend to find her--he cannot step away from his children for more than a few hours, lest something go wrong again. this is just another inconvenience on his long, long list.
@lookoutitsregan: “they're legally allowed to leave after 15 minutes”
orpheus and eurydice will be dealt with by himself, and so they run--avoid him as much as they can, hide under his radar
by the words of unholy-boi: hades will not let go of his empire so easily. the building pressure only makes him clench his fists tighter, bend his back further, push further to his own breaking point (and towards everyone else’s). 
he’s more likely to go down screaming that he isn’t, more likely to cling hard and furious to his city, push his workers into the dirt and further lose persephone in the process, the further this goes, the more against him, the more likely he is to furiously, dangerously fight back. 
as summer turns late, hadestown doesn’t soften like hades may have had it for persephone in years long since past, hadestown turns from city to warzone
ok back to me again
for the songbirds: there’s the riots and them narrowly escaping hades like all the damn time while he pushes everyone else to their limits
and yet they refuse to be pushed and usurp their foremen as fast as he reinstates things
revolutions usually have unifying symbols of a sort, and the many isolated revolts do eventually coalesce into this all being an outright revolution--a workers’ movement, if you will.
the red carnation. though they don’t have it, they all remember seeing in orpheus’ hand before he was banished--the one solid sliver of the aboveground anyone saw in a long time
@s-aint-elmo: the red carnation becomes their symbol--though they don’t have it, they paint it in hidden alleyways and abandoned factory walls. they have red paper flowers and red cloth tucked into pockets and tool belts
or the red of some banner that waves in the acrid smoke-wind of hadestown’s false air fronts
flowers, painted and made and substituted, are cropping up all over hadestown, and in increasingly more obvious spots. life is blooming in the underground for the first time in so long
OH ALSO, another fun layer of symbolism with the red cloths:
in the staging of actual hadestown, when orpheus sings "and they're gonna bend their branches down and lay their fruit upon the ground; the almond and the apple, the sugar and the maple" the ensemble is on the tables, reaching over eurydice like tree branches in a sort of ^ formation; on "almond" and "apple," the first two layers pull out and dangle white cloth, but on "sugar from the maple," the dude at the top dangles a red one and drops it into eurydice's hands
so there’s that!
also being the bounty of spring above...... rejecting the underworld. some shit like that
in a musical there’d definitely be a sort of revolution song
like uhhh... Why We Build the Wall II. it’s Different this time. it’s not about the circular logic of the wall, it’s about rebelling against the order hades has set for them
There’s so many lines that can be drawn from elsewhere in the musical to be inserted into this
Why do we build the wall, my brothers, my sisters?
He said the wall would bring us peace, the wall would keep out the enemy.
mister hades set us free to work ourselves into the ground. a lot of souls have gotta die to make the underworld go round.
why are we digging out own graves for a living, if we're free tell me why we can't even stand upright?
some sort of rebellion/callback against “who are you to think that you can hold your head up higher than your fellow man?”
i’m gonna count to three, and then i’ll raise my head, singin’, one, two--!
(except they probably finish the count in this one)
also, because i am weak for really great chords being belted out by a big chorus and hearing every voice part slot together, because this is a revolution song with lots of people i think it should have that
everybody 👏knows 👏the 👏walls 👏have 👏ears 👏
thank u supercanteloupe & s-aint-elmo for ur additions on this
the fates’ voices still carry on the wind, hadestown’s false air fronts of stale and acrid air, but orpheus and eurydice have since learned to turn their backs to it
ALSO? Flags
with the revolution coming to span A Really Big Chunk of hadestown, most likely more than half, there’d probably be people putting up flags and banners
i’m just like, inspired by the imagery of the flag raisings in wwii and post-9/11, and also i’m thinking of les mis/french revolution in general not gonna lie
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sure, the Furies are union-busters and come after any sign of revolution, but every revolution is a fight against something. there’s always blood spilled, what different is this one?
they can’t be everywhere at once and they’re not like the Fates--they get tired, they’re not omnipresent and omniscient, the people are not powerless
the flag is supposed to attract attention, the point is to be loud
and by god, they are screaming
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this is what a steel mill looks like at night. hadestown was sort of already in a hazy blaze, but combo this with a revolution in its midst, with fighting and fire, and... well, it’s a mess
and through all the flames are the carnations blooming, painted and carved on walls and smokestacks and pathways
(it’s very poetic)
(tumblr will kill this post if i link to the source directly, so. photo taken by DragonWolfACe @ deviantart)
hermes still ferries on the train, but the schedule is all out of whack thanks to the strikes and riots turning the systems upside down. he witnesses plenty of the mess that hadestown has fallen into, and the fight the songbirds are fighting
he relays as much news as he can to persephone
(thanks @damondaunnodyke​ for helping write this bit w/ seph)
persephone... worries
she already snuck underground to help them once and a hurricane ravaged the Top for her absence. the songbirds have escaped, and now have to fight this fight for themselves--she can’t go back down to help them, because she has to bring the summertime to the Top, and she refuses to be the cause of another storm
so she’s stuck aboveground. 
and she’s uhh. stressing. drinking. worrying.
everyone can tell there’s something off, but she doesn’t want to dwell on it, insisting that everyone else should just focus on the good times. let me tell ya something that my mama said to me...
she tries to not stress--there’s nothing she can do right now, why worry, you know? unless she wants to get more gray hairs than she’s already got
but during one of those celebrations she almost says “let the poet bless this round!” before catching herself, remembering that she’s... not there
a lot of people give her a glance; why’d she stop?
but she picks herself back up again, only a moment's falter, and just toasts to life and summer
the end of summer.
the revolution rages on. it’s not calmed down--the very opposite, in fact, more ferocious than ever
(and thanks unholy-boi for basically writing this bit for me HBGFHG)
persephone knows something is wrong when the train isn’t early--isn’t on time, but in fact late to pick her up. the summer has stretched on longer than it should, and in some ways, that is just as dangerous as the winter going on for too long
hades has been getting ready to bring her home. it takes browbeating and strongarming to get the trains running, far too late for his liking.
at last the train comes for her, and when it is hermes who offers his hand to bring her onboard, she knows that things in the underworld are bad--an inferno, dangerous if not dire, and she wonders if the songbirds are still alive, or if they’ve gone and the revolution still rages without them
hades aches for his wife, but he dares not step away from hadestown for a moment. he’s become obsessed and absolutely determined to quell, to crush this rebellion
hades is breaking, but refuses to bend, hades has refrains where he refuses to sing but slips into poetry and catches himself halfway through, hades is breaking, he puts in people he believes he can trust and they turn on him out of desperation, hades is running out of places to desperately hold and he is breaking. hadestown is oblivion. hades is wearing a crown that mangled his head.
persephone steps off of the train, and is taken aback by the state hadestown is in
 the people feel her breeze in, and it is some relief, but the can’t tell how this will change things. if it’ll make things worse, if it’ll make it better
people ask for her aid; but she’s too busy looking around, trying to find the songbirds (after getting confirmation that they’re still alive) who are still hiding
and she finds them. she sees orpheus and eurydice (orpheus, who hades so clearly saw himself in, and eurydice, who she sees herself in) still fighting, still in love.
she sees hades’ mercilessness to the boy he sees himself in. she sees eurydice’s unending determination (in contrast to her own grown apathy) 
and she’s reminded of times before. song or no song.
she decides that this cannot keep going, and hades will keep going farther and farther until he fucking self-destructs at the end of his fall and she wants to catch him before that happens
hades raises his fist against his people, persephone takes his hand and she starts singing. the old song. holding his hand. protecting the people. 
