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#is either that or bad weather... well find in the future. question mark?
microfeelings · 1 year
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I got c5 Noelle, Sayu, and One (1) Freminet. I'm good on pulling for the rest of this banner 👍
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dearest-kibble · 4 years
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Can I request headcanons for yandere Bakugou, Todoroki and Deku where they have been leaving their darlings voicemails proclaiming their love and whatnot and seeing as they're not reacting badly to it, their darling must be happy. Turns out they haven't heard any of it because they don't know how to access their voicemail
Oh gosh oh gosh I love this concept??? Thank you for requesting! 
Okay so,,, these get a little unhinged real quick because i am in a mood so!
Tw: Dacryphilia, degradation, stalking, yandere relationships, unhealthy relationships,  (Maybe?? just in case,,,) dumbification, lots of cussing (Thanks katsuki.) They’re all pretty abusive,,, Midoriya’s gets a little n/sfw-ish? Like just motions of moans but,, to be safe also panty stealing. I love these boys so much so i’ll make them terrible,,, as a treat.
All of these characters are third years!
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So here now, we have a temperamental one.
And no, it’s not Katsuki.
It’s Shoto.
Half cold, half hot.
He’s easy to anger. If you say the wrong thing, well you’re in for it.
But, he likes you.
You’re always smiling at him.
He knows that you smile at others but there has to be something to smiling at him, right?
People tell him he’s handsome, they tell him he looks good. Women ask for his number.
So you smile at him because you like him.
So he’ll dote on you a little.
He has your number. He paid someone for it.
And he’s been leaving you just about the nicest things he could.
He loves talking to you, even if he doesn’t quite feel comfortable talking to you face to face.
And he just loves telling you how sweet you look for him. How cute your voice sounds and how he just loves you.
“I’ll make sure to marry you one day. You’ll have anything you want.”
“You looked so sweet in that outfit today, once we’re married, I’ll get you something like it. Would you like that? I’ll make sure you have the nicest clothing for when you walk down the isle, goodbye.”
“Your voice is stuck in my head, I can’t wait until I can hear your voice all day in our house together. Goodbye, I can’t wait to see you.”
“When we have a child, you’ll be a wonderful parent. I love you, goodbye.”
“You’ll marry me, right? Goodbye darling, say yes.”
And well, Shoto wasn’t being told to stop, but you weren’t talking to him.
At all.
And so, he tries to ask you about it after class, in the dorms when you two are in the common room.
Luckily for Shoto, you’re the only one there.
You send him a quick smile as you see him sitting in the corner, before you return to stretching.
It makes his heart stop - just for a few seconds - before hastily standing up and walking towards you.  
“Why haven’t you said yes?” He’s got that intense sound in his voice, like it’s as important as finding a villain.
“Yes to what?” You’re still stretching as you look up into his eyes.
It’s clear to him that you don’t have a clue. And really, that shouldn’t make him angry. It’s irrational to think that you’ve been deliberately ignoring him. But who doesn’t check their voicemail?
“The messages I’ve left you, why haven’t you responded to any of them, don’t you love me?” Shoto feels as calm as ever.
You’ve stopped stretching. Expression blank as you attempt to process whatever is going through your head.
“Of course I love you!” And your smile is back. Shoto nods, of course you love him, he can give you whatever you nee- “You’re one of my friends!”
Oh.
“Oh.” Ice begins to melt beneath his flesh
“I don’t know what messages you’re talking about though, did you ask Sero for my number? Class notes, right?”
You can’t not know how to check your voicemail. No one is that stupid.
“The messages I left you. You must’ve checked them.”
“I’m uhh..” You laugh a little. Normally it’d make him blush. “I don’t know how to check them. Sorry Todo...”
“You know exactly what I am talking about.” The look you give him is nothing but confused.
“I... don’t, could you explain it to me?”
“You wouldn't need this explanation if you just talked to me.”
“Sorry Todoroki, I didn’t know you wanted to talk.” You’re a good actor, because there's no way you didn’t know he wanted to talk to you, to marry you.
“I’ll show you.” He grabs you hand and yank you off the ground. “Give me your phone.”
“Wha-” You shiver.
“Your phone. Give it to me.” You hand it over without hesitation. “Good.”
It doesn’t take long for him to find the messages he left. 
“How do you know my password?” He ignores your question.
He opens the most recent message he left. Just this morning.
“Good morning. I want you to know, that our marriage won’t be a quirk marriage. I can’t wait to see what you’ll look like in the dress i have picked out, I love you. Goodbye.” 
“Todo-” 
“Shoto. I’m going to be your husband.” 
“I- give me some time to process-”
“You have had plenty of time to process. So you must’ve been ignoring me.”
“I haven’t!” It’s adorable how desperately you try to lie. You’re quite good at it. 
“Be quiet.” His voice is devoid of emotion. “You can’t go around ignoring your future husband like that. Now we’re going to have a nice, long chat about this in my room.
“But Todoro-”
“You will call me Shoto.” He sends a flare of ice up your arm.
“Shoto! You’re name is Shoto and I-” Your free hand scratches desperately at the ice. 
“Desperately trying to get me to remove the ice.” He gives you a cold smile. “Once you really learn your lesson, that won’t happen again. Got it?”
You nod. Tears dripping down your cheeks. 
“You wouldn’t be crying if you didn’t ignore me.” He pets your hair. “Now, I’m more than a friend to you, right love?”
“Of course Shoto! I love you more tha-”
“Then smile like you do.” You look like you’re helpless with those tears in your eyes though. 
You try, you really do but this is where your acting prowess stops. It’s not a cute, sweet thing like normal. No, it’s ugly and contorted.
“Try again.” Practice makes perfect. “That isn’t what I asked for.”
You wipe your tears with your free hand. He should’ve frozen them both. You’d have to learn to rely on Shoto sooner or later. You take a deep breathe and fix your face into that adorable little smile you gave Shoto.
“Was that so hard?” He brings a chilled hand to your face to wipe away a tear that had gotten away from you. “Come, we’ll talk in my room. Once your arm melts, we’ll see if you’ve learned your lesson.” 
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Katsuki only has your number for study sessions, he swears.
Your friends don’t believe it no matter how loud he yells.
Probably for good reason.
You’re not doing nearly as poor as Kirishima in terms of grades, and you weren’t a bad note taker either. So the fact that Bakugou still invited you to study and the fact that he seemed a little extra harsh on you?
Your friends find it a little strange.
But Bakugou also calls Kirashima “Shitty Hair” so it’s not really out of character for him to tell you how much of a dumbs you are for getting from point A to B in a different way than normal. 
Hell, Bakugou does it the way too.
He tells you it’s because you’re “A shitty extra who’s just trying to be better than me!”
Which, to be fair, checks out with how he treats the rest of the class.
So he’s fine.
Your friends are just a little paranoid that’s all.
And he can understand that. After all, who wouldn’t want to protect you?
He even leaves you little messages. He thinks they speak for themself.
“You got bruised today when you were trying that shitty new move of yours. Be more god-damn carful next time!”
“Hey. Why aren’t you at our study sessions? Shitty Hair isn’t as stupid as you and he actually understands the material. I’m stuck here for another damn hour if you don’t- Oi! Pick up the fucking phone you shit head!”
“Fuck, I went a little far with the last message. I saw your new cut. Did you get it from a shitty piece of paper? You’re a fucked up excuse for a hero if you got beat by a piece of paper. Don’t worry doll, once I’m with you, I’ll kiss it all better.”
He leaves countless messages a day. 
You haven’t even thought about them he bets.
Your brain might as well be a cows, you’re so fucking stupid. 
“Oi! Cow brain! Talk to me.” He doesn’t dare drag you over. You’re still delicate even if you have the mental capacity of a shrew.
“One second Bakugou, I’m going to talk to Mr. Aizawa about mastering my quirk.”
You haven’t even figured out how to master your quirk? So fucking useless. But he waits for about fifteen minutes outside the door. 
“We need to have a study session.”
“Why? I’m doing pretty well, aren’t I?”
“Not with that stupid burn mark you got from sparring with the laser extra!”
“Aoyama?”
“Fuckin Aoyama.” Little blond bitch is trying to hurt you. 
“I’m fine Bakugou, i’m going to be a hero I should get used to a few cuts and burns, with the villain climate,”
“The fucks a villain climate?” You don’t even know that climate is used for weather. You really are a stupid pig. Someone needs to save your bacon, huh?
“The way villains are at the-” Damn your eyes look like a deers’
“I know what a villain climate is!”
“So, you pulled me aside to study, right?”
“At least you remember that.” Any smart person would’ve figured out that was a lie though. “But you’re a fucking idiot for thinking that was the case. You’ve been getting my notes, you know how fuckin worried I am about you getting hurt.”
“You worry about me getting hurt?” Your mind really did move like molasses. 
“Pretty fuckin slow on the uptake there sweetheart.” 
“You’ve been sending me messages?” Oh fuck. You’re even dumber than a cow. 
“Are you completely braindead? I’ve been calling you a dumbass for months,” 
“I don’t know how to open my voicemail, not my fault technology is confusing baku-”
“No one is that fucking dumb!” 
“Bakugou, you’re yelling.”
“No Shit?! I wouldn’t need to be if you actually understood anything that I’m telling you! It’s not that fucking hard to understand you just open your damn phone, and click on those stupid ass red icons on the phone app.” If you weren’t so delicate and in need of keeping safe, he’d punch you.
“Oh uhh- Bakugou? Did you mean to play these?”
“Fuck no I didn't.” Maybe he’s a little obvious. But not so obvious that you’d pick up on it.
“I uhh really think I love you? Maybe it’s cause you're such a fucking dumbs that I can’t stand that you get hurt. It’s painful to see. Shit. I hate that I love you. Just die already.” Katsuki in the phone sounds like he’s gone soft. Can’t have that.
“Bakugou, it isn’t very heroic to tell someone to go d-”
“That’s the thing your shitty mind picks up on?” You’re such a cute little doll. “I just told you that I loved yo-”
“Even more of a reason to report you. Two pro heroes shouldn’t have a relationship, it’s unprofessional.”
“Your stupid ass really thinks you’re gonna be a hero? You can’t even go a round with Aoyama without getting a burn. Nah baby, you’re gonna be at home, well protected and away so that you don’t have a chance to fuck something up.”
“I’m going to be a hero Bakugou.”
“I tell you that I’m gonna keep you at home, away from everything and everyone and you’re concerned with being a hero? Dumb as hell.” 
“Bakugou, you seem to be especially mean to me-”
“Fuck it. You wanna get a shitty Lunch Rush meal?” Oh it’d be so easy to drug you up. You probably don’t even think about people who might drug your food. You're just a stupid little doll.
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Midoriya really likes stalking you, okay?
You’re cute, a real old family friend and really sweet too.
You were absolutely ecstatic when his mom held that dinner to celebrate his quirk’s manifestation.
He almost told you the truth about All For One.
Big developments should be shared with the people you love, right?
Course he never really got your number cause he’s a little bit shy, but.
You won’t mind if he finds it in your house, right?
He’s been there countless times before, so it’s not like this is anything big or new or a groundbreaking development. 
It’s just, he’s here at night now, and you’re asleep. And so are your parents. 
But he’s quiet, don’t worry! He’s not gonna wake anyone up. It’s a hero’s duty to make sure that others are okay, and that includes getting the proper amount of sleep!
So he makes his way around your house with a nervous shuffle. 
How can he be calm when you’re sleeping just mere rooms away? It’s very distracting with you on the bed, just splayed out for him to watch and look at while you dream. 
Sometimes you moan. 
He likes to think he caused that.
He’s a little disgusted to think it, but he’s a little pent up. All the time
And you just look so cute on top of that bed-
But he came here for a phone number, and he’s gonna get one. 
Besides, he’s going to be the number one hero, a symbol of peace! He can’t sully All-Might’s legacy with dirty thoughts!
So he finds your phone charging on a chest of drawers in your room. 
After a few seconds of watching you sleep.
And oh you look good in a tank top and shorts, eyes closed and-
He picks up your phone to distract himself.
You were really trusting, weren’t you? You didn’t even have a lock on your phone.  
He’d hug you if you wouldn’t wake up from his cold skin.
He’d do more than hug you-
Nope, not gonna think about that and Midoriya hates himself a little for looking through your drawer to find where you keep your panties. 
There a lot of pairs to choose from, colored, patterned, laced... So many, pretty kinds of panties.
He settles for a pure, white pair. It’s plain. You won’t miss it.
After he pockets the guilt-inducing panties, he once again sets his sight on your phone.
Once again, he opens it, tries to find where you’ve put your contact information, and quickly duplicates it for his own device,
“Goodnight Bunny! Sleep well!” Oh what he wouldn’t give to kiss you goodnight.
After that, he decides to send you a few messages. They’re quick, innocent, sweet. He almost recorded himself cumming in your panties.
That morning, he wakes up bright and early, with even more energy than normal. He send you a good morning message, and moves on to stretch before class. 
He isn’t late but the only notes he can take in classes are those about your sleeping habits.
You snore, you like to sleep on your left side rather than your right, meaning Midoriya is the little spoon, and you like to sleep in tank tops which means Midoriya has to start wearing them.
When lunch rolls around, before Midoriya meets with Iida and Ururaka he sends you a quick update.
He should probably return your panties,
After he washes them, of course. 
He returns that night to your house with a notebook he’s decided to dedicate to you and your shared love story.
He checks your phone again and debates playing the recordings back to you in your sleep, or waiting for you to find his sweet surprise.
You’ve always likes surprises, you’d love one from him!
He looks at your panty drawer again.
It takes most of his willpower not to take another pair.
“Goodnight! Sleep well bunny!”
He makes a swift exit and leaves another message.
He repeats the process for several days and maybe it’s his imagination, but you sleep with a smile on your face now!
He wonders if it’s the returned panties that did it, or his messages.  
Sunday is date night for your parents, and it’s U.A’s day off. It’s like the stars have aligned themselves for Izuku Midoriya and your love.
He’s going to ask if you like his messages and if you’d like him to start texting you.
After five days of sneaking in the night, finally Izuku can knock on your door and see the light shining on your perfect face.
He knocks on the door, dressed in casual clothes. 
You answer in an All-Might hoodie and Izuku imagines it’s his All-Might hoodie.
“Oh! Hey Midoriya! Parents are out now, would you like to come in?”
“Oh uh! Yes please!” Even if he’d imagined this playing out so much, he can’t help the nervous tick of his hands. He’s so so close to you.
The door stays open until Izuku walks through, It’s nice to come in the front, and not a window.
You begin leading him towards the kitchen, hang a left out of the foyer. 
“I just started some chicken nuggets, hopefully I made enough for you,” You spin around suddenly. “I don’t know why, but I don’t think I have your number.”
That means you haven’t listened to any of his messages then? Izuku’s smile drops.
“Oh it’s nothing personal, I just never thought of giving it to you before, agues i should’ve considering how long we’ve known each other. I didn’t mean to make you look so sad Doriya, here its...”
Would he have to show you his messages? Would he have to make you see how much he loved you?
But that... sounded so violent! So villainous. It wouldn’t be right.
“Hey..” You put a hand on his shoulder. It fits perfectly. “You got that Doriya?”
“Yes!” His smile isn’t hard to regain with your hand so warm on him.
“Nuggets are done too! How many you want?”
“Oh, I’m actually, not- that hungry.”
“Any reason?”
“In my-” What did should he  — that’s got to work. “In my most recent work-study, there’s this case where someone is leaving voicemails to their targets,” But that makes him sound more villainous  than he wanted to.
“Oh shit really?” You look very cute with your wide eyes. 
“Uhm, yes?” It’s a terrible lie and anyone could pick it up if they weren’t so good and kind and trusting - and oh no.
It just had to make him sound like a villain.
“I’ve been getting some voicemails recently, and if it’s evidence or anything, do you need to take a look?”
“No,” He can feel the sweat dripping from his face. “It’s ah, fine?”
“Midoriya, if I have evidence and I don’t bring it in, wouldn’t that make me an accomplice?”
“Technically-” But if you knew they were from him why would you think they were an accomplice- you thought he didn’t have your number. 
You hadn’t heard those messages.
“Do you know is it’s evidence?”
“Well I can’t actually open m voicemail but if it’s anything, you can teach me, right?
“Of course!” He offers a hand to take the phone. “You just -” He taps a few things, “There!”
And you two listen to them. Izuku has such a big smile on his face.
“Good morning! I hope you feel great today! I’m going to do the best i can today, and i know you will too! I love you!”
“I’m about to at lunch, i wonder what you’re having. Maybe one day, we can cook together? Love you, have a nice meal!” 
“I’m about to get ready to come see you tonight, if you want to, stay up! I want to kiss you goodnight! Love you Bunny!”
“What is this?”
“I’m a little embarrassed, but it’s like the voicemails said! I love you, morning noon and night!”
“Midoriya, have you — oh god is that where my panties went?” The anger in your voice hurts him. “Get out.”
“Bunny I-”
“Get out of my house Midoriya. Before I call a real hero.”
“I love you!” 
“You don’t love me, you like my panties and an idea you’ve cultivated because we were never really that close.”
“I’ve known you since i was-”
“Yes, you have, but it’s our parents who are friends - not us. If we were friends, by now I’d call you Izuku.” And like that the notebook of his brain that’s pages were being torn out and stomped on were being sewn back in by a practiced hand.
“You can call me Izuku, if you want.”
“Midoriya, i’m telling you, get out and I won’t report you. You could get your license revoked. You don’t want that.”
“But-”
“Leave.” The way you stood your ground was very admirable. 
He makes a mental note, you are trusting, sweet, kind and headstrong. 
He can work with those. 
He’s suddenly glad he only returned one pair of panties.
He’ll get to visit you again real soon.
-- 
HOLY SHIT DID THAT TAKE FOREVER TO GET Through. I rewrote Shoto’s part five time but im pretty happy with it. Overall I think Bakuboi’s is the best.,., and Izuku,,, my poor deku,,, yours is.... interesting. Anyway thank you for the patience of the requester! And for also requesting these three lovely lads. Oh boy,,, time for some smut coming up... 
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poptod · 4 years
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hello! i'd like to make an ahkmenrah x reader request! maybe present-day reader gets teleported back in time to when ahkmenrah was alive and they eventually get to the palace and stuff happens? maybe they tell him about modern life? and maybe reader is unnaturally beautiful to the ancient egyptians because humans evolve to be more attractive as time goes on so a person from our time would be hot shit 4,000 years ago? this is long lmao. thanks!
Notes: god ive always wanted to do this kind of storyline but i was worried about like,, logic and stuff getting in the way of the storyline. anyway! i was so fucking elated to receive this request. i got a bit carried away so apologies! WC: 3.2k
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Okay. It isn't that bad.
Would you ever see your family again? Probably not, but you weren't ruling the possibility out.
Would you ever get to have sour patch kids again? Probably not. But even during the time you lived in 2020, you had eaten more concentrated sour patch kids flavor than all of the people around you combined.
This little village on the outskirts of ancient Thebes is hardly L.A.––though that's probably a good thing––and is small enough for you to know every inhabitant. Your shop there is small to suit the town, and well known ever since your arrival in this time.
They found you beside the river, thought you to be a gift from the Gods. You were hazy, though––whatever had so forcefully pushed you back in time had made your head spin, making you sick and unbalanced. So, when they asked if you did in fact come from the Gods, you had no way of defending yourself either way. Generally you've been denying it––they think you are a god, and the only way you've convinced them you're not a god is by saying you're a gift from them. It explains the way you look, unnaturally beautiful and alien amongst the more pure genetics of earlier humans.
Your shop is pretty simple. You make portraits from paint, more realistic than anything else that exists, and it only affirms their belief in your god-like status. Fortunately word seems to not have gotten out––the village has remained small, and no one from Thebes has run into you. Every now and then you get unreasonably anxious that a noble will find you and turn you into a slave. It's a worry most people around you have, so you find comfort in the fact that you're not the only one. Still, you're not quite accustomed to such an atmosphere––the thought of nobles and Kings noticing you still sends terrified aches into your stomach.
It's about two weeks in that it gets bad. People start to pass by the village, more than you would've thought, and they're all looking to trade goods, food, and information. The people of the village talk about you––you're something interesting, you can't deny that, but they don't know just how worried you are. Whenever you see someone you don't recognize outside your home, you refuse to come out.
Five days later and there's soldiers in your home, looking over your paintings on their way back to Memphis from conquering the realm of Kush. You hold a deep contempt for them––you don't know all that much about history, but you know how Egyptian soldiers and Pharaohs reigned power over the people of Kush.
The soldiers aren't all that worrying. What really gets your heart pounding is the final man to enter your hut; a man bearing a crown and a long sword, with golden braces around his wrists and a chest plated in green scales. Your fingers dig into the wood of your counter when he notices you. The crown on his head––it's the crown of both upper and lower Egypt.
This is a Royal.
"Where did you learn this skill?" He asks you, eyes trained on one of your bigger drawings. It's just on papyrus––not for sale––and hung on the wall as a display of your talent.
"I spent a little while travelling the world," you answer. Technically, growing up in the modern world was a bit like travelling the world; you got to see the cultures and practices of many, many people. "The rest of it's practice."
"The peasants here, they... they claim you came from the Nile. Is that true?"
"Well... that is where I was found," you say carefully, but you can already tell you've fucked up. The look on his face is indescribable beyond the fact that he's pleased.
"How would you feel coming back to the capital with me?" He offers to you, setting his hands on the counter and leaning forward. "I think my father would much like to meet you."
"I – I don't think I'm really cut out for -"
"Nonsense," he dismisses with a smile, taking your hand from its' spot on the wood. "We shall teach you proper writing skills, give you a beautiful home, and the salary isn't horrid either."
You can't just say no. If you do, he's going to ask questions––he's going to get confused, and he's going to get suspicious. No one would turn down an opportunity like this; free schooling, free housing, and much more money for something you already do.
"Well... alright," you say quietly, looking to the home around you that you built with the help of the other villagers.
"Wonderful. My name is Kamun."
He's not a very nice person, you come to find. Or perhaps he's just not your tastes––the soldiers seem to like him well enough, at least the ones who aren't completely subordinate to him, but his attitude towards women and poor people is scathing to say the least. Otherwise he's very amusing, with a good sense of humor and quite generous with his food and wine as long as he gets his fill of it first.
The boat back to Memphis, where the royal family currently stays, is a long ride filled with various entertainments. It's clear these are not soldiers accustomed to rough conditions––the dancing women and flowing beer is enough to tell you that. Instead, you surmise these are faux war-heroes; people adored in their hometown for doing nothing but intimidating others in a foreign country. They try to get cushy with you, soften you up to their words and touches. It doesn't work.
He keeps you close to him. You let him do it, sort of––it's better than telling him no. Better than starting a ruckus. Then again, avoiding a ruckus is what got you here in the first place, standing before the doors of the courtroom where a false God on earth rules the Nile.
"Father, I bring you a gift from Thebes," says Kamun, pushing you forward by the small of your back. You can't bring yourself to meet the Pharoah's eye, so you fall to your knees and bow.
Everyone is staring at you. You don't look normal, and they all know it, and you know it. You could cry from the heat of their eyes on your back.
One of Kamun's soldiers steps forwards, handing the Pharaoh and his wife several of the drawings they'd taken from you. Silence passes as the two scan your work.
"How did you achieve such a mirror of the human face?" The Pharaoh asks in a slow, deep voice that sounds as he looks––old, weathered, wise.
"They came from the Nile," Kamun answers for you, and murmurs take the crowd by storm. You, on the other hand, feel your heartbeat increase in massive increments, speeding your already uneven breath. "A gift from the Gods, the locals said."
"I can't – I am not magic," you rush out, hoping your clarification clears you of any responsibility to the Pharaoh. You know he rules everything––if he says you are to stay here, you have no choice, and you don't like it here. Too many people. "I cannot give you anything, my King."
"I think you're lying," says a voice, its' tone soft and a velvet low. It catches you off guard, brings you to raise your head and meet the eyes of someone you don't know; a young man dressed in gold beside the Pharaoh's throne.