la, la la la, la la la 
and he realizes what he’s doing, as music swells, as the rest of hadestown, quietly, starts to join her in singing. as her warmth, her natural warmth, surrounds him, and he smells flowers and feels pollen and sunlight, and he--
well, the ice around his heart starts to crack, and the iron starts to melt
she catches him before he breaks
His Kiss, the Riot is... different
more emotionally charged, i think, because of the fight he’s been fighting for so long, so fiercely and ardently. he’s much more emotionally compromised, stressed and strung out and now everything’s been turned on his head
he can’t just let them go, but he can’t make them stay. he definitely cannot make them stay. and if the songbirds leave, they will take almost all of hadestown with them
it’s not like... Hellfire Notre Dame levels of dramatic. it’s still quiet, dark, and brooding, but hades is. more of a mess, really
but he comes to his conclusion all the same
that’s about all i got on this. i just wanted to make a note. i thought it was important
the task is given: they can walk, but eurydice must walk in front, and orpheus must follow behind. she must not turn behind to see if orpheus is following--if he has not collapsed, and she will not be able to hear if he has. if she turns, she may return above, but her lover will return to hadestown. 
it’s given to eurydice instead because while she might be harder to instill doubt in, she’s as much susceptible to loneliness as any other. she may have been alone for so long, but she is desperate to not be alone again. and orpheus is still weak--still sick, and she fears he might give out before they reach the top, as much as he assures her he’ll be fine
and if they fail, well, they keep the poet, who was damned to hell anyway--a sentence is stronger than a contract
(Also, this is now Wait For Me III (the first being Orpheus on the way to Hadestown; second being Eurydice trying to find Orpheus; this is the third) and it is HUGE and GRAND, as the climax of the revolution. just as big, if not bigger than the bway version’s
(tho as per usual it’s tinged with sadness because of the circumstances, and the fact that, if this were staged, orpheus would be the only one not singing)
and then... doubt comes in
eurydice walks the path to the surface
hermes' warnings echo in her head, all the same he gave to orpheus in the normal timeline
it's cold
the fates badger her and bleed into her thoughts, systematically unwinding her confidence as she marches on through the dark
one foot after the other, she tells herself
after so long of turning her back to the wind, to the fates, she has learned to keep her head on straight
orpheus is not sturdy, especially now, but he is not so weak to fail on a walk like this--long, but simple, and upon even ground
he is there, she tells herself. he is strong enough to keep up.
his heart is strong enough. it has to be.
hades lied to everyone in the underground--hades lied to make hadestown, she thinks
hades...
just this once--
she chooses to believe he didn't lie to her.
(pt. i) (pt. ii) (pt. iii) (pt. v) (epilogue) (askblog)
bonus:
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davidmann95 · 4 years
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Your power is mine: thoughts on Kingdom Hearts’ newest, oddest character
Finished Final Fantasy XV over the weekend. Mixed feelings to say the least, but it does give me an excuse to talk about Kingdom Hearts again, specifically this weirdo:
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And how it feels like most of the people discussing Yozora and trying to figure out what his deal is are missing half the point. Yes, there’s the apparent connections to Sora and Riku, and there’s his meta association with Noctis and the entire real-life corporate backstory there intertwining with the in-game narrative to an unknown extent. But when he’s discussed as some kind of fusion of Sora and Riku, or a literal reincarnation of Noctis, or that Verum Rex might end up a real game, or something similarly straightforward in terms of “he’s going to be a very important central character going forward”, the ideas or at least the tone of how they’re presented seem to miss an absolutely critical component of how he was introduced to us, in a way that shapes not only him but by extension the entire future of the franchise and its thematic concerns:
We aren’t just supposed to be surprised he’s important because he’s real where we thought he wasn’t. We’re supposed to be surprised because he’s introduced to us as a self-evident gag character.
Not that we’re not supposed to take him seriously where it counts: it’s clear he has an important role going forward and is a force to be reckoned with. But no matter what deep, foreboding connections to the Keyblade and Master of Masters may lie within his backstory that may determine the fate of more universes than one, he will never not have had the hilariously inauspicious beginning of being a toy played by Rex the Dinosaur. He doesn’t even have the dignity of being introduced as a game on one of the plot-heavy original worlds! He’s a throwaway gimmick to spice up one of the filler Disney segments, literally a child’s plaything.
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Even before we learn the context he’s being presented in...well, look at him. He’s like Riku, who’s cooler than Sora, and Noctis, a Final Fantasy character and therefore cooler than all this Disney stuff, but also he has a LASER SWORD and a CROSSBOW - that are clearly functioning as cool future tech instead of dopey magical powers - and his eyes are MYSTERIOUS MISMATCHING UNNATURAL COLORS and he fights GIANT ROBOTS with a dude in a fedora in a city straight out of the REAL WORLD to save a helpless lady/prize: truly, let no mistake be made, he is VERY, VERY SERIOUS INDEED, AND ALSO, RAD. TO THE MAX. He’s every attempt at reframing contemporary Final Fantasy as slick and modern and cool dialed up and up and up until the tone breaks, without the barest hint of self-awareness even as it advertises its action figure tie-ins. I don’t think that his little Keyblade pattern on his jacket being near-impossible to spot unless you’re looking for it is just to preserve the surprise, but also because the sight of the big keys with the Mickey Mouse logo on them would be anathema to his entire vibe, so important as it may be it must be squirreled away where it can’t make him look dumb. Heck, when Dylan Spouse announced on Twitter he was playing this major character in a childhood favorite franchise of his, surely knowing more than we do about Yozora, his description of the part was “I have lived out my edgy JRPG character fantasies...I even got to say ‘Sorry, but I don’t lose.’” We’re supposed to receive him off the bat as Square Enix, and more specifically Tetsuya Nomura, poking fun at themselves, going ‘yes, we suppose this is all getting to be a bit much, isn’t it?’
And then he enters the story for real.
Obviously he’s much more than a joke now, but the idea of him as something off, something that doesn’t fit in these games, endures. His episode isn’t just in a modern cityscape but skinned in the graphics of the grittier, more detailed style of the Pirates of the Caribbean world meant to evoke photorealism rather than the look of the rest of the game. He interferes with the gameplay in ways no other enemy does, stealing your items and weapons (we’ll get back to that). When he casts you into a void to be attacked by the mechs, it’s not a pure empty white but a mass of abstract polygonal space, evocative of the visuals of early game development. What details we do get of his backstory frame him as a counterpart to Sora on a parallel journey all his own, but the associations with his other source material in Noctis are considerably more...cutting. Credit to @kitsoa, whose own extensive musings on Kingdom Hearts’ increasingly overt metafictional concerns brought to my attention the obvious parallel: that Yozora being changed ‘beyond recognition’ with his heart replaced by another’s is a reasonable, albeit scathing description of Noctis’s revised character in the shift from the Nomura-helmed Final Fantasy Versus XIII to the largely overhauled Final Fantasy XV (and by the same token, the Nameless Star’s identity being stolen comes across as a shot at Versus XIII’s Stella Nox Fleuret being entirely replaced by Lady Lunafreya. Who, by sheer coincidence, would have been corrupted in planned but cancelled DLC into a monster of darkness).
While the comparisons to his source material are not only intentional but textually overt - his introduction as a real boy is literally scored to the FFXV theme music - so is the distancing from that material, given that if Nomura simply wanted to use Noctis the very premise of Kingdom Hearts as a series could have allowed him to use Noctis, and even change him to fit his original vision however he wished given the design and backstory changes to the other Final Fantasy characters involved. Yozora has a distinct role in which he’s still meant to represent that tone and aesthetic, and all signs point to that being because as that representation, he hardly seems an endorsement. He’s a parody, offered up in a demeaning context and tangled up narratively in real-life creative bitterness before being placed as an antagonist, however well-meaning (though keep in mind every secret boss of his kind before - other than Julius, I suppose - went on to become an endgame boss later on), in the player’s path. He may not be a villain, but all signs seem to indicate he’s a figure to be regarded as a contrast to the heroes.
And it’s in that role as a contrast that I have my own theories about what his deal ultimately is, thematically if not plotwise.
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For those who saw this in the Kingdom Hearts tag and aren’t superhero fans, that’s Superdoomsday, introduced in Grant Morrison’s run on Action Comics about 8 years ago. One among many takes on an ‘evil Superman’ from a parallel universe, the twist with his world is that rather than a survivor of Krypton, he is literally the materialized concept of Superman - imagined by his reality’s Clark Kent, Lois Lane, and Jimmy Olsen, who created a machine which could bring ideas to life - that when sold to a corporation was reimagined in service of wide public appeal into an all-powerful, uncompromisingly brutal monstrosity clad in armor somewhere between an iPhone, 90s Rob Liefeld battle gear, and Nazi regalia, who ultimately journeyed into the multiverse to stalk and kill other incarnations of Superman, seeing them as competition to his domination of the ‘market’. “The curse...of Superman...” murmurs the dying Kent of that world, “...he becomes anything you want...him...to be...our world...wanted that...”