You almost lose your breakfast as your eyes bulge, your mind instantly recognizing him and connecting the dots. You were, by far, not a historian, but you knew a fair amount of Egyptian history––namely a family in the Old Kingdom who was headed by the Pharaoh Merenkahre. The remaining statues and busts of the King and his son are astonishingly accurate, and there can be no doubt in your head.
That being said, there also can't be any reaction on your face. You try your best to reign your expression in.
"I..."
Actually, you do have something to offer now. You know the names––memorized the history, committed each event to memory, and now you can pull their lifestory off from the top of your head. Wouldn't that be valuable to a King; a seer of the future, to predict the rise and fall of the economy and the coming armies. Besides, you can't just say he's wrong. That'd be treasonous to them. So you have to agree you're hiding something, come up with an excuse as to why you hid it, and it proves harder than you thought. You're quickwitted, though––it got you away from the villager's wrath, and it will promote you to noble living now.
You hide a smirk beneath a calm expression as you address the younger prince.
"They gifted me foresight," you say quietly, pretending as though it hurts you to tell the truth, "but told me to never inform others."
"You are in the presence of Ra once more," the Pharaoh reminds you.
"And others," you point out. "I would... it would be better to discuss such matters.. in private."
Detailed information about already-past events is enough to sway him to believe you. The Pharaoh is surprisingly easy to convince, and with a few, meaningless predictions of the future, he gives you housing in his own palace. Kamun looks proud of himself––puffs his chest out in front of his father and earns no compliment. Ire laces his glare as it falls upon his brother, Ahkmen, praised for his ability to see through your obvious lie.
The Pharaoh asks his younger son to guide you to your room. Apparently it's closer to his room than it is to Kamun's, and evening is approaching fast. The walk there, while short, is marked by a conversation composed mainly of Ahkmen's questions and your answers. When the two of you reach your room, he doesn't leave––actually, he follows you in and locks the door.
There's nothing more terrifying than a man with unchecked power, and there is no one watching you.
No fail safe.
You gulp.
"I know you're still not telling the truth," he says, and though it dismisses several of your worries it still begs the question; how did he notice? "Just thought I'd spare you the embarrassment in front of my father, but my generosity ends there. Now I won't hurt you, and I won't tell anyone––I'm just curious."
Oh thank fuck. He's not going to rape you.
"I'm not Egyptian," you blurt out.
"Obviously," he interrupts, but you glare him into raising his hands defensively.
"I'm from the future."
He stares at you. For a minute. You know this because you count it––he just pauses right in his stance, doesn't move, and stares at you for a whole minute like you just told him you're made of gold.
"I'm sorry, what?" He says, laughter suddenly wracking his body.
"It's how I know what's going to happen to your family," you say, hoping he'll believe you. Otherwise this handsome, seemingly-nice man is going to think you're insane for the rest of time. "I studied your family for years as a side-hobby, I don't know how to predict the future for anything but you and your father."
His laughing pauses, or lightens at least; enough for him to say, "actually?"
"Yes," you say, completely serious. This seems to gain his interest once more. "You have to help me. I know at some point people are going to ask me questions about other things and I'm not going to have an answer."
"Just do what all our priests do," he says with a chuckle.
"What do they do?"
"Lie," he says. You can't stop the grin that spreads across your face from the stupid joke, and when he sees that a shit-eating grin spreads across his own face, delighted he could make you laugh.
"Yes, well... I guess I could do that," you mumble in a laugh.
"There's no need for you to worry. Now that I know the truth, I can help you," he says, offering you something that takes nearly all the anxiety out of your brain. After two days travel with a prince, it feels like it took 50 pounds off your shoulders.
"Thank you, so much," you chuckle in relief.
"Of course. I do have questions though, and I want you to answer them."
"Anything."
These questions of his, they come at all times––almost at a constant rate when he takes you on long walks, which he does often. He passes it off to his father as an interest in your beauty, and it apparently works. This little lie also helps you enormously in avoiding the romantic advances of many of the people you come into contact with. You're still not quite sure how it works, since Egyptians supposedly had a strong sense of patriotism, but you look rare and they idolize it. Every eye that falls upon you sees something beautiful, and you can't understand it.
At least Ahkmen is normal. He doesn't talk about you being beautiful. Ever.
And it kind of makes you sad.
"Would you say people on the whole are happier in the future or in the past?" He asks you, his words surrounded by the warmth of a summer day in Egypt.
Birds chatter loudly in the trees around you, singing in the humid air that marks the mating season for many of them. The flowers that surround you are already familiar––you thought it would take longer for you to commit the shapes and colors to memory, but here you are. Dressed in gold-laced silk and turquoise necklaces.
"I think the happiness of a population is dependent entirely on the circumstances surrounding it," you say. Sometimes your answers relate more to the human condition than the progress of time on the human race; he likes these answers, too, so you tell him exactly what you think. "Six thousand years from now, there are times of great misery. One is even called the Great Depression, but five years before that were some of the most prosperous times my country had ever seen. The same cycle is evident here."
"So.. great misery and great happiness come in waves?" He asks, pace slowing as he tries to understand what you're saying. You pause along the pathway, allowing him space to think.
"It's a pattern, actually. When the economy goes up, it will always come down. Recessions happen right after economical booms. And yes," you say before he can ask, "a time of unease will follow the prosperity of the current years. But it won't be for a time yet."
"Will it happen in my lifetime?"
He's murdered about three years from now. You think you might be able to stop it, but if you do, it'll alter history quite a lot. Either way, he wouldn't live long enough to see the recession the building of the great pyramids caused.
"No," you say. "But I'd prepare for it anyway, if only to keep your citizens safe."
"Of course. You... you are a great scholar," he tells you, resuming the slow walk down the shore of the Nile.
"Oh. Uh, thank you," you mumble as a blush fills your cheeks.
"What did you do in your time?"
"I was an artist, but I spent a lot of time giving lectures on the role of autistic people in ancient Egypt. Autistic people are often timekeepers," you say, and you know he'll figure out what you mean. Autistic isn't a term here, but many timekeepers of these ancient times were autistic, and considered highly by their societies.
"You might be able to give lectures again, if you'd like," he suggests. "People would come from far and wide to hear you speak. And you've got things to say that I know many scholars will find interesting."
"Mmm," you wince, "I kind of want to stay away from altering history too much."
"Oh, yes. My apologies," he says in a softer voice.
"It's alright," you say. "I'm glad you think I would be a good choice for that kind of thing, though."
He chuckles bashfully as he turns to the ground, scuffing his sandals as he walks.
Ahkmen is sweet––much sweeter than any of his family members, and you find yourself appreciating that every time you pass by his room. You pass his door often, always stopping a second to contemplate the tall, wooden doors. He's on the pathway between your room and the library.
Most of the time he's not in his room. Actually, you can usually find him in the library––there or outside in the markets or near the stalls. Today is different; he's been missing all day, and only when you walk the path back to your room do you hear his voice, talking to himself in his bedroom.
"They're bombarded with just such compliments, though. I can't – I can't stand out!"
"Or maybe you should, because you still haven't said a single thing yet and they probably think you're completely uninterested and that's why they aren't noticing you?"
"You and your... logic," Ahkmen spits.
"Come complaining when you kiss them under my advice."
As you attempt to peek through the crack in the door you stumble, knocking your hand against the wood. You barely hesitate before knocking again––cool and collected, smooth to slip into another lie.
"Oh! Hello, um – hi," he says awkwardly, slipping out of the room when he sees you. He quickly closes the door behind him, careful to keep you from seeing the other person in his room, but you can't bring yourself to care about the stranger.
Think of an excuse, why am I here?
"Oh, that's... I like your flower," he comments softly, eyes flickering between your eyes and the flower tucked into your hair. You'd forgotten about it, but raised your hand to touch the petals as you smiled. The perfect excuse
"Thank you. I thought you might like it, so I," you take it out of your hair and grab his hand, holding his palm upwards, "wanted to show you.. um, here."
Setting the flower in his hand, you curl his fingers around its' stem and push his hands back into his chest. He stares at you for a moment, confused by your strange behavior, but accepting of your gift anyway. You know him well enough now––he'd never decline a gift from you.
"A white iris," he tells you in a lofty tone. "A symbol of the dead. Funny it looks so lively on you."
You need to get out of here before your chest combusts.
"I need to go now, but I'll see you this evening, yes?" You ask, stepping instinctively closer. He doesn't back away.
"Of course. And, um," he takes your hands, keeps you where you stand as he slips the flower back behind your ear, "keep it. I want to see it on you at dinner."
He's close to you––close enough that it gets hard to distinguish his breath from your own, when you started holding his hand. When his other came up to your face. When he leans in and kisses your forehead. It's barely there, just barely, but there's no mistaking the soft plush, the affection clear behind gentle, precise movements.
You rush away the second he lets your hands go.
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wonder-womans-ex · 4 years
Text
‘Cause Boy I was Made for You
By wonder-womans-ex for @inloveoknutzy Sweater Weather secret santa exchange 2020
When Remus Lupin was eleven years old, he learned about soulmates. 
“Almost everyone gets a soulmark on their nineteenth birthday,” Mr. Holliday, his fifth-grade teacher, had explained. “A design, like a tattoo, on their left wrist. And out there, somewhere, someone will have a matching one.
“Some people don’t get them until later—no one knows why. Some don’t get them at all. It’s rare, but some people have more than one soulmate, or their soulmate changes. 
“Can anyone tell me why this might be?”
Trust a teacher to turn this into a lesson, Remus thought, and put up his hand. 
“Because people change, and the person who your soul matches could change, too?” 
“Very good, Mr. Lupin.” 
***
When Sirius Black was eleven years old, his parents kept him home from school. Instead, they sat him down at the dining room table—which was only ever used for special occasions; he couldn’t fathom why this might be considered one—and told him three things. 
“One,” Walburga said, bony fingers and long nails that reminded Sirius of talons drumming on the centuries-old wood, “your career comes first. Always. No matter who your soulmate turns out to be or how you feel about it, you are expected to make the choice that benefits yourself and your role in this family.” 
“Two,” Orion put in, “you are the only person who can prove who your soulmate is. If the reality is something that puts your future or your reputation at risk, lying is the best option. Remember, listen to your head, not your wrist.”
“Three—” this was Walburga again, “—your soulmark, when you get it, will remain covered at all times. No one else is permitted to see it. Are we clear?”
Sirius nodded. 
“Speak up!”
“Yes, Mother. Yes, Father.”
***
When Remus Lupin was thirteen years old, he had his first kiss. It was with a girl from his first aid course to whom he’d never really talked before, and it was wet and clumsy and didn’t taste very nice. In six years when he got his soulmark, he probably wouldn’t even remember her name. 
***
When Sirius Black was thirteen years old, he fell asleep in math class twice. He’d spent the entire night practicing—under his father’s instructions, of course—and the words in the textbook began to swim in front of his eyes. 
His mother slapped him across the cheek when she found out. Though he told no one for a very long time, that was when he started drinking coffee. 
***
When Remus Lupin was fifteen years old, he googled what if your soulmate doesn’t love you. 
***
When Sirius Black was fifteen years old, he found out what it was like to be famous. He enjoyed it, at first. There was so much to enjoy: the attention from his parents, the people who recognized him in public and smiled, and the hockey. 
The hockey was everything. 
He wouldn’t have thought so, but it was freeing, really, to be on the ice, doing what he loved, and know that the whole world was watching. It showed him he was enough—better than enough. He was the best. He’d been working towards being best his whole life, and now he finally got to feel good about it. What wasn’t to like about that?
Amycus Carrow, apparently. The first guy on his team to notice he was different. “Queer,” he whispered, as Sirius packed his gear up. 
Sirius wasn’t sure who he was trying to prove something to by sleeping with Janie Clearwater—Amycus or himself. 
***
When Remus Lupin was seventeen years old, he and his mom picked his little brother Julian up from daycare. Jules had a crude drawing of a star on his wrist in green washable marker. 
“My teacher has one! So I wanted one too!” 
Remus smiled, ruffling Julian’s hair. 
That night, he locked his bedroom door and looked up Sirius Black. Video after video of slapshots, passes, interviews, until he finally drifted off to sleep thinking that’s the sort of person I want to be loved by. 
***
When Sirius Black was seventeen years old, he had his first panic attack. He wasn’t sure what triggered it; he wasn’t sure how he pulled himself out, but he ran a thumb over the red marks where his fingernails had dug into his skin and tried not to cry.
***
When Remus Lupin was nineteen years old, everything went wrong. He woke up on his birthday to his wrist itching, and it took all his willpower not to look at it. He wasn’t quite ready yet. 
It was like Schrödinger’s cat, he reasoned—if he didn’t look, he couldn’t confirm what had been nagging at the back of his head for a while now. He couldn’t deny it, either, but it was better than nothing. 
Julian ran to hug him when he got downstairs, grinning to show off his gap-toothed smile. “I got you a present! Wanna know what it is?”
“I think,” Remus told him, “I’m about to find out anyway.”
Two weeks later, Fenrir Greyback approached him in the locker room. 
***
When Sirius Black was nineteen years old, he found himself signed to an NHL team he wasn’t supposed to be on and with a soulmark he could make neither head nor tail of: a silver wolf and black dog, intertwined like yin and yang, two crossed hockey sticks behind them. He remembered, distantly, being told that soulmarks were meant to make sense. 
The black dog was probably meant to represent him—black dog, dog black (he still hadn’t forgiven his parents for that one)—and the hockey sticks almost definitely had something to do with, well, hockey, but the wolf he had no idea about.  
***
It is now that these two stories meet. There is a split second, a fraction of time, and it seems as though the whole world is holding its breath. Will their paths cross, only to continue on their separate ways? Will they travel together for a time, before they are destined to part once more?
“Hello,” says Remus, and when Sirius holds his hand out coldly, their fate is decided. 
***
“Pots, c’mere a second!” 
Sirius is happy, almost. He’s got the team—he’s one of them, now, really and truly, but there’s something still off. He knows what it is, but he doesn’t want to. 
“I’m coming, Captain! Keep your head on!”
James comes to a stop in front of him. “Hi. What do you need?”
“Please poke Dumo.” A few of the guys chuckle, and this makes Sirius smile. He likes making other people laugh. 
“What, and you needed me for that? You couldn't do it yourself?”
Finn walks into the room, then, jersey half on. “Why do it at all? What did poor old Dumo do to you, anyway?”
“Yeah,” Pascal says from where he’s sitting by his locker. “Respect your elders!”
“Elder, you say? Edging on retirement, are you?”
“Tais-toi!” 
Glancing over to Remus, Sirius allows the barest flicker of a smile to pass over his face. He gets one in return. 
“Alright, everyone get moving,” Coach tells them, opening the door and surveying where they’re all arranged, faces like guilty puppies. “You’re paid to play hockey, not sit on your asses and gossip. Practice starts in five minutes, or you run laps around the outside of the rink. In skates.”
Most of them groan, and Kasey downs a Powerade. “Well, boys, that’s my cue.”
James is the next to go, then Finn, then Logan. Leo and Talker continue their argument—something about George Harrison; Sirius isn’t really listening—out onto the ice, and Adam follows them with Olli and Nado close behind. Dumo winks at Sirius before he goes, too, and then it’s just the two of them. 
“What did he do?” Remus asks, after Sirius has laced and relaced his left skate three times. “Dumo, I mean.” 
“Nothing much. Just… well, if you must know, he put shaving cream in the fridge, once. Guess what I had on my waffles that morning.” 
“Waffles aren’t on your diet plan.”
“It was last year.”
“And you waited until now to get James to poke him?”
He knows Remus can see right through him. He always can. “Never question the methods of a hockey player, Loops.”
He meant it as a joke, but Remus stiffens for some reason, jaw clenching and eyes darting away. There’s an awkward pause before Sirius says, “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be.” 
“Right.” He clears his throat, trying in vain to find something else to say. He would be lying if he said Remus didn’t mean something to him—he knows it. But, after all, knowing something and acknowledging it are two very different things. 
Sirius runs the laps. 
***
That night, after practice, Remus is about to head for the bus station when Sirius steps in front of him. He’s walking backwards, even with his hockey bag slung over his shoulder, and Remus isn’t ashamed to say he’s a little impressed. (From a purely objective point of view, of course. It has nothing to do with Sirius and everything to do with the skill it would take, hypothetically, to do such a thing.) (He’s not fooling anyone, least of all himself.) 
“Want a lift?”
“You don’t even know where I live.”
“Well, we’ll just have to fix that.”
Remus rolls his eyes; he pretends to think about it. “All right,” he says, finally. “On one condition.”
“Which is?”
“I get to choose the music.”
Sirius lets out one loud ‘ha!’  It’s the most beautiful thing Remus has heard in a long time. (That would go well: “Oh, I’ve changed my mind. No need to put on the radio, I’ll be content if you just keep laughing.”) (There’s a reason people like him are off to the side, out of sight, instead of right in the spotlight with a microphone.)  
Remus is glad that Sirius waits until he’s parked outside Remus’s apartment building to bring up their earlier conversation. It says something that they say “So, about this evening—” in unison, but Remus isn’t going to think about that. 
“You go first,” Sirius tells him, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “Please.”
“I suppose,” Remus says, slowly, “That I haven’t quite been honest with you. Any of you. I wasn’t always a PT.”
“Of course not. You’re my age. You can’t have always worked for the Lions—before that you were a teenager. A student.”
Remus shakes his head. “No. Before that I was a player.” 
“You played? Why’d you stop?”
“Bad hit,” he says, shrugging. “I’m over it. But I… I know what it’s like. The pressure. The rules. So, if you need someone to talk to… just remember—I know what the game does to a guy. You’re not the only one who’s been told to be something you aren’t by someone who forgets you’re a person off the ice, too.
“See you tomorrow, Cap. Thanks for the ride.” 
***
Sirius is probably the one person in history who has managed to burn eggs without even turning the stove on. 
“How on earth did that happen?” James asks when Sirius phones him. 
“I dropped them into the toaster—hey! Stop laughing! It could happen to anyone!”
“Yes,” he hears from the other end of the line, “But it didn’t. It happened to you.”
It takes exactly two minutes and thirty-seven seconds after hanging up on James for Sirius to decide to call Remus. Cooking failures might not have been quite what Remus meant when he said Sirius could talk to him, but it’s the problem at hand right now. 
(Remus laughs just as hard as James, but at least he has the decency to apologize for it afterwards.) 
“Well,” he says, once he’s calmed down, “What are you going to eat now?” 
“I’m not sure. Cereal?”
“Practice is in two and a half hours. You need more than that.”
“I’ll be—”
“If you end that sentence with ‘fine,’ I’ll take the laces out of your skates and strangle you with them. Do you want me to walk you through, I dunno, a pancake?” 
“Sure. What do I need?”
“Flour, butter, eggs, milk…”
Twenty minutes later Sirius is left with milk on his shirt, flour in his hair, butter practically everywhere else, and a microwave that won’t start. 
“I think,” he tells Remus, “I should have cereal.”
“You are going to eat a pancake if it’s the last thing I do—”
“Why don’t you just come over here and make it for me, then? I’m sure you’ll have more success.” 
He holds his breath for a moment, hoping this wasn’t a step too far, before Remus responds. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll be over in… half an hour?” 
“Sounds good.” 
Click. 
The instant the call is over, Sirius opens the freezer and grabs one of the popsicles he secretly has stashed there. They’re not part of his diet plan, but he needs one. Then he takes a sponge and starts trying to get the butter out of the sole of his shoe. 
***
The first thought that crosses Remus’s mind is that Sirius’s tongue is purple from one of the popsicles he thinks no one knows about. If Remus kissed him, he’d probably taste like grapes. (The thought is banished from his mind the moment it enters.) 
“So,” he says, surveying the damage. “I am going to teach you how to make a pancake.” 
Sirius, it turns out, is infinitely better at following instructions when they’re simple, and the two of them work out a system quickly. Remus makes the pancake, Sirius gets the ingredients. It works. 
“That’s salt, not sugar. Try again.”
(Most of the time, at least.)
 “Really?” Sirius is squinting at the package. “Why doesn’t it say so?”
“It does. Right there.” 
“How am I supposed to read that?”
“You need glasses, Cap.” 
“I have glasses. I just never wear them.” 
“What?” This is news to Remus. Visions of Sirius with glasses and bed hair are swimming in front of his eyes. “Why?” 
A shrug. “I look stupid.” 
“I’m pretty sure you’d be drop-dead gorgeous in anything.” 
There’s a beat of silence. Remus realizes that, yes, he said that out loud. “I mean, all those fangirls certainly seem to think so.” 
“Right. Yeah.” Sirius clears his throat. 
“Anyway, pancakes! I think these are almost ready to cook—can you turn on the element?”
“The what now?” 
“The element? The coil on the stove?” 
“Should’ve just said that in the first place,” Sirius grumbles. “Fucking Americans.” 
“Fucking French.” 
Suddenly, Remus has a spatula pointed at his nose. He has to cross his eyes to see it properly. “Say that again; I dare you.”
“Fucking French?”
“Awright, that’s it! En garde, bitch!” 
And so begins the great whisk-vs-spatula duel of 2020. There is very little batter left once they’re done—in the bowl, at least. Most of it is on their clothes. 
They look at each other. “Cereal?” 
“...Cereal.” 
***
Kasey’s eyes go wide—almost comically so—when they show up to practice together. 
“Cap giving rides?” He says, and Sirius isn’t sure what accent he’s trying to fake but he ends up sounding like a scandalized duchess from the movie adaptation of an Austen knockoff. (Maybe that is what he was going for. It’s hard to know, with Kasey.) “I thought the day would never come.”
“Shut up.” 
“Make me.”
Remus’s elbow digs into Sirius’s rib cage. “You don’t want to say that. He tried to make me shut up this morning—it’s something I’ll never recover from.” 
Sirius almost laughs at the expression Remus makes when he realizes exactly how that sounds. 
“He dumped pancake batter down my shirt!” 
“You didn’t!” The look on James’s face is aghast. “First the eggs, now this—what will people think?” 
Finn looks up from his phone. “Eggs?” 
“Sirius here dropped the eggs he was going to eat for breakfast into his—”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” 
Dumo slings an arm around his shoulders. “The price you must pay for telling James to poke me yesterday. Learn from this, mon fils. Learn.” 
“Don’t tell me what to do, old man.”
“Treachery!” 
Shrugging him off, Sirius grins. “I am the kitchen monster. Cross me and I will slaughter you in a food war.”
“Try me.” This is Logan speaking; Sirius hadn’t even realized he was there. 
“You’ve been warned!” 
***
“Look, there are twenty-two hockey players in this arena, and I ain’t one of them,” Moody says, and Remus can’t be sure, but he thinks Sirius looks at him. 
***
“You’re favouring your right leg,” Remus comments as soon as Sirius is off the ice. “Want me to take a look?”
“It’s fine, really—”
“I’ll try again. Want me to take a look?” 
“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Loops.”
“That’s what I thought you said.”
They walk into the PT room in businesslike silence, Sirius hoping all the way that one of them will break it. Neither does, and it isn’t until Remus has taken off both his skates for him, now expertly examining his left ankle, that he realizes what he should say. 
“You mentioned you played, last night.”
The finger tracing his Achilles tendon stills. “I did.” 
“Were you any good?” He knows, somewhere, that he’s entering forbidden territory. He can’t bring himself to care. 
“I’d like to believe so.”
“Be honest.” Sirens are blaring in his head. He keeps going. 
“There were rumours…” Remus bites his lip, glances away. “People said I was set for first.”
“What? How come you never said anything? C’mon, you need to play with us sometime, just scrimmage or something—”
“Maybe. That hit…”
“Right. God, I’m sorry, Rem.”
If Remus’s Adam’s apple bobs at the nickname, Sirius doesn’t notice. He certainly doesn’t try his best not to jump to conclusions. (Double negative; that’s a yes, a voice that sounds suspiciously like James’s says in his head. Shut up, he tells it.)