Yozora is...probably not exactly a 1:1 to that. But as a counterpart to Sora, it absolutely seems as if the main factor by which he contrasts him is that he’s ostensibly the sleeker, edgier model, new-and-improved. He reworks Sora’s story arc and aesthetic into something theoretically cooler and more palatable, steals his power, ‘saves’ him by sealing him away to presumably fight in his stead and thereby take his place as the lead. He is the protagonist so many feel Kingdom Hearts has needed for years, the somber AMV-ready Secret Movie tone and aesthetic stepping into center stage at last rather than maintaining a sunshiney Disney-esque child hero lead to anchor the assorted conspiracies and horrors of much of the rest of the tale. The manner in which he is presented as to make metatextuality an in-universe concern (to call back to Grant Morrison again, his next work after Action Comics was Multiversity, where a major plot point was that the events of parallel universes were unwittingly documented in each others’ pop culture; in that case comic books, in here video games) for Kingdom Hearts to explore in the next main entry is I believe so as to ask what, in fact, Kingdom Hearts as a series should be; is it a Disney series with some incidental Final Fantasy stuff in it? A Final Fantasy spinoff with some Disney elements cluttering it up that should maybe be discarded as it grows up? Something all its own? Is it time for Kingdom Hearts to get Serious? Even if the Kingdom Hearts as imagined by a marketing executive vision of Verum Rex isn’t what’s next, what is, as things get darker and that vision is now part of the narrative whether for good or ill?
So yeah it looks like Kingdom Hearts IV is Kingdom Hearts vs. its own Gritty Realworld! Urban Fantasy AU fanfiction for the soul of the series, and I am extremely here for it.
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mysteryofren · 4 years
Text
A Power All To Your Own
part 26 of So Happy Together
25: https://mysteryofren.tumblr.com/post/618657462813343744/the-dress
note: readers dress is pale plum souffle from chotronette
Knocking was all you heard. You slowly opened your eyes, and tried to see what was around you. You watched Elaine begrudgingly get up. She opened the door quickly before slamming it shut. That's what woke you up for real. She shoved the form with her dress into the closet. you watched as she walked back over to the door and opened it. She went back to her bed, and Matt walked in with Ben. 
“ALRIGHT HUX!” you heard Matt yell. You felt Hux stir behind you, and you looked to see that he was still clinging to you as he was the night before.
“Don't get too excited we fell asleep while hanging out.” you slipped out of his arms and got up. Ben stared at you like you were the most interesting thing on earth. All you had on were shorts, and a shirt that covered them. You grabbed a blanket and hid your body from his eyes. 
Matt slid into your bed and took your spot in Hux’s arm. 
“Wake up baby.” he whispered in a high pitched voice.
“Darling we stayed up late, please let-” Hux opened his eyes to see Matt laying in front of him making kissy faces at him. He yelled as he pushed him off the bed. Matt fell to the ground laughing so hard you thought he was about to wet himself. You and Elaine laughed with him as he just stared at Hux. He looked at him like he was hoping he would catch on fire. 
“What on earth is wrong with you Solo?” he stood up out of the bed. At some point In the night he must have taken his shirt and pants off. You figured it was for comfort, but everyone in the room thought different. 
“ALRIGHT Y/N!!” Elaine yelled while holding her hand up for a high five. Matt looked between you two with his mouth wide open in shock. Ben just looked angrier.
“Y/N I swear I didn't do anything!!” Hux said to you while hiding his boxers with a pillow.
“I know we didn't do anything Hux.” you laughed. He grabbed his clothes, and got them on quickly.
“So what are you guys doing here?” you asked. 
“Uhh tux shopping for prom.” Ben said. You ignored him.
“I forgot we were going today. I would've gone home had I remembered.” Hux said while putting his shoes one.
“Yeah we went to your dorm. Your roommate said you had gone to a friends. I checked Phasma's dorm first, but when I didn't find you there I came here, and boy am I glad I did” Matt said as he got up off the ground.
“I have to go to my room to change.” 
“Alright lover boy lets go.” Matt said while patting Huxs back. They left the room, and left you and Elaine alone.
 Yout turned around, and she was smiling wide at you. You smiled back at her awkwardly at her. 
“We didn't do anything, I promise you.”
“I know, but you still looked pretty cozy in his arms.”
“I still like Ben.” you said while sitting in your bed.
“And does your friend know.” she pointed behind her referring to Rey.
“Yeah actually she does.” she made a face, and laid back down. You opened your phone to see that Hux had texted you.
‘I apologize if I overstepped my boundaries.’
‘It's no problem. You were just trying to sleep comfortably :)’ you sent back before getting up. You opened the closet, and brought Elaine's dress out. Usually during the weekends you were with your grandfather, but this week he had to go out of town for business. So this weekend you were only going over to feed, and play with Gideon then you were going back to the dorm. You placed her dress back by your bed, and looked through your closet. 
“Cmon I wanna hit as many stores as we can. I'm thinking we can have breakfast at Amilyns”
“Sounds good to me.” Elaine got up, and looked for an outfit as well. You had brought her to Amilyns a couple days after you got back from spring break. All of the first order had gone. They loved it. You all agreed to make it your place along with Maz’s diner. Once the both of you had finished getting ready you headed out to Amilyns. The whole drive you had discussed with Elaine about the type of dress you wanted. You just wanted something that was one color, but still elegant. Something that fits your personality. 
 Once at Amilyns you got your usual greeting from her. A big smile and wave while she runs around the counter to hug you. You guys couldn't always make it out to her place, but when you did she was always as excited to see you as the last time. She took your orders, and started on them as quickly as she could. Once they were done she came back with your drinks, and the usual little treats she brought along when she would sit, and talk to you. She had asked all the usual questions like how school was, what we had been up to lately, and why we were in town. Elaine had caught her up on her side of life. She told her about how her, and Matt had been doing really well. A few months ago you had come to the cafe by yourself, and when you spoke to her you told her about Ben.
“So you stopped talking to him?” she asked.
“Completely. It's for a good reason though. I want to focus on myself. Besides, it's wrong of me to go after him. I'm friends with Rey now.” 
 She gave a dramatic gasp while Elaine gave her a knowing nod. Amilyn placed a hand on her head, and pretended she was about to faint. 
“Say it ain't so Elaine.” Amilyn said in a dramatic tone. Elaine mocked her movements, placing the same hand on her head while leaning back. 
“I'm afraid it's the truth, Amilyn..” the both dramatically sighed.
“Alright, alright,” you started. “You can stop now, I'm sure that's enough to get you the oscar.”
“Cmon we're just having fun.” Elaine said while biting into a muffin that Amilyn had brought.
“I think it's good you two are friends. Your grandfather thinks so too. He likes having you both in the house so often.” 
“You guys stay at his house together?” Elaine asked.
“Wait, you talk to my grandfather?” you asked Amilyn.
“Yes, I do, he comes by a lot. He said he works in the city. Every now, and then he sits in the cafe, and we talk.”
“I didn't know he came by.”
“He does, and trust me, nothing has made him more happy than you, and Rey making up.” she picked up the mugs she had brought your drinks in and took them to the back. 
“I guess it's good that you two made up then huh?” 
“Yeah i guess.” 
“So, “ Amilyn started as she came back.”I do have some news.”
 You and Elaine perked up to listen to her.
“I've outgrown this place. Ive started getting a lot more business, and it's time for me to move shops. I found a cute place downtown that's much bigger, and will be able to accommodate the cafe.”
“Amilyn! That's so good, and downtown is closer to us so we can come by more!” Elaine exclaimed.
“Yeah this means we can come by a lot more!”
“I do have one small problem. I need help moving in a few weeks. Do you think you girl would be willing to help me?”
“Of course!!” you said. 