“It’s fine. Really. I just don’t like talking about it. And besides, I like this. Working with the team, even if I can’t be a part of it.”
“You are. A part of the team, I mean. Just as much as I am.”
“Sure.”
There’s another awkward pause before Remus clears his throat. “So, I’m gonna put on some anti-inflammatory gel because it’s a little swollen, but don’t get used to it. I want you to keep doing some stretches, not too much pressure. Capeesh?”
“What the fuck is a capeesh?”
“Just say it.”
“...Capeesh?”
“Awesome.” 
Remus leans forward towards him, their foreheads almost touching. Sirius’s breath catches. 
It’s over just as suddenly. The tube of extra-strength Voltaren is in Remus’s hand, and Sirius feels stupid for thinking he was going to—
Nope. Not thinking about that. 
When he feels tears start to prick at his eyes, he glances up at the fluorescent lights overhead; at least then he’ll have an excuse. There’s a moth resting on one. Its wings flutter once, twice, then go still. Fragile things, moths are—maybe it’s died, maybe it hasn’t. He could read into that, but he won’t. 
He jumps when the cool of the gel on Remus’s hands touches his foot. “Hey!” He yelps, looking quickly down. 
Sirius hates to succumb to cliches, but he would be lying if he was to say his heart doesn’t still. 
Because Remus has pulled the sleeves of his jacket up to his elbows, and his wrist is turned to the sky—to Sirius, who has seen that mark before somewhere. 
Somewhere. He’s kidding himself. He’s seen it every day whenever he bothers to look at his own soulmark, and he’s seeing it again now. 
“You know what, I’m fine,” he blurts out, shaking his ankle out of Remus’s grasp. “Thanks, though. See you later, Loops.” 
***
Remus stays there for a second, watching Sirius leave. He doesn’t know what he did wrong, and he’s not sure he wants to. 
When he gets up to leave, tossing the container towards the first aid kit on the bench and allowing himself a small smile when it lands perfectly inside, blood rushes to his head. He closes his eyes, waiting for the dizziness to pass. 
And then he crashes into Finn. 
“Whoa, sorry,” Remus says, stumbling backwards.
“Nah, don’t stress it. There’s just something I want you to check on.”
Remus is hit by a sense of deja vu. He wonders if Finn, too, is going to leave without explanation. He follows him back into the PT room, Finn gesturing for him to lock the door. 
Though he may be the shorter of the two, Remus knows it’s his job to be the bigger person. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”
Finn waits another moment before yanking one sleeve up to reveal three paw prints, each no bigger than a thumbnail, clustered together—one forest green, one golden, and one a deep navy blue. 
“Your soulmark.” Remus doesn’t understand. “What? Is something wrong?” 
“There’s three of them,” Finn says. “Which means there’s three of us.”
“You have two soulmates?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s fine, Finn. It may not be common, but it’s not unheard of. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of.” 
“It’s not that. It’s… hey, you can’t tell anyone this, okay?”
“I know. Doctor-patient confidentiality, remember?”
“Right.” Finn takes a breath, squeezing his eyes closed. “What if I told you I know who they are? Or I think I do?” 
“Hypothetically?”
“Hypothetically.”
“Well, I’d ask you if they knew.”
“And I’d say I don’t think so. One of them’s pretty stubborn—wouldn’t see love if it stood up on the ice and sang the national anthem—and the other isn’t nineteen yet, so he doesn’t—I mean wouldn���t—have his mark yet.” 
“His?”
Finn’s eyes widen. There is a pause before he nods, slowly. “Yeah. Got a problem?”
“Trust me, I’m the last person on earth who’d have a problem with something like that. Hypothetically.” 
This, at least, earns Remus a smile. “Are you…?”
“Yeah.” 
“Cool.” Another pause. “What if I told you, still hypothetically, that they were both on the team?” 
“Then I’d say get the fuck out of here and win them over before they start thinking you’ve forgotten about them.” 
Finn, smiling ear to ear, starts to leave. “Wait,” he says, hand on the doorknob. “You said you were…”
“Gay.”
“Yeah. Do—do you know who your soulmate is?”
Remus opens his mouth to say ‘no.’ He really does. But what comes out—when he takes into account the look of recognition on Sirius’s face when Remus had his sleeves rolled up; the understanding that had passed between them outside Remus’s building (god, that was just last night); the way they’ve always just clicked—is most certainly not ‘no.’ 
“Oh, fuck, I think I do,” he says, and he and Finn run out into the hallway together. 
Sirius’s car is pulling out of the parking lot when Remus arrives, out of breath, at the front doors of the arena. 
“I don’t know why he’s in such a hurry.” Remus jumps. He hadn’t heard James come to stand beside him. “Just packed up his gear at the speed of light and left. Didn’t even shower; he said he’d do it at home.”
So Sirius had been so appalled—disgusted, even—at Remus being his soulmate that he’d left without explanation, with barely even a goodbye. There was a pleasant thought. 
He turns so his back is against the door, sliding slowly down to sit on the floor. 
“Y’know,” James says, sitting next to him, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you needed a hug.”
There’s a moment of comfortable silence before Remus says, “James?”
“Yeah?” 
“I need a hug.” 
James gives the best hugs. Everyone says so. But until now, Remus has never been on the receiving end of a true James Potter hug—warm, strong, and friendly as hell. (“I want that on a t-shirt,” James says when Remus tells him so.)
But eventually, James has to go, too, and Remus heads back to the PT room. He passes Logan in the hall, looking like he’s been hit over the head with a two-by-four. Maybe it’s Finn’s doing; he had mentioned that one of them was oblivious. Logan, Remus knows, is the definition of oblivious. 
***
“And I think that’s all,” Coach Weasley says, glancing around, “Unless anyone else has something to say? Moody? Cap? Loops?” 
“Actually, yes,” says Remus after a moment. “Checkups! Not naming names but Kris lied about his rib acting up so now all of you get to be interrogated.” 
Sirius swallows. He’s not anxious to be alone with Remus; not after yesterday. There’s no way there aren’t going to be questions. 
Kasey goes first, Remus taking just under five minutes to deem him ‘good to go.’ Kris, surprisingly, is only kept for eight, despite the claim of his ribs acting up again. Finn takes the longest—fifteen minutes—and as soon as he’s out he grabs Logan and Leo by the wrists and marches them off somewhere. Sirius’s turn comes last, right after Pascal’s, who gives him a knowing look as he enters.
“Hi,” Remus says, first aid kit nowhere in sight. “Sit down.” 
“Where?” Sirius gets only a shrug in response. 
He hesitates a moment, then sits on the floor, picking at the sole of his sneaker. 
“How are you feeling?” Remus asks suddenly.
“Fine. Ankle’s not bothering me any more.”
“No, I mean how are you feeling?”
Scoffing, he starts to stand up. “I’m not doing this.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.” 
“Sirius Black, sit your ass back down before I make you.” 
Sirius sits his ass back down. 
“Good. Now, how are you feeling?” 
“I’m… confused,” he says, trying to be honest without being specific. “And nervous. And I cried myself to sleep last night, which I haven’t done since I was like seventeen, so there’s that. But mostly I’m just really fucking mad.” 
“At me.” It isn’t a question. 
“No, not at you! At me! At the—” he gestures wildly. “—Universe, or whatever. Can I go now?” 
Remus doesn’t even acknowledge his request. “So you’re disappointed.”
“...Yeah.” 
“May I ask why?” 
“I’m pretty sure you fucking know why.” 
“Maybe I do. But I’d like you to explain it to me.” 
The stupid thing is that Sirius wants to talk about it. He really does. And Remus is the only person he can conceivably talk about it to. But he still chokes on his words when he says, anger burning his throat, “It was never supposed to be like this.” 
“What do you mean by that?”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Sirius practically screams. “Stop trying to fucking— psychoalalyze me or something, for fuck’s sake. You fucking asked, and I—” He tears his fingers through his hair, feeling his chest start to constrict. “Just stop talking!” 
The echoes of his shouts fade out too quickly, and the only thing worse than the voices is the sound of his breathing getting faster and faster. Remus’s hand twitches, as though he wants to touch him but thinks better of it.
“It was always supposed to be someone different. Someone faceless; nameless. Someone I could run away from. I can’t fucking run away from you, Remus.
“I always thought I could lie. That I could—pretend, or something. Just keep hiding. It was supposed to be someone I could hide from, because I’ve spent my whole life fucking hiding and that’s all I know how to do. It was never supposed to be someone I could fall in love with.” 
There’s a choked noise from where Remus is sitting on the bench, but nothing else. Sirius refuses to look at him. 
“And I just—I just fucking hate this, because all I’ve been told is that hockey comes before my dreams. And that’s made sense until now because until now hockey was my dream, but now there’s you. Yeah.” 
Remus, to his credit, waits until Sirius’s breathing has calmed down and he’s furiously wiped the tears from his eyes to speak. “What do you need?” 
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean forget everything. Forget your family, forget the team, forget me—what do you need?  
“Right now? For the rest of my life? Because those are two very different things.” 
“Let’s start with now. Can I do anything for you? Can you do anything for yourself?” 
“I need a hot chocolate.” 
***
They wait until everyone else has gone, and then make their way outside to Sirius’s car. There’s only one other in the parking lot—a grey Toyota Remus thinks belongs to Nado, or maybe Kris. He’s not sure why he thinks it matters, because it doesn’t. 
Silence hangs around them the whole four blocks to the nearest Tim Horton’s. Inhale; exhale. Inhale; exhale. This doesn’t necessarily mean anything. 
That doesn’t stop Remus from hoping. 
He knows it’s wrong; of course he does. It’s Sirius’s choice, in the end, because Sirius is the one who will be most affected. His career, his life—all on the line if he decides to trust whatever plan the world has in store for them. It’s not like that for Remus. Not anymore. 
There’s a parking spot right outside the front door. Sirius pulls into it, but he doesn’t get out right away. He glances around, makes sure there’s no one immediately in sight, and then he looks down to where his hands now rest in in his lap. Slowly, he pulls up his right sleeve to expose, bit by bit, his soulmark. 
“I don’t know why I never guessed it could be you—Wolfy McWolf Wolf.” 
Remus feels his lips twitch upwards into something resembling a smile. “I could say the same, Dog Black.” 
When he puts his hand on the console, Sirius rests his on top of it. It’s not much. 
But it’s something. 
***
Sirius looks longingly at the Boston cream doughnuts. “Please. I haven’t had one in so long.” 
“Think again, Mr. I’m-on-a-diet-plan.” 
He’s not surprised. What was he thinking, having his PT as his soulmate? (Well, he wasn’t. He didn’t get to choose. But, he thinks to himself, the point still stands.) 
“I’ll have a medium hot chocolate, please, a plain toasted bagel,” Remus looks at him and sighs. “...And a Boston cream doughnut.” 
When the food is set down on the pickup counter, Remus snatches it before Sirius has a chance to. “Hey, this is my doughnut.” 
Sirius pouts. 
“You’re cute. Here.” He tosses him the brown paper bag, and Sirius removes his prize carefully. He‘s going to eat every piece of chocolate glazing if it kills him. 
Back out in the car—this is a conversation neither of them is willing to have in the public dining area—Remus chews on his bagel thoughtfully. Sirius tries and fails not to swear when his hot chocolate burns his tongue.
“Shit!” 
Remus glances over at him. Their eyes meet for a moment, then both look away. “So,” Sirius says after a while. “I think we need to talk.” 
“Yeah.” 
Silence, then—
“You go first,” they say at the same time, and laugh. Some of the tension is broken. 
Sirius reaches hesitantly to where Remus’s arm rests between the seats. He doesn’t need to voice his question—Remus sees it in his eyes; nods. 
Up close, he can see that there are a few differences between their marks. Nothing that could possibly mean they aren’t soulmates—just the discolouring on the dog’s tail; the angle of one of the sticks; the faded white gash that stretches from one side of Remus’s wrist to the other, separating the wolf’s head from its body. Sirius doesn’t quite know what he’s doing when he presses his lips to the scar. 
When he looks up, he sees that Remus is trying not to cry. And that’s when he makes his decision. 
“I want this,” he says, voice soft but sure. “All of it.”