“We can get the boys to help too!” Elaine added.
“Perfect! I finalize my paperwork next week, then after I'm free to move in. Y/N I can text you when we're ready to start.”
“Yeah. for sure.” you all continued talking about the move, and what Amilyn will be doing for the next shop. She figured since it was closer, and all of you could visit more she would add some board games, and a table for playing them. You buzzed with excitement over the news that her business had grown large enough that she had to move. After what felt like hours you and Elaine decided to start the long process of trying to find your dress. You said your goodbyes to Amilyn, and texted the first order to let them know what she had just told you. They all agreed to help out with the move. 
 After a quick drive you guys finally get back to the mall. You decided to go to the one store you guys didn't get to visit while looking for her dress. Walking through the racks of the store you tried to see if something would catch your eye like Elaine's did. Unfortunately. No luck. The second go round you took your time. Carefully you went through almost every dress. You would look at it, then decide it wasn't the one. You had done so well with choosing Elaines that you knew what finding it felt like. After an hour of looking you had come to the conclusion that you weren't going to find your dress here. Soon it was time to move on to the next one. 
  Malls weren’t something you were too fond of. As a kid you always went to them with your mother whenever she decided to take you. She would spend hours dragging you around the stores to find clothes for her. For all her shit though she did have great style, and for that you can thank her. Even now being in the mall gave you a sense of dread and anxiety. Part of you felt like you didn't need a dress that bad. Sadly you did. It was too late to make your own, and you couldn't order one online. So this was your last option. ELaine on the other hand loved the mall. She was thriving on the fact that you both had to be there. She knew which stores had things you would be interested in.
 Hours went by, and you still couldn't find anything. You and Elaine had been there 4 hours, and couldn't find a single store left. It felt like there was nothing for you. Both of you walked into one of the last few stores. Heading straight for the dress section you heard something familiar. It was a voice. Asking someone to hold something. You and Elaine immediately stopped, and looked at the source of the voice. In the shoe area you saw your father. He was standing in the womens shoes section holding a few boxes, and looking down. Just then you saw your mother stand up. He was looking down at the floor with your father. You assumed that she was trying on shoes and asking for his opinion. 
“Mother? Father?” you called out. They both looked around before their eyes settled on you. They both smiled at you. 
“Y/N, darling! Give me a minute I’ll be right over!” you and Elaine walked over to where they were standing.
“Or I can come over here.” you said approaching them. 
“I assume you can.” your father said. He placed the boxes he was holding down, and gave you an awkward hug. You’ll admit. You, him, and your mother had started working on your relationship since your grandfather's birthday dinner. It was better, but it wasn't good enough that you felt comfortable touching them. He still squeezes you tight before pulling away, and giving you a smile. You smiled back awkwardly.  
“So what are you doing here, darling? You hate the mall.” your mother said pulling you in for a kiss on the cheek. 
“I'm looking for a prom dress.” 
“A prom dress? Prom isn't until next year.” your father said. A big smile made its way onto Elaine's face.
“She's going with Armitage.” she said in a playful tone.
“Armitage? Armitage who?” Your father asked while he watched your mother struggle to take her heels off.
“Armitage Hux.” You said lightly elbowing Elaine for telling them.
“Hux? As in Brendol Hux’s son?” Your father asked.
“Brendol? I know the man he's good, but isn't his son the product of an affair?” your mother finally got the shoe off, and slipped back into her shoe.
“Yes, but please don't hold that against him. His dad does enough of that already.” 
“You must be Elaine.” Your mother said holding her hand out. Elaine took it, and shook it gently.
“Yes, ma’am I am.”
“So Elaine, this Armitage should we trust him?” your father immediately asked.
“Father!” you tried to interject, but Elaine went on to reply.
“He's a good guy. He's been in love with her for who knows how long.” she joked. Both your parents stared at her with blank faces. She didn't realize you couldn't joke with them, like your grandfather.
“Yes, you should trust him. He’s smart, and kind. He would never do anything to hurt her.”
“Well,” your father said. “Good. When is the prom? I would like for us to go and see you.”
“It's saturday.” 
“Have you found a dress yet?” your mother asked. 
“No, I was hoping we could find it today, but we haven't had much luck.” 
“That's because you don't have me to help. Honey, put those boxes down and we're going to help her find her dress.” your father put the boxes down.
“Tell me everything you want.” your mother demanded. You explained to her what you were looking for. She thought to herself for a moment. 
“Alright follow me.” she walked off, and Elaine automatically followed. Your father came up behind you, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder.
“It will be like a family trip!” he said before you both followed your mother. She led you to one of the stores you had been to before. 
“Mother, we already checked everywhere here.” 
“Not everywhere, darling.” she stopped at a register, and demanded them to bring a manager down. The employee looked terrified, but they called him down anyways. As soon as he saw your mother he smiled, and walked over to greet her.
“Mrs. Kenobi. To what do we owe the pleasure?” he said.
“My daughter needs a prom dress. I was hoping we could find one in the back.” 
“Why of course. If you all could follow me.” you all followed behind him, and he brought you to a big door he opened it for all of you, and in front of you were racks of clothes that hadn't been put out for sale yet. Some of them weren't even meant to be put out until next season.
“Take your time, when you're ready to come upstairs, I'll check you out personally.” he left you all to search for something for you to wear. Your mother walked off knowing where to go. Elaine walked away to see what was hidden in the racks. 
“How can she do that?” you asked your father.
“I believe everyone has some sort of secret power. Your mother's power is that people are scared of her.” 
“That's a pretty good point. Wish I had gotten that from her.”
“You have a power all to your own, love.” 
“What is it?” Just then your mother called you. You followed the sound of her voice, and found her. She held up a dress, and looked at you.
“Is this the dress you were looking for?” she asked. 
 You walked over, and inspected it. It was beyond perfect. You looked at the tag and saw it was a pale plum color. Like, Elaine's it consisted of tulle. It had a train as well. The bodice had a v neckline, with ruffles decorating it along with sequins and beads. This was it. The feeling you had with Elaine's dress was taking over your emotions. It was better than anything you could have made. 
“Yes. this is it.”
Tags: @wumboho @duty-isnt-always-honour @pylopenpolo @wondering-wishing-well
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rhimorechill · 4 years
Note
1-30 can i just have your opinion on all of them please
KDHSKHFKFB whoever u are anon ur actually my only follower ever
1. are you of the “tom nook is a crook” or “tom nook is an honest businessman” opinion ?
HES AN HONEST BUSINESSMAN !!! ur loans have NO interest and he was handing out 100k interest/month for a good while there !!!!! the only reason it dropped to 10k is b/c i accidentally made a mil while tryna get dreamies ok. the whole "nook inc owns the entire island" thing is KINDA WEIRD but like ! i mean. its still a pretty sweet deal
2. do you play as yourself or a made up character ?
i play as me !! and then everyone tells me my character is cute which ROCKS
3. where is your house located ?
well CURRENTLY. its just at the center of the island. but once i get terraforming (which will be as soon as i get lolly, mitzi, and purrl) it will be on its own little island in the middle of the island
4. who were your first villagers ?
hamlet and renee ! and bea and agent s and broccolo. oh and quillson. theyre all gone now but i moved bea into a friends island so i can visit her later !!
5. preferable method of earning bells ?
turnip runs babey !!! srsly i will pay like 500k tips and make a million in PROFIT (per run !!) its fucking awesome. i never use turnip exchange tho that shit website always stops telling me where i am in the queue
6. what villager personalities do you typically get along best with ?
i love all of them. so much. normal and lazy villagers might take the cake, but ankha was on my island for 2 days and nearly stole my heart, so snooty villagers r up there too. smug villagers ? like i mostly have experience w raymond b/c i fucking HATED quillson and keaton n ed i barely paid attention to (ed gets points tho. he shares my bday) but that goddamn nerd has a war with slugs. we love to see it. peppy villagers rock (i have THREE on my island rn... but ugh i gotta kick out merry sometime..... i love her but i just !! have too many). i CANNOT hate jock villagers those guys just wanna work out !!! and talk abt working out !!!! theyve done nothing wrong in their whole lives. uchi villagers are great too and cranky villagers r trying their best !!! every villager is good is what im saying. even quillson (i guess)
7. who is your current best friend in the game ?