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So you guys are never going to guess what I just did.
I might possibly be writing a tww fic (FOR REAL THIS TIME I PROMISE) and I just finished the first little snippet so I thought I’d share that with y’all!
It’s going to be several chapters, each one from the POV of a different senior staff member, basically just a random collection of scenes where everyone Works Out their Issues. Official summary= The senior staff + Donna think about the past, how far they’ve come, heartbreak, hard times, sleep deprivation, and what family means to them over a ginormous bowl of popcorn.
(Part backstory headcanons, part character study, part found family, part random other shit?? I have no clue where this came from tbh. Anyway enjoy this rambly dumpster fire) (the popcorn is figurative)
Part one is Sam, and I’m sure none of you are surprised 😋 Enjoy!!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Samuel Norman Seaborn was a kid, ‘I want to be a lawyer when I grow up’ was one thought that didn’t cross his mind, not even once. Which is saying something, because little Sam had a lot of thoughts. He had opinions about everything, even things he didn’t understand (especially those) and he had ideas, big ideas that everyone said were going to change the world one day, and he had an imagination the size of the Chrysler building and not enough room in his head for all the stories he wanted to tell. Everyone liked Sam. He was easy to like. At least, until he got a little older and suddenly his imagination was distracting instead of endearing and his ideas were silly instead of helpful and the big books he liked to read were taking time away from more important things. It didn’t make sense to him, because he had always thought they were the most important things in the world, but one day when one too many teachers had commented on it and one too many other children had teased him for it, he sat himself down at his desk and told himself he wouldn’t be like that anymore. Sam decided he wouldn’t be the dreamy one with his head in the clouds anymore. He would be focused, and dedicated, the model student and son.
So somewhere in middle school, Sam Seaborn changed from the cheerful, somewhat dazed and forgetful child he had been into the most intensely focused little academic his teachers had ever seen. Focusing was usually...hard, for Sam. At least, focusing on the right thing. His mind wanted to go in so many different directions and think about so many different things, and none of them were what he should have been focusing on. But he found that if he worked really hard and forced himself to think about one specific thing, then he could usually achieve it. Homework and such wasn’t exactly what he was passionate about, but it was what his parents wanted, and what everyone else around him seemed to want, so he did his best.
He worked hard through high school and when he graduated, he got accepted to Princeton. Sam loved Princeton. He loved everything about it. He started working hard because he liked it, and not because he thought other people wanted him to. He worked towards his law degree, and he got it.
(He never did stop writing, though. It was like a disease. No matter where he was or what he should have been doing, he could never make himself not write.)
There was a bit of a gray area after that, and more than one bad decision, but then he got the job at Gage-Whitney. And Gage-Whitney was...well. He was good at it. It paid well. He kept working his way up the ladder until he made partner, and wasn’t that everyone’s dream? Shouldn’t he love his job? Maybe he should have. He didn’t.
Then there was Lisa, and he couldn’t decide if she had been a mistake or not. He had liked her an awful lot; even loved her. She had been quite fond of him too. It had been real. Once. He remembered nice dinners and radiant smiles and the joy of having a partner who was as smart as you.
God, what happened to us? He’d think sometimes, but it was stupid, because he knew exactly what had happened to them. Sam had quit his job and gone running off to New Hampshire with Joshua Lyman. He’d tried to build a presidential campaign from scratch, then actually managed to accomplish it, which was somehow even worse for their relationship because then he was zipping all over the country without a minute to spare and he told himself he called whenever he could but it wasn’t enough and he knew it. Whenever they did get to see each other, there was a...distance, that there never had been before. Eventually Lisa would say something passive aggressive about how apparently Josh Lyman meant more to him than she did, and Sam would get defensive and mutter something about how he never complained when she always went off to fancy bars with her fancy friends every other night, and she would bark out an incredulous laugh because of course he would find a way to insult her friends when he was the one who had left her in the dust, because wasn’t that just the kind of person he was!
It hurt even more because they cared, they both cared. A lot. But in the end, it didn’t matter, because Sam chose the campaign and she chose to stay and there was nothing they could say to change each other’s minds. Her eyes had gotten big and wet and angry, and he had been numb, staring out at nothing. That was the night she gave him back the ring.
But he tried not to think about it too much now. It was a sure-fire way to ruin his day. Or week, more likely.
“Did you know that supposedly the shortest telegram correspondence in history was between Victor Hugo and his literary agent?” he asked. He was sitting at one of the desks in the bullpen, hunched over some files that he really didn’t want to read. It was one of those days, where there was a lot to do but a lot of time to do it, so you ended up doing anything but what you were supposed to do. One of those days that felt lazy and slow when it shouldn’t have been.
Josh was leaning against an office door frame across from him. “Really.”
“Yeah.” he flipped through some of the papers absently. “To ask how the book sales were doing he just sent a question mark. The guy sent back an exclamation point. And all I’m saying is if Victor Hugo himself could restrain his verbosity like that, then just maybe the guys writing these files could-” he paused as Josh wandered over, resting his forehead against the back of Sam’s head and wrapping an arm around him from behind. “What?” Sam asked.
“Nothing.” Josh chuckled. “You’re just a huge dork.”
“Oh.” He rolled his eyes. “Just part of my charm, I guess.”
“In that case, you are extremely charming.”
“Ha ha.” Sam looked over as Josh slid into the desk chair next to him. “Hey, did CJ say how the briefing went? I was on the Hill all morning.”
Josh shrugged. “It was fine. They were all just asking about whether Jancowitz was going to sink the healthcare bill with his insistence on antagonizing what’s-his-name at the DOD.”
“Ah. Should we send someone to smooth that over?”
“Yeah, you can put Ainsley on it. I’m not too worried.” A problem for another day, then. Josh leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on the desk in front of him. “It’s supposed to keep snowing all night.”
“They said that the last two times it snowed.”
“I think they’re right this time!” Josh protested, tapping the side of his head. “It’s my flawless intuition as an outdoorsman.”
Sam laughed. “At this rate, we could put you on the Weather Channel. You’d be just as accurate as all of those guys.”
“Mmm. With their track record, I could be their boss by next Tuesday.” He squinted at something for a minute before hopping up. “Well, I should probably go work on my thing before Leo has an aneurysm. I’ll come see you later about the environment?”
“Yeah, see you.” He sighed, staring down at the papers while Josh went back to his office. After a minute, he just shook his head and stood up, gathering them in his hands and retreating into his own office. Sam unceremoniously dumped the files onto a shelf, settling into his desk chair. They could be read another day.
Straightening his glasses, he popped open his laptop on the desk in front of him. He tried typing out some remarks for the President’s conference next week, but didn’t get very far. He wandered over to his email, and replied to a few people who had asked him questions.
I should write my dad, he thought absently. It had been a while since his last email. The thing was, thinking about his father in any capacity was Sure-fire Way To Ruin His Week Number Two.
It was...complicated. Sam had never had the best relationship with either of his parents to begin with. They had always been busy, and now he was always busy, and he supposed that it was possible he had lost far too many important things in his life due to people being busy. It didn’t even sound like a good excuse.
His mother was a brilliant, industrious woman who had grown up poor and worked so hard to get their little family off the ground that there was little else left of her now. At least, that was how he’d always felt. She’d always been so caught up in working to secure his future, and seemed to not have time for him in the meantime. Oh, she had tried, but she was always on a phone call or an extra shift and so it had usually just been him and his dad at the house when he was little.
It made his blood boil to think about it too long. Sam had never been close with his mother, but she had worked so hard and given up so much to keep them afloat. And this was how his father had repaid her? By...by...he couldn’t even put it into words. Learning about his father’s mistress had shook him to his core, and hadn’t stopped shaking it since.
Family had never been a very comforting concept to Sam, and after that particular revelation, even the romanticized ideal of it had come crumbling down around him. Family wasn’t supposed to be built on lies and absence and forced smiles. It was supposed to be solid and warm and loving, not shaky and volatile and brimming with hurt.
He could feel his heart clenching with anger and bitterness and grief over what-could-have-beens, and Sam hated being that person. Instead, he stared at the blank white void of the email draft in front of him, forcing himself to breathe deep. What are the others doing right now? he asked himself, his mind latching onto a distraction. Josh was probably working himself up over the environment issue- that, or getting lovingly screamed at by Leo. CJ had just finished a briefing, and was probably high-fiving Carol or bickering with Danny. Toby was most likely scribbling notes for the energy conference, half of which would be crumpled up in the wastebasket by now. Or on fire. Sam smiled to himself, rubbing at the back of his neck.
“Hey,” came a cheery voice, and Sam looked up to find Donna in the doorway with a file tucked under her arm. “Any important government business going on in here?”
“Absolutely not,” he assured her, leaning back in his chair. “You need me for something?”
“Nothing pressing,” she replied with a shrug, brushing forward and hopping on top of his desk like she always did. “Toby and Josh are in CJ’s office watching the game if you want to join. ”
“Don’t they have work to do?” he mumbled petulantly.
“I really wouldn’t know,” Donna said with exaggerated innocence. She smirked at him. “But you look so sad and lonely in here, the least I could do was extend the invitation.”
“Hush, you,” Sam lamented, stretching absently. He looked down at his laptop and tapped his fingers on the desk. “I really should be working.”
“So should everyone else,” Donna pointed out. She slid off the desk and crossed her arms, giving him a look. “Sam? Hey, are you feeling okay? You look a little…”
Sam frowned, looking down at himself. “Disheveled?” he suggested, noting his wrinkled shirt and crooked tie.
“Ah,” she said with a nod. “That’s the word I was looking for. But, hey, are you really alright?” She leaned down to rub his shoulder. “You seem gloomy.”
“Yeah,” he replied, sighing. “Just a long day, I guess.”
Donna raised her eyebrows. “And do you know what the perfect antidote for a long day is?”
“Watching the game with Josh and Toby and CJ?” he guessed.
“Exactly!” Donna smiled, bonking him on the head with her file. “See you in five?”
Sam looked back at his email, thinking. If he mustered up the sheer willpower to write to his dad, he would have no idea what to say. And it wasn’t like his relatives in California were truly family, anyway. Not if all he associated with them were pain and disappointment. Maybe he could leave this email for later. Maybe he could watch football with his friends and chuckle at Toby and Josh shouting at the TV and rib CJ when she didn’t understand anything that was happening and forget about all of it, for a little while.
“Yeah,” Sam said, closing the lid to his computer. “Yeah, I’m coming.”
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josefavomjaaga · 3 years
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Sometime in the first days of January 1806, Crown Prince Ludwig of Bavaria received a letter from his future brother-in-law Eugène de Beauharnais. We only know this because Eugène mentioned it in his reply to Napoleon, while thanking his stepfather nicely for his coffee mug and for having been betrothed to the young lady depicted on it. Eugène considered the portrait charming and declared that he would do his best to make the original happy. With this in mind, he had also contacted Crown Prince "Louis", the only family member he had ever met.
Unfortunately, this letter has not survived. Given his dislike of both the alliance with France and his sister's marriage to the unworthy Beauharnais, “Louis” (he also hated to be called that) probably set fire to it in a rage. What he kept were a sabre that Napoleon had carried at Ulm and that he gave to Ludwig as a gift, and a sketch of the Battle of Austerlitz made by Napoleon himself.
Meanwhile, Ludwig also had a great deal to do, for the French guest who had settled in at the Residenz could not seem to sit still. On the first day of the new year, celebrations were held to mark the proclamation of the new Kingdom of Bavaria. Max Joseph, now King Maximilian I, however, was not very keen on this. He received the first homage in his wife's living room - unlike his own, her rooms had only recently been renovated. And as soon as he had declared that he had adopted the title of king, he added: "But otherwise we'll stay the same." Since there was no crown or other coronation insignia, there also was no question of any coronation ceremony. (There would never be a formal coronation in the Kingdom of Bavaria).
It has to be said, Max Joseph and Napoleon really didn't have much in common.