MGHGSHGD felicity or raymond !!! they send me mail all the time and also i really like raymond. b/c hes such a fucking NERD of an accountant. and felicity was the first of my dreamies to move in so im 💚 when it comes to her...... SOMEDAY. lolly will also be my bff. lolly come home
8. is there a villager you want to get rid of ?
MERRY WHITNEY VELMA. PLEASE GO AWAY. U R ALL SWEETIES BUT NONE OF U MADE THE CUT. ONLY ONE OF U IS EVEN A CAT. (if you want whitney or velma pls dm me !!! someone asked for merry already but id love for them to be on islands where ppl love em)
9. do you hoard a lot of items ?
YES. i did a purge the other day and laid a fuckton of items out to give away. it did not fit and i had to shove some on the cliffs. i still have a big pile waiting to be taken. meanwhile my storage gets new items added
10. take medicine or save & restart ?
medicine is for chumps.
11. where is your favorite spot in your village ?
HMMMM i rlly like my entrance !!!! its rlly neat and has green AND pink mums + trees..... and fencing and a path. IDK i worked hard on it and think it turned out rlly well !!!! other than that maybe my shopping area ? i dont have terraforming yet so theres a lot i Havent Gotten To wrt my island (like my cliffs are almost entirely undeveloped b/c i havent placed any inclines. so theres no pathing)
12. what achievement do you want to hit the most ? (ex: golden equipment, all fish / bugs, etc)
its not REALLY an achievement but i want all my dreamies real bad. after that i want a 5 star island !! i would like a lily of the valley. or 20.
13. do you know any secret tips ?
HMMM i dont think so ?? i dont really know any secrets. ive been trying out campsite cycling and it has Not been going well tho. if u need tips on tting to move villagers out or smthn i can help w that !! this is such a vague q that im like DO i know smthn ??? that is a secret ?????? i also vaguely know abt *m**b* sp**f*ng but im not allowed to do that soooo. thats a pipe dream. fun fact: its not a secret but gardening is SO fucking complicated theres genetics n shit. its wild. thank god someone straight up gave me blue roses so i dont have to go thru that shit. also do not tt backwards when dealing with turnips. not even 30 mins to save ur 600+ prices frm closing time. They Will Change
14. who are your dreamies ?
THESE CATS (i know major shocker from tumblr user pumakittycat. app is acnh life)
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15. favorite furniture item ?
HMMMM THIS IS A TOUGH ONE. maybe mum cushions ? those r cute as fuck. i love every flower item, honestly, frm garden wagons to flower stands to pansy tables to hycanith lamps to. idk the bonsai shelf ? i have one of those. i also love my sea globe. its great. WAIT DO RUGS AND WALLS/FLOORS COUNT THERES NO QUESTIONS ABT THOSE i love so many FUCKING items. also autumn woods wall, if ur out there,
16. favorite clothing item / outfit ?
my green clover dress !!!! its the best thing EVER. my full outfit also consists of a silver tiara, a cherry blossom pouchette, white fishnets, and green rubbertoed sneakers. and, ofc, clover facepaint. ALSO FOR CONTEXT. my island is named clover bay thats why im like Clover Time. Theyre Important To The Aesthetic. im also an aro bitch who loves overall dresses. b/c they slap
17. favorite museum room ?
I LOVE THE LITTLE BUTTERFLY ROOM do not even TALK to me unless ur the butterfly room in the museum THERES SO MANY AT ALL TIMES ITS SO NICE
18. cedar, fruit, or palm tree ?
FRUIT. i literally chopped down every single hardwood tree on my island and replaced them w orange trees
19. favorite fruit ?
.......Oranges
20. favorite fish ?
HM. bitterling has a special place in my heart for being my Only fish model. whale sharks also rock tho. and thats only of the ones ive caught !!! i also love frogs, turtles, and obligatorily catfish. oh and seahorses and bettas
21. favorite bug ?
HM. ladybugs maybe. and both birdwings ! maybe also emperors butterflies. possibly others as well
22. favorite flower breed ?
MUMS !!!!!
23. favorite crossbred rare flower breed + color ?
GREEN MUMS.
24. favorite villager personality ?
havent we been over this ? im a dumb bitch who likes all of them way too much
25. favorite time of day to play ?
i uh. play. all the time. i tt a Lot tho so i like setting my time to 1pm ? idk it Feels like a good time
26. favorite special visitor event or reward ? (ex: selecting an art piece from redd, aiding guliver and getting a special item, etc)
SAHARAH. im obsessed w the fucking rugs and the tickets and the lottery. i also love celeste, and gulliver has a spot on the faves list for providing lucky cats sometimes (also a fave item) and for having been to space
27. favorite kk song ?
call me basic, but bubblegum kk plays at all times in my living room
28. favorite animal crossing game ?
ACNH lmao. i never really sat down and got Dedicated to city folk, which is the only other game ive played
29. if you’ve played animal crossing before, are there any animals you’re nostalgic for ? if this is your first game, has any animal in particular left some effect on you ?
ROVERRRRR come home :( also harriet.... i Miss Her. and resetti (i REFUSE to use rescue services dont @ me). and also the bus driver guy who took u to the city. If You Were An NPC In City Folk I Miss You Now
30. share a story from your gameplay
SO. i love the little alien easter egg. i set up a photoshoot and made like a little storyline abt the aliens and stuff. i even got a flying saucer and put that down and used it. and every fucking time !!!! i do shit with aliens !!!!!!! gulliver shows up on my beach. i know he went to space in cf n stuff (I GOT FLAVOR TEXT ONE TIME-- DURING NH-- ABT HIM NOT WANTING TO GO BACK EVEN) so i think its fucking hilarious that the aliens show up.... so does he
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trackinghallownest · 5 years
Note
-slides into your dms- tell me about your vessel ocs!!!! Whose your favorite. Everyone has a favorite even if they don't like to admit it! And is it ok if I draw them interacting with my vessel ocs?
HHfngfh gh i’m,,, thank you for this ask i’m dying,, i will absolutely go off if you dont mind me taking this chance!! ft doodles!! because i can!! and you absolutely can draw them with yours i will probably cry and definitely draw interactions back udfkfhvdf;;
some of this i may have mentioned in other posts but i cant for the life of me keep track of what ive put here compared to the discord so! i’m just going to fact dump! and put under a cut so i don’t completely fill peoples’ dashes shkfd
first is gonna be spindle since. i love them. theyre probably my favourite. and also the first i made. theyre just babie
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they really are just babey,,
kind of accidentally an endless source of lifeblood which is a long story but its not.. very fun. to be constantly covered in plants. by adulthood most of their torso and one of their limbs is almost completely replaced/encased in plant matter
they take this pretty well actually. even if it gets a lot harder to move
for a vessel they grew up to full size much quicker than others of their kind, likely due to the lifeblood’s properties, but really nobody has much of a clue. didnt have time to get used to their size and still has VERY bad spatial awareness
broke their horn tip by smacking it on a low ceiling hkfdnfbdmvdf
plants bursting out of their shell and eye have pretty badly damaged it, and they can’t see out of the broken eye
theyre trying their hardest!! always!! they can’t move around very well and sometimes get lonely sitting at home in dirtmouth but they’re friendly to just about anybody and have so much love to give
seriously they dont even eat but they like to make sure they have food and drink at home in case anyone drops in and needs it
they’ve never been able to fight, and shy away from violence or combat in all forms
very scared of the dark and carries a lantern with them at all times, usually around their neck
discharges excess lifeblood into soil and grows a garden from it - keeps it from overtaking their body any further, and it’s something to do
not the best at communicating since a wood arm makes signing stiff and tricky, but they’re not much of a talker (signer?) anyway
then we have scratch n thimble who are kinda twins but not really. yeah those are matching scarves they are Bros (sibs??)