As soon as the proclamation of the kingdom, for which the French guests kept a low profile, was over, the French emperor again became enterprising. Ludwig had to accompany him on horseback when he rode through the city, surrounded by an escort. As Ludwig recorded in his notes, he actually seemed pleased that the Bavarians greeted him with honest, spontaneous cheers and regarded him as their liberator. (This did not happen often to the French. Usually the cheering had to be ordered). Napoleon talked to people about everything, took an interest in everything, and Grand Stable Master Caulaincourt had to translate. Unfortunately, most of the people in Munich didn't understand his German, so Ludwig translated again into Bavarian dialect. Ludwig even knew that Caulaincourt had been in Munich a few years ago during the war, as a "beau chevalier" whom the ladies of the city apparently still remembered.
When he had seen the town, Napoleon wished to go hunting. After all, this was the sport of kings, wasn't it? Well, most kings, perhaps. Max Joseph much preferred animals alive. And the weather was awful to boot! But hey, an emperor is an emperor, and one might even become related to him, so better do what the man said. But when during the first hunt Napoleon shot ruthlessly at everything that moved, including beaters and hounds, Max Joseph gave orders to load the imperial shotguns only with powder and no bullets, Ludwig noted. Apparently Napoleon didn't notice. All that mattered was that the thing went bang. Napoleon was in high spirits.
That changed when three days later (3 January 1806) a marriage treaty still hadn't been concluded. What were Otto, Talleyrand and Montgelas doing all this time? It couldn't be that difficult to draw up such a document!
Unfortunately, it was. The Bavarians were desperate to get a crown for their king's daughter, and in order to do that, the sorry groom needed to become king. Or at least receive something. Until now, he was nothing but the administrator of Napoleon's Italian kingdom; Eugène himself had literally nothing, not even the vague prospect that he might one day inherit something. He wasn't actually related to Napoleon, after all. So there you go: first the bridegroom should become king, then they could get married.
Napoleon was not willing to go that far. After all, he had already made Max Joseph king. Two crowns for just one wedding, that would be a bad deal. One might consider providing for the princess through the principalities of Piacenza and Parma (which were then entered into the contract as Eugène's share of the inheritance). And yes, he could probably also adopt the boy, he hinted.
As Eugène's biographer Adalbert von Bayern notes, whether Eugène would be adopted by Napoleon seems to have remained an open question for a long time. Apparently, a gap was left in the original marriage contract; the groom's name and title were only entered later.
In any case, Napoleon did not feel like wasting any more time with discussions. Duroc received written instructions (written at three o'clock in the morning of the third of January, to be precise) to go to Otto and, if necessary, to Montgelas as well, and to inform these gentlemen that Emperor Napoleon
- was highly dissatisfied with the state of affairs
- wished the treaty to be concluded without further delay and
- had fixed the date of the wedding for the 15th of January.
And that was that!
An hour earlier, at two o’clock in the morning, Napoleon had already, in his usual affectionate style, sent a second letter to his stepson in Italy.
My Cousin, twelve hours at the latest after receiving this letter, you will depart with all speed for Munich. Try to arrive as soon as possible, in order to be certain to find me here. You will leave your command in the hands of the division general whom you believe to be the most capable and reliable. It is useless for you to bring many people. Leave promptly and incognito, both to run less danger and to experience less delay.
Send me a courier who will announce your arrival twenty-four hours beforehand.
P.S.: One hour after receiving this letter, send me a letter to tell me the day you think you will arrive.
Be here! Yesterday!
So, this was Eugène’s invitation to his own wedding. Considering that the marriage is not even mentioned in the letter, he might as well have been summoned in order to be trialed and shot. I guess we can deduct that Napoleon’s mood was not the best when he wrote this. But then again, my mood at two o’clock in the morning tends to not be that good either.
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Spite and Temptation
Summary: Brigadier General Armstrong needs competent snipers for Fort Briggs and her eyes are set on a certain hawk. While Lieut. Colonel Mustang knows she doesn’t stand a chance, the dispute seems too entertaining to pass.
Gen. 1.5k words.
Link to AO3 (updated: all three chapters are up now)
Hello, @meridianheroine, I’m your secret santa for @fmasecretsanta2020 and I wish you a Happy New Year! Would you accept half of a story and the promise of finishing it real soon? I’m so sorry I couldn’t wrap it up in time and I wanted to edit it properly. There’s only one or two chapters left. I hope you find it entertaining. 
- - - -
Olivier Mira Armstrong studied the men in the room, all sitting around the large rectangular meeting table. It seemed she had lost the fight before it even began.
— Sir, Fort Briggs has requested an alchemist as soon as the war ended.
As a Brigadier General, she was the lowest rank around, sent to represent the soon-to-be-deceased Major General Solon. Well, that might be a harsh thing to say, but who was she fooling? The men of Briggs were, indeed, tough, to the point of not knowing when to retire. The fort was ready for her and she was ready for it, yet the General remained skeptical due to her young age.
That’s how she found herself in charge of getting the first alchemist for Fort Briggs.
— Indeed, I have read General Solon’s letter.
King Bradley, the highest authority of Amestris, always made himself directly involved when the subject was State alchemy. It didn’t surprise her that the Führer would come all the way to East Headquarters to join the meeting, and it certainly didn’t intimidate her to discuss business with him. Nevertheless, she couldn’t ignore the man’s decisiveness as he stood tall across from her continued to speak:
— However, a war of the dimensions of Ishval leaves us with several losses. From retirements to unfortunate cases of suicide, we cannot open hand of any State Alchemist as of now. That is why I myself have cared for this issue and decided, before we even returned from Ishval, to assign all alchemists back to their previous headquarters, with very few exceptions.
The ultimatum was evident, transfers were out of question. She jumped to her final attempt.
— I comprehend, sir, however, I’m certain there are gaps yet to be filled after said losses, and we’re going to need new exams. I, then, ask your permission to run a State Alchemist Exam in Briggs. Although the Extermination War has left us with one less enemy to face, Drachma remains as one of the country’s most challenging enemies and their forces are restless. The creative input of alchemy would greatly benefit Briggs’ battle strategies.
King Bradley turned his attention to the redhead man sitting a few chairs to her left.
— You can always count with the support of the Northern Headquarters, isn't that right, General Valdo?
— Of course, Führer. It is our duty to provide the best men we have whenever requested.
Major General Valdo was a cowardly little man who would always take as few responsibilities regarding the border as he could. It was undoubtedly of his interest to provide men and leave the rest to Briggs whenever possible. Olivier couldn’t wait to do business with him rank to rank.
— As well as any other place in Amestris — Bradley continued. — Fort Briggs isn’t fighting our battles alone, Brigadier General. The place isn’t a research center and it isn’t what it’s meant to be. You’re our raw power, that’s what we need you to be. A State Alchemist is better assisted in the headquarters, and they’ll be ready to join your forces whenever required. Since most of the manpower in the Ishval War came from the East, along with some of the best Human Weapons from Central, I’ll only be receiving the documentation from East and Center commands, where the exams are of utmost importance. If there aren't any more questions, I’ll be leaving you all to General Grumman.
Armstrong eyed instinctively the exam protocols she had helped her superior write while the other generals addressed started to collect their own paperwork.
— Can Briggs count on your consideration of our issue in the future, sir?
— Trust me, General Armstrong. You aren’t the only one disappointed. I’m sure some State Alchemists expected a guaranteed spot in Central Command after their outstanding performance, but that’s how it is. Amestris cannot stop. Still, it was a pleasure to know Briggs remains dedicated and brave enough to face the Führer himself. You can rest assured you have left me with something to mull over for the next few years.
The Fuhrer's voice was lighthearted although she couldn't notice any smile behind his thick mustache. Fort Briggs was one breathing organism and outsiders, despite necessary and helpful, were simply crutches. However, the two of them were on good terms, so she limited herself to a brief, respectful reply.
— Thank you for your attention, sir.
Lieutenant General Grumman stood up and circled the table, handing in his and the other General’s documents. King Bradley gave him a polite pat on the shoulder as if passing the torch, to which Grumman responded with a nod. He restarted the meeting as soon as the Führer closed the door.
— Well, as you all know, we're here today to discuss transfers and assignments regarding the East personnel. Let us treat of each headquarters’s pressing needs. Brigadier General Armstrong, you didn’t come just for an alchemist, am I correct?
The head of East Headquarters carried a joyful aura and seemed to be a malleable man, not that Olivier would underestimate the accumulated wisdom reflected in his wrinkles and white hair.
— Snipers are one of our greatest weapons. We depend on versatile soldiers who can disguise, attack from afar and patiently face our foggy, snowy conditions. There’s no place that could make better use of a soldier like the Hawk’s Eye than Briggs.
Olivier Armstrong left the meeting with her confidence restored. General Solon didn’t have many hopes when it came to alchemy anyway, but she had succeeded in everything else. The woman knew that an important part of her mission was to find balance between her assertive nature and diplomacy, and she was thankful for the opportunity. Today, she had been able to blend in with the other Generals smoothly and defend the Fort’s needs. She also seemed to have earned the Fuhrer’s respect, a feat that would add points to her promotion.
That, along with taking the Hawk’s Eye to the North. All that was left was to reach out to the young woman through her field superior, Sergeant Megan Dorovan, who was likely mentoring her on her next steps.
Olivier walked the hallways enjoying the warm weather and watching the garden over the wide window. There was only grass and stone. As plain as her snowy place.
— Good morning, Brigadier General… Armstrong?
Her eyes turned to the man who wasn’t simply passing by, but had stopped in front of her. Raven hair outlined a face that couldn’t be older than early twenties. She checked on his shoulder the insignia of Lieutenant Colonel.
— Morning — she frowned.
— Lieut. Col. Roy Mustang, sir — he hurried to introduce himself with a smile. Upon no reaction from her, he added: — The Flame Alchemist. Hero of Ishval. Honored to meet you.
The man puffed his chest as he spoke. The type who likes to impress, then. Hopefully she wasn’t dealing with a bootlicker, but merely a soldier seeking connections. Either way, she would cut his crap.
— You look like you barely left the diapers, not a war veteran — she remarked, dryly.
In truth, it was impossible to ignore the mark of war in a veteran, but he might be putting some effort into hiding it. Although he was taken aback for a second, Mustang didn’t let himself be intimidated by her words like most men.
— You also seem very young for someone who is listed to take charge of Briggs, sir. I guess our competencies speak louder than our ages.
Ah, yes, the expected flattery was as amusing as it was annoying. Olivier didn’t agree with the idea of giving State Alchemists the title of Major despite their lack of experience. It created incompetent soldiers like her brother or overconfident ones like the man in front of her.
— I wonder if there’s anything to you beyond your alchemy, as it often is with Dogs of the Military.
— Rumor goes Briggs is looking for a Dog of the Military, sir. How is it going? Oh, if you’re on your way to the cafeteria, we could go together.
He was a quick one, she had to admit.
— Alchemy can wait, for now. I have other things to take care of, so I’m gonna have to pass.
The woman adjusted her coat to signal the end of the conversation. Mustang seemed to understand, because this time he was simply polite to ask:
— Looking for someone specific, sir? If I could give you any directions…
— Yes, actually, Sergeant Dorovan. I’m taking a hawk to the North.
— Hawkeye?! — he asked in utter surprise. For some reason, that simple implication had pierced through the man’s facade quicker than any of her teasing. The smirk that formed on his lips next had been his most genuine expression so far. — Too bad she’s already applying to the Warrant Officer’s position, on my team.
No way.
18 notes · View notes
miraculouscontent · 5 years
Note
I just saw Felix, I am enraged beyond belief, and right now, I want someone to tear this episode and Astruc a new one. And who better than the Salt Fairy?
s-sALT FAIRY?? JDNGKFDG
WELL, WHO AM I TO DENY SUCH A REQUEST?
[Vanilla Graham Crackers]
So, I totally understand the idea that making new models is hard and it’s best to cut corners where one can, but that should only be done if it can be used in a way that doesn’t - you know - reuse two important character models and add almost nothing new to them.
To start off, you have Amelie, Emilie’s twin sister who they obviously reused Emilie’s model for.