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scratch FIGHTS THINGS and USES A REAL BIG NAIL
the biggest of all my vessel ocs, just in general. a big and strong friend
made it to the palace but got tossed for starting to care too much and takin a blow for another sibling. saved thimble from dying down there too and they were absolutely inseparable since
really just the embodiment of the ‘you befriended x! x would now die for you’ meme not gonna lie
has almost literally died for Multiple siblings n friends before but they wouldn’t let them. which is, a good thing
too reckless for their own good especially in their younger years but thankfully mellows out quite a bit by adulthood
tries to keep up a strong stoic front but also doesnt hesitate to abandon it if needed. theyre big soft really (they wont admit it tho)
has The Biggest soft spot for kids do not let them tell you otherwise
fought for the sake of it in the colosseum for many years before Stuff And Things involving yet another vessel happened and they kinda trashed the place and never went back
their nail is about as big and heavy as their entire body and they’re surprisingly good at using it for something so unwieldy. could probably crush most bugs just by virtue of it being So Damn Big
spends a lot of time when grown at the howling cliffs keeping an eye on those travelling into the kingdom, and deterring those with malicious intent
they got that eye wound from their sibling… it was technically an accident. they still don’t talk about it though
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contrary to their twin thimble is the smallest vessel (as a babby at least - they do end up standing taller than spin and ruth when fully grown)
they have the very unfortunate problem of their shade having fused with void tendrils from the abyss sea as a babby
as such their shade is very violent and kinda has a habit of literally bursting out their shell and lashing out at anything around them under stress
eventually they get a handle on it and learn to control the literally overflowing void inside them but until then their entire life is pretty much a big clusterfuck of trying not to kill people, which they hate
they’re very timid and shy and cling to familiar figures (especially scratch) probably too much, but strike out on their own much more growing up 
theyre very strong and capable, moreso than most magic users, but you wouldn’t guess it. the only time they’d even consider showing it is in another’s defense
uses void tendrils like extra limbs. very functional! can hold many things (or offer many hugs) at once. may be slightly slimy though.
their cloak is very long and would probably benefit from being trimmed shorter but they absolutely refuse to let anyone touch it. its kinda grimy at this point and they trip a lot but don’t do anything about it
friends with a bunch of mossflies they picked up in the gardens! they all have names
can communicate with other void-creatures by sharing some of their own void! this was discovered entirely by accident but very useful, if awkward to explain
sure they’re kinda timid and like being on their lonesome, but they’re also very level-headed and friendly, and get along very well with low-energy quieter sorts of people especially
ruth is a small vessel rn/as far as i’ve worked out a timeline for! i know what they look like big but as far as the content on this blog currently goes theyre just .. smal
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actual infant. hadnt actually been wandering out of the abyss that long before being dragged up to the colosseum to fight for sport
really doesnt have much of a clue how to act at first, other than ‘stab things before they stab you’
their name comes from ‘ruthless’, a nickname they got in the colosseum because they literally did not (appear to) give two shits whether they lived or died in battle. they’d just come back, anyway
scratch was the one that found them flinging a nail around and immediately went ‘oh thats a baby. this is bad, actually’
for the first short while of freedom scratch is the only one they’ll let even get close to them, and pretty much clings to them relentlessly. not a moments rest
they were actually pretty badly infected by the time they were broken out but theyre better now (another long story)
doesn’t have a natural cloak - it was ripped out and never grew back in. they make do though! their ‘new’ one was made from part of scratch’s that they ripped off and fixed together. they love it more than anything
once they actually figured out not everyone was out to kill them they stopped fighting back, and became a lot more curious and lively in general
still has a very warped and guarded sense of trust, however
kinda iffy around weapons and reacts badly to confrontation but does eventually learn to fight again (just.. in a better way)
pretty short even when grown, and going by height alone is the shortest when they’re all big
likes picking up pretty trinkets and things and carrying them around. has a few tied to their horns (as well as many pockets)
i have just now decided that spite counts as well! they dont actually survive to adulthood in any timeline i have currently (sorry spite) so big spite is entirely a theoretical but theyre fun to draw so
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now spite? spite wins the babiest baby award
has one single braincell that bounces around their shell like a windows screensaver
their name indicates they are capable of feeling any negative emotion or hatred which is entirely untrue. by the time this was figured out they already wouldn’t answer to anything else
absolutely no sense of self-preservation or common sense. they are, in most regards, a very cute and very stupid dog
got lost on their way out of the abyss the first time around, ended up in the lighthouse and met friend mori!! was almost caught but eventually smuggled out and away
spent a lot of the time on the run in city of tears with said friend who was pretty much presumed dead by then. got taken in by a family, enjoyed themselves for a while
…but were eventually caught and thrown right back into the abyss along with mori killing them both for real this time. unfortunately.
cut to MANY years later and oops! their shade fused with the corpse and for some ungodly reason theyre both alive. time for the worst buddy comedy ever ft. literal pile of goop and body parts
spite does not seem to know nor care that theyre dead however
mostly happy to sit up there on mori’s shell and nap for hours at a time or fiddle with literally anything in reach. give them a cool rock and they’ll be entertained for hours. they are but a simple creacher
they do actually eventually learn to use a nail but who’s idea was it to give a child a sword. seriously i just wanna talk
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violetsmoak · 4 years
Text
Pieces of April [13/?]
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530
Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.
Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)
Warning(s): Past Jason/Isabel, kidfic, minor canon character death (pretty sure you can guess who), I’ll add more warnings/tags as I think of them.
Canon-Compliance: Takes place in between the two RHATO series, so after Roy and Kori and before Artemis and Bizarro. Jason and Isabel Ardila were in a brief relationship.
First Chapter
________________________________________________________________
“Have you seen this?!” Damian explodes, stalking into Tim’s office with all the fury of a pit-bull wearing a thousand-dollar suit. His somewhat bruised face is red with fury as he slams of a piece of paper down on Tim’s desk.
“Did we have an appointment?” Tim asks lightly. “Because otherwise, I need to call an exorcist about a demon problem.”
“Stow your inappropriate humor, Drake, I just received a memo from our lawyers—”
“You received a memo? You don’t even work here officially. You were probably just sitting in B’s office pretending to do your homework and then snooped in his inbox when his back was turned.”
“A technicality that holds no bearing on this,” the boy sniffs, waving the paper again. “The patent office is denying Wayne Enterprises claim for the personal water filtration device we filed for on Tuesday.”
“What?” Tim demands, snatching the paper and glaring down at it; that was one of the projects he’s been overseeing the past few months. “On what grounds?”
“LexCorp apparently filed for a similar product 24 hours before we did.”
“Bullshit,” Tim snaps. “As of last month, they weren’t even out of the developmental stage on that.”
He knows because he’d been to the factory chasing down a lead on a completely unrelated case as Red Robin and happened to catch sight of their prototype. It was nowhere near the quality that Luke Fox already perfected in the Wayne tech division.
“Apparently someone’s been helping them out.”
“Any idea who?”
“I can ferret out the traitor soon enough, and make them see the error of their ways,” Damian says, smiling unpleasantly.
Which could mean anything from destroying their legal existence, or a personal beat-down by Robin depending on his mood.
“No,” he says. “We’ll figure out who did it, and why. Then we take it to Lucius.”
“I would imagine the motive for the deceit is rather self-evident.”
“It isn’t always. Motive colors everything. For all we know, it could be a blackmail situation. I wouldn’t put anything past LexCorp, or their R&D team.”
“And the issue of the patent itself?” Damian demands, folding his arms. “This company has invested significant capital in developing the product; if LexCorp retains the patent, our profit margins this quarter will tank.”
Tim smiles coolly. “They’ve invested a lot more than we did. Especially if they’re paying off a corporate spy. I’ll talk to Luke and his dad, but I think if we circulate the story we’re placing the design schematics online to ensure anyone in need can construct their own unofficial versions of it—for humanitarian and innovative reasons of course—LexCorp will take the worse hit and with the good press WE gets, we can recoup.”
“You don’t actually intend to follow through with that, do you?” Damian asks, nose wrinkled in distaste. “That reeks of compromise.”
“Of course we’ll follow through. With the prototype designs, not the final versions. Profit was never the main goal of that project anyhow, so we can afford a delay on returns. With the sudden influx of bootlegged versions of the technology, owning the patent will no longer be the challenge, it will be providing the most efficient and functional model. Which ours is, given the time we spent developing it.”
“So even if LexCorp releases their version, it will continue to underperform next to ours,” Damian realizes. He thinks about it for a moment and then nods. “That’s a semi-acceptable solution. Not enough justification for you to still be here, though.”
A brief, shining moment of an almost-compliment…and we’re back to that again.
“You know, if you’re so concerned that the team in San Francisco is bereft of management, you could always fly down yourself.”
“This is my city. I won’t leave it.” Which is the same argument he used last night; odd, considering Damian likes to be varied in his attacks on Tim. “Besides, we have all seen the results of the alternative.”
Meaning their short-lived team-up where everyone compared them to each other and Damian split.
Tim raises an eyebrow at that.
It almost sounds like he’s…upset about that. Funny, he’s never indicated he minded leaving the Titans when I came back. And half the time he’s off doing whatever it is he does with John.
“Well, maybe if you hadn’t been such a jerk to them, they wouldn’t have been so eager to see the back of you,” he points out, even as he immediately knows it’s the wrong thing to say. Damian’s expression, on the cusp of showing vulnerability, shuts down completely.
“I have learned it is futile to argue with stupidity, and that includes a preference for subpar leadership. Which you should be getting back to and cease wasting company time on whatever it is you don’t actually contribute here.”
Tim rolls his eyes, counts to ten in his head, and replies, “I have a case here, you know. I’m not leaving until that’s done. And maybe if you stopped being such an ass about it and just came out and asked, I’d be happy to call the team and suggest giving you another chance.”
“I don’t require your pity!”
“That’s not what—” Tim groans and pinches the bridge of his nose; why does every conversation with Damian that doesn’t include weapons, always go pear-shaped? “Are you and B fighting again? Is that what this is?”
“Of course not!”
Twin spots of red indicate that’s exactly what it is, and Tim groans internally.
Exactly when did I take over from Dick as chief soother of family problems?
Probably shortly after Dick “died” and went undercover with Spyral. Which he thinks is patently unfair, considering Cass is technically second-oldest, and Jason gives off more of that brother-vibe despite his abrasiveness.
Not that that’s particularly helpful now; he’s got his own problems to deal with.
And of anyone in the family, Tim’s the only one Damian interacts with almost as much as Dick, so maybe it’s not surprising.
Before he can ruminate any more on that, his phone buzzes; it’s from an unknown number, but Tim can guess who it’s coming from based on the first words in the text message.
- Hospital called. Tests positive…
There’s more to it, but Damian’s trying to read it upside down, so Tim snatches it up and reaches for his briefcase.
Apparently, the hospital put a rush on the paternity test results after all. Jason is probably freaking out right now.
 “We can continue this whole you-asking-for-help-but-not-really-thing tomorrow.”
“I’m not—that isn’t—you presume—” the kid splutters as Tim closes his laptop, before recovering and demanding, “Where are you going?”
“Picking up Ives at St. Camillus,” he lies with ease and mentally apologizes to his absent friend for using him as a cover. “He’s had a hard go of it, so we’re doing pizza and a Mission Impossible marathon.” He pretends to pause. “You’re welcome to come, but I’m telling you now we’re not ordering vegetarian or vegan pizza for you. It’s going to be a no vegetable zone.”
In the past few years he’s discovered the fastest way to get Damian to leave him alone is to welcome him to spend time with him. The kid is so set in his ways of insisting he loathes Tim that he’ll go out of his way to refuse such an invitation on principle, even in cases where Tim suspects he wouldn’t mind sticking around.
Tim thinks he has another year or two of that strategy working before Damian finally figures it out. Which could potentially be fun—he wonders what it would be like to have a younger brother that isn’t constantly trying to cut the knees out from under him—but for now, he really wants to avoid it.
Luckily, in this Damian remains predictable.
“I’d rather not stunt my growth like you,” the boy sneers.
Tim pretends that dig doesn’t irritate him, the way it has been since he noticed Damian catching up to him in height. The kid is smug about it and likes to rub it in. Tim, however, has learned the best way to circumvent that is to make a joke of it.
“I thought everyone assumed it was the energy drinks,” he grins.
“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out on your territory since you’ve decided to engage in an evening of sloth instead of important work,” Damian grumbles and stalks out of his office.
“So that’s a ‘no’ to pizza night?” Tim calls after him, fully aware of the answer.
“You’re a disgrace, Drake.”
“Make good choices!”
He allows himself a moment to bask in the satisfaction of ticking off the younger boy, before growing solemn again. He unlocks his phone to scan the whole message.
- Hospital called. Tests positive. Pickup tonight. Legal stuff figured out?
Tim shakes his head; Jason might as well be organizing a stakeout for all the details he’s given. It’s a typical Bruce-ism they’ve all adopted for when they are too overwhelmed to deal with something. He wonders if Jason’s even aware he’s doing it.
He quickly types out a reply—I’ll pick you up and we’ll go together. I have papers you need—and heads for the company garage.
He remembers the process from when Steph had her baby and signed the adoption papers, and so has ensured the documents the hospital will require are on-hand. Social security and medical history forms, birth certificates, driver’s license—a surface survey of identification to prove that Jason Ardila exists.
All Jason needs to do is memorize them on the drive over in case anyone decides to ask questions. Which they won’t, since the fact of Jason being the baby’s biological parent cuts down on a lot of paperwork for them, and Tim knows from personal experience that when it’s possible to avoid paperwork, most organizations do.
Inching back home through Gotham’s usual rush hour madness, Tim wonders if Jason will still be there when he gets to the apartment or if this is the point where he gives up and makes a run for it.
Halfway to the Nest, he gets another text from Jason, this one informing him he’s not at Tim’s place. A follow-up message lists an address Tim thinks he might have read recently, and it’s only when he gets home that he recognizes it from the file he read on Isabel.
Guess he decided to go out today after all.
He quickly changes from his business suit to something casual and unassuming, not wanting to draw attention if he goes into the hospital with Jason, and then hunts up the car seat from the piles of baby things Tam bought. Once that’s carefully installed into one of his less flashy cars, he heads out to the location Jason gave him.
He pulls up in front of a well-maintained condominium, and texts Jason about his arrival; though he knows he’s there, he’s still somewhat surprised when the older man materializes from behind the building, his face ashen and entire body pulled tight and tense.
As Jason gets into the car, Tim knows better than to ask him what’s wrong or if he’s alright.
Instead, he asks, “Have you eaten?”
Jason blinks at him like he’s speaking a foreign language, and then processes. “Not yet.”
Tim’s eyebrows go up at that because usually, it’s him that has to be reminded of eating; Jason’s one of those people that has to eat every three hours, or they become ornery.
He spares a moment to wonder where he picked up that bit of knowledge, and then suggests, “We can stop for food first if you want.” There’s a place on the Upper Eastside where Red Hood has been known to frequent. “We can take as long as you want.” 
“If I eat anything right now, I’m going to throw up,” Jason informs him. “I want to just get this over with.”
“Right.” He can understand that. “Okay, on that note—” Tim strains behind the seat, finagling the folder he stuck there with only the slightest pulled muscle, “—here.”
He hands Jason the folder of documents.
“These are all the official stuff they might ask you for, though I doubt we’ll need all of them today,” he explains. “I also included a list of social media sites you’re now registered on and tweaked your membership dates to exist retroactively, though that’s more for you and not the hospital.”
Jason makes a face. “You gave me a Facebook account.”
“Having one is almost more proof of your existence than having a passport these days,” Tim replies. “Which you still need to get, but we can hold off on that for a little longer. Everything here is just to throw off anyone from social services or the government if they decide to investigate you while we’re coming up with the long-term plan. And if we need an ironclad background, we can bring Oracle in on this.”
Jason’s expression becomes darker.
“Obviously I know you want that to be a last resort,” Tim says quickly. “But just keep in mind it’s an option. And O’s pretty good at keeping secrets from the rest of the family too, you know.”
The older man flips through the documents again and shakes his head. “This is pretty comprehensive considering the kid’s not hanging around here for long.”
“Trust me, if you want to get her out of the hospital, it’s going to have to be that comprehensive.”