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Then you have Felix, whose mother’s genes must’ve kicked the tar out of his father’s genes (and the same must’ve happened to Adrien unless Gabriel’s model is reused for Felix’s father’s too if we ever get a flashback/picture but we’re not getting into that) considering that Felix looks like Adrien’s twin rather than Adrien’s cousin (if they pull some sort of thing about Felix actually being Adrien’s twin just as some sort of cheap “gotcha,” I swear–though I doubt it because Amelie has a line about them looking “just like twins” which would be strange for someone who would’ve already known they were twins unless she doesn’t know that they’re twins either because some weird things happened and–I’m getting off-topic…).
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Already, these are both new characters who are being introduced in this episode that are edited versions of previous models we’ve seen on the show.
The thing is that I don’t care much if the models are reused, but they should at least have facial structures that look different enough to make them their own characters. At least reverse Amelie’s hair, gosh darn it.
Even Felix, like–I don’t even think any of the characters would find it odd if the “Adrien” in the video had different cheekbones or a different jawline. Felix could even have blue eyes but edit the video to make his eyes green (and then make an excuse as to why his eyes are blue when the villains show up). The Adrien model could be reused but still adjusted so he at least has a different freaking eye style, since those are usually the big thing that gives away the feeling of, “oh, the model is just reused.”
I mean, it makes sense for Felix’s name to be in the title of the episode, but that’s only because he actually got different hair and a different outfit, since even the people who get akumatized in this episode are reused.
Lady Wifi, who’s been seen multiple times in Season 1 and 3 now.
Princess Fragrance, who’s been used the least out of everyone else but has still been seen multiple times (counting scarlet edition Princess Fragrance).
And Reflekta, who’s been used multiple times even if you’re only counting Season 3. Reflekta even makes the least sense out of all the characters since she’s a bad combination with the others. Dark Cupid would’ve even been a better pick since Lady Wifi could freeze someone and then either Dark Cupid could get a clear shot or Princess Fragrance could force them to inhale her perfume.
They don’t even have a proper unique theme to them, like a design that they all share to show that they’re a team. It’s just a repeat of their past akuma forms except Lady Wifi doesn’t have to worry about being defeated in the same way as before I guess (not that they try it anyway)? I don’t question Alya being the only one to get an upgrade because the tablet is hers, but when we’ve already had an episode where a tablet was used as a “hey akuma, aim here” object, and the people who held it combined in that one because they had a shared goal, only to have this one be different and just turn them into separate forms?
Yeaaaah, no, that’s weird. That’s just weird. It’d be one thing if they were sure that there were two Adrien around and they needed to be separated so they could cover multiple people, but they’re not aware that Felix is around nor that he disguised himself as Adrien, requiring them to cover multiple grounds (and even then, that doesn’t need three of them).
I’ll say again that I don’t mind repeat akuma, but it has to make sense. Stormy Weather 2 and Gamer 2.0 made sense to come back even though I didn’t like their episodes or the messages behind them, but Reflektdoll and the Trio of Punishers here?
No, just–no.
(this is also once again keeping the “girl squad” quota in place which everyone knows I dislike; I just want the boys to be more involved sometimes and not have anyone’s involvement be based on what gender they are)
(also also, Ladybug defeating all of them in a few seconds demonstrates how incompetent they are as a team; defeating Nathalie is not a high bar for efficient villainry)
So, already with that, the episode is bland and doesn’t provide anything interesting; even Felix disguises himself as Adrien perfectly later on, so the model that was edited in any sort of significant way changes back to its oRinGaL fOrM partway through the episode just for the like, two viewers who couldn’t tell that he’s a duplicate of Adrien structurally.
Heck, and even once Felix does disguise himself as Adrien, he’s still making very “Adrien” faces. The camera switching from Adrien to Felix (disguised as Adrien) when the villains show up is a perfect example.
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Same face, same pose. It’s like they’re the same person at times (and no, I don’t believe that Felix is that good of an actor when he just got jumped by three teenage girls in outlandish clothing who came out of the phone in his hands).
There’s also the plot with Gabriel and the twin rings. Firstly, the opening is basically the one from “Chat Blanc” with the ring detail added. I remember seeing “Chat Blanc” and then being weirded out when “Felix” hit like, “Wait, is this–?”
Even disregarding that, there’s a certain awkwardness to Gabriel’s behavior. Of course, we all know that Emilie is actually alive and (un)well, so Gabriel being upset with Adrien isn’t entirely wrong (since, to Gabriel, it sounds like his son is supporting him having an affair), but for Gabriel to lash out in an almost childish manner when we’ve seen Gabriel hold Nathalie/Mayura tenderly and we can see that they have something going on, it seems extremely unprompted and just an excuse for Gabriel to not have to tell Adrien that he’s Hawk Moth.
It also brings up the question as to what changed between Gabriel saying that he already wished that he could tell Adrien what he was doing since Adrien would understand, compared to now where Gabriel is completely okay with telling Adrien.
Everything’s too up in the air, too vague, and nothing hits like it should. The episode throws five shots at its viewers at once (”Amelie and Felix,” “The Twin Rings,” “Gabriel Almost Telling Adrien That He’s Hawk Moth,” “Three People Getting Akumatized at Once,” and “Marinette Successfully Sending a Confession to Adrien”) but none of them strike properly. They’re all fighting for screentime to the point where we don’t even see Alya’s more detailed reaction to “Adrien” rejecting Marinette’s confession (she looks slightly more annoyed than everyone else, I guess) when Alya had made such a big deal about Marinette confessing beforehand (I’ll forgive her just this once for flashing her tablet, unprompted, in Marinette’s anxious face since Alya largely does nothing bad outside of that). The episode tries too hard to be big and impactful but misses the mark because none of the things it’s trying to do can play out in a way that makes it feel like they’re important.
Amelie and Felix don’t have original models.
The twin rings haven’t been brought up in any significant way before.
Gabriel and Nathalie talk about Adrien knowing about the Hawk Moth thing once and then presumably give up with no explanation as to why Gabriel isn’t going to try again since Adrien clearly just misunderstood him.
The three people getting akumatized end up turning into forms we’ve seen before, all of which have been in this season, even if it was sparingly.
Marinette’s confession doesn’t even get misinterpreted by Adrien; it’s viewed by Felix and promptly deleted.
Oh yeah, and then there’s THAT scene…
[Consententious]
Alright, so I can’t really talk about this scene without talking about the supposed reason for why this episode exists.
For the 0.01% of people who aren’t aware, Felix is the original Adrien from the Miraculous PV, which is what Miraculous Ladybug used to be before it became the show it is now. Astruc has said, time and time again, that he did not like this character and that was why Adrien had replaced him.
The fandom clung to Felix, however. People were still interested in the “what-ifs” and “what could’ve been”s, especially as situations rose in-show where people felt like Felix would’ve reacted in a way that was different/better than how Adrien would have reacted.
Astruc was the one most known for disliking Felix, but another thing he was known for was lying to people in order to keep future things in the show a secret.
You know that scene in “Kwamibuster,” where Tikki keeps something from Marinette, and when she then tries to explain something else to Marinette, Marinette points out, “You see, the problem now is that I’m always going to wonder if you’re lying or not”?
Yeah, that’s basically the fandom with Astruc. Whether Astruc’s behavior was justified or not, it’s harder to believe what he says when he openly admitted to lying to everyone.
This brings us back to Felix. In terms of what Astruc has told us on him, it’s been inconsistent, to say the least.
He claimed that Adrien was created because Felix wasn’t an interesting character, then said that Felix was interesting even though he wasn’t fit to be a hero despite later claims of Felix being a weak character who was more of an anime cliche, which was then further uprooted by outright stating that Felix was bad/evil.
Essentially, regardless of what has been said about this episode’s existence, this entire episode feels like a response to the side of the fandom that firmly believes that Felix would have been better than Adrien, and that looks bad because such episodes tend to never go over well with the fandom.
- Felix is shown as cold and unfeeling whereas Adrien is understanding if a bit solemn.
- Felix and Adrien are compared directly by both having a dead parent who died recently.
- Felix reacts negatively to Adrien’s behavior whereas Adrien tries to excuse Felix’s actions and be a good person.
- Plagg (who Felix would’ve had in the PV) is given a MUCH bigger input on things than he usually is, even to the point of comparing Felix and Adrien directly. The episode also has Felix ruining a piece of cheese in Plagg’s stash, whereas Plagg is typically not directly affected by the actions of other characters.
- Felix’s actions of rooting through Adrien’s things may or may not be a comparison to Lila (another character that Astruc doesn’t like) from “Oni-chan,” who riffled through Adrien’s things while Adrien was distracted. This is further supported by Plagg calling out both of these to Adrien and Adrien excusing both of them.
- Felix literally disguising himself as Adrien and Marinette not only noticing the facade straight away, but proclaiming angrily that Felix!Adrien is “not Adrien.”
- Felix implied to even be emotionally weaker than Adrien by his face at Chat’s comment about him not having many friends, his face in response to Marinette’s confession, and Adrien asking him to call if he needs support.
And then, we have the big scene where Felix (disguised as Adrien) tries to force a kiss on Ladybug, in which there’s a clear “no means no” message followed by a punch to Felix’s face.
Now… first off, yes, this is obviously yet another jab at the comparison between Felix and Chat. Felix tried to force a kiss on Ladybug whereas Chat has–
…well, he’s never gotten one off, at least, and stops when something happens (either Ladybug gets pulled back into the fight or she stops him with a hand/her words).
This is also shown by how Ladybug states post-punch that “Adrien would never be so pushy,” immediately followed by Chat Noir showing up and insulting Felix.
…Yeah, I’ll tackle the message first.
While this idea of “no means no” is nice and all, it ignores the nuance of what actually means “yes.” The forced kiss still would have been wrong if it’d been towards someone like Juleka, who would’ve locked up at the sight of someone trying to force themself on her, or someone like Rose, who may’ve been completely oblivious as to what the forcer would’ve been doing until it was too late. It might seem like a small thing, but just saying “what part of ‘no’ did you not understand?” leaves the obvious loophole of “WELL, if they DON’T say ‘no’ then that makes it okay.”
As for Chat, well… the setup not only didn’t make sense as a comparison to him, but it doesn’t function as a comparison in the episode itself.
See, the setup is wrong because Felix is not doing this because he’s a creep. He’s not someone who’s crushing on Ladybug and disguised himself as Adrien in hopes that she would favor him and let him kiss her.
In fact, Felix is fully aware that kissing someone without their consent is wrong; the reason he’s doing it is to ruin Adrien’s reputation.
Would Felix actually do that if he were lusting over Ladybug or crushing on a girl legitimately? We don’t know, and that’s exactly why Felix and Chat’s actions are not comparable.
This isn’t a case of, “Character B and C are attracted to Character A. Character C stops when told/prompted to stop whereas Character B continues despite those things.” Chat and Felix have entirely different motives when trying to kiss Ladybug.
Chat leans in for a kiss multiple times and is stopped by either Ladybug or whatever’s happening around them. Even if he stops when told/prompted to, he starts back up, whether it’s later in the episode or in a later episode beyond it.
Felix’s actions are wrong and I will not deny that, nor will I compare him directly to Chat and say that one is worse than the other.
I will just say: Felix is aware that he’s doing something scummy and is doing so to make someone he dislikes look bad. Chat may be aware that he can’t proceed with a kiss if Ladybug denies it or prompts him to back off, but he still tries over and over to flirt and/or lean in for a kiss in hopes that she’ll return it eventually. Whatever form of “no” Ladybug gives him (as it can come in many forms), Chat still believes that trying again later is perfectly fine and that asking is not necessary no matter how many times she’s denied him or rejected his feelings.
As for why the setup doesn’t function, it’s because we, in this episode, do not have a direct comparison between Felix’s advances and Chat’s. Chat isn’t given the screentime to properly flirt with Ladybug or try to make any sort of advance on her, so there’s no “that was Felix, this is Chat,” moment.
Is that because the writers were aware that Chat’s behavior is still not up to speed with how people should act in reality? Maybe, maybe not, but the point is that they didn’t have it.
Now, that said, there indeed was a character in the episode who made it very clear (both through his body language and through his words) that he respected the actions, space, and choices of the one he was in love with.
But, who was that again…?
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O O P S
Like, look, I’m not getting into Luka’s role in the episode (though I’ll just say that, while I adore the boy, this wasn