It looks like Jason has a comment for that, probably about how he doesn’t want to take her from the hospital, but he visibly buries it and focusses on getting familiar with his new background.
The rest of the drive is silent and tense, and not for the first time Tim questions the wisdom in getting involved at all. Out of everyone in the family to help Jason through a tough emotional spot, Tim always considers himself the last resort; even Damian has more in common with Jason. On the other hand, with this particular scenario, maybe there is no right person to help.
Luck of the draw, I guess…
The tension in the car ratchets up tenfold as they pull into the hospital parking lot. Tim makes a judgment call to not simply drop Jason off on his own this time and even offers to carry the baby-carrier with him into the building, though Jason declines.
Probably needs something to do with his hands.
Tim feels a modicum of relief at that; the contraption is bulky and seems too big for the baby he held in his arms yesterday. Knowing him, he’d probably drop it and send Jason into a panic attack…
They head to the neonatal section in silence, and when they get there Tim’s the one who speaks to the receptionist. She hands him a clipboard with a bunch of release forms and waivers, then assures him the doctor will be with them shortly, before pointing them toward the waiting area.
Once seated, Tim divides up the forms and offers Jason a spare pen from his jacket pocket.
“This stuff’s all insurance and stuff,” he tells him. “I can fill them out for you.”
“I said I was going to handle it.”
“Did I say I was putting my information down on it?”
Jason scowls. “I hope you know how creepy it is you know so much about me.”
“Creepy, but useful,” Tim retorts and shoves a different form at Jason. “This is all family and medical stuff. That’s on you.”
“How generous,” Jason deadpans, though he takes the paper and reads through it.
Despite having the majority of the forms, Tim finishes long before Jason does. When he glances over to see what’s keeping him, he realizes that while everything else is filled out, he seems stuck on the name part of the questionnaire.
“You almost done?” he prompts, instead of asking if he’s alright.
Jason visibly shakes himself, jots something down on the paper, and practically shoves it back into Tim’s hands. “Yeah. All good.”
Tim glances at the form, noting that in a fit of inspiration, Jason has added Isabel as the child’s middle name.
As if expecting Tim to comment, he mutters, “Wherever she ends up, she should at least have a part of her mom.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
He takes the documents back to the receptionist to be copied and filed, before returning to sit with Jason.
“It’s a nice name,” he offers after a while. “Luisa Isabel.” He considers. “We can call her Isa. It works for both.”
“Shit. Jason blinks. “I didn’t think about that. Maybe it’s not too late to change it.”
“I wasn’t making fun, you know. It’s a decent nickname.”
Jason shoots him a sharp look. “What did I say about getting attached?”
“Why do you even care? Whoever ends up taking her might change it anyway.”
That comment makes Jason frown, as if he didn’t consider it, but if he has anything to reply, it’s cut off when a nurse appears and calls out Jason’s name.
“Right this way,” she beams at them, leading them to the hallway outside of an observation room; she promises to return in a moment.
Jason and Tim look inside, where there are rows of infants in clear cradles. The nurse stops in front of one of them—labeled Baby Ardila—and picks up the pink swaddled infant.
“Mr. Ardila,” a familiar voice interrupts, and they glance up as Dr. Kerry makes an appearance. He hesitates upon meeting Tim’s gaze, clearly wanting to keep to the privacy he requested yesterday. “Mr…”
“Draper,” Tim supplies smoothly, glad for the attempt.
“Right.” The man shakes his head and returns his attention to Jason. “As you’re aware, we did receive the tests back confirming the paternity. All that’s left is to release her into your custody, though I do have a few last-minute matters to discuss.”
“Sure,” Jason says tightly.
 “Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong. She’s in excellent health,” the doctor assures them, as Jason fiddles with the baby carrier. He seems to be unsure if he should carry it by the handle or in his massive arms.
It would be kind of funny if he wasn’t so terrified.
“Her Apgar scores are perfect, she’s already had her Vitamin K injection and shots against Hepatitis B—all of which was arranged and signed off on before the birth,” he adds quickly, wary like he’s expecting them to rage at him for vaccinating the child.
“Good,” Jason says, probably because it’s one less thing to worry about.
Kerry appears relieved, and continues, “She’ll have a series of injections and boosters she’ll be needing, but her pediatrician will give you all of that information when you bring her for her check-up a week from now—" Kerry cuts himself off as if remembering the situation. “I can give you several referrals if you haven’t selected one yet.”
“Thank you, but that’s unnecessary,” Tim says. “We have a family physician.”
Kerry glances at Jason, as if unsure if he should be deferring that decision to Tim considering the kid’s paternity, but Jason nods. “I think that’s probably the only thing we for-sure have covered.”
Not entirely sure Leslie’s area is babies, but she’s still the only doctor worth trusting in this city. Jason knows it too.
“Very well,” the man says with a hint of doubt in his voice. He appears to debate with himself about something for a moment and then squares his shoulders. “We do have a social worker on-site if you change your mind about adoption.”
“No,” Jason says.
Kerry sighs. “Mr. Ardila, if you’ll pardon my input—you’re young. And given the circumstances, this is quite a shock. It’s admirable you want to do the right thing and step up to your responsibilities, but it would be remiss of me not to remind you to do what’s best for the child and yourself as well. If at any time you think you can’t do this, you have options. It’s better to figure out what you want to do now while she’s so young than once she’s had time to bond with you.”
Jason looks torn by either prospect, so Tim cuts in with a polite, “Thank you, doctor. We’re aware of our options. As you said, this has been quite a shock, and we have a lot do discuss. However, we would rather the baby not be left indefinitely in the hospital while we do that. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course.” Kerry clears his throat, uncomfortable. “The attending nurse has a few papers to give you, commonly asked questions and the like. Just an overview of care for the next week or so, but if there’s any concern—anything at all—I’ve included my emergency phone number and email.”
“Thank you.”
He hesitates a further second, before excusing himself. There’s hardly any time to process that, before the nurse has returned, Luisa in her arms.
“Here she is,” she murmurs softly, almost a coo as she presents the baby to them.
When Jason hesitates a half-second too long, Tim immediately reaches out to pick up the swaddled infant. He may have done a little bit of research and YouTubing earlier to ensure a little more confidence when holding her.
Today, Luisa’s eyes are actually open—barely—though unfocussed. She has no reaction for Tim other than a slight scrunching of her nose and futile wriggle against the blankets keeping her wrapped like a baby burrito. Her skin’s blotchy and a bit greasy looking, and she still resembles a potato, though maybe a bit less wrinkled today.
Jason puts the carrier down, and while he appears intent on whatever the nurse is telling him—either congratulations or the infant care Kerry promised—Tim busies himself with figuring out how to put the infant in the carrier.
Does she really need that many straps and buckles to keep her in? It’s not like she’ll even have the coordination to escape for another two years…
Eventually, he manages it, however, and picks up the carrier by the handle; he sees now why Jason felt so awkward with it before, it doesn’t exactly feel convenient.
“…and that’s it,” the nurse is saying, while Jason nods.
I highly doubt that’s it.
He doesn’t say that out loud, though, if only for Jason’s sake; instead, he smiles and says, “Thanks for everything.”
“You take care now,” she admonishes. “The first week is hard on new parents.”
“No kidding,” Jason replies with a laugh that anyone else might call nervous, but which Tim recognizes as bordering hysteria.
Time to leave. “I’ve got no doubt we’ll manage. We’ve been in tougher situations.”
That seems to penetrate some of the panic the other man is working himself into. He blinks as if suddenly remembering who he is and how much they’ve survived.
“Yeah,” he agrees, a little shaky but surer. “We have.” He takes a deep breath, offers an actual attempt at a charming smile at the nurse, before turning to Tim. “We should get going.”
“We should.”
He still makes no move to take the carrier, but Tim doesn’t comment on it; he’s sure in the next days and weeks Jason will be easier around the baby. But right now, he’s not able to do it, and that’s the whole point to Tim being there.
They turn to leave, baby safely in her carrier between them; when the nurse calls out a parting, “Congratulations!”, Tim pretends he doesn’t notice Jason flinch.
⁂⁂⁂
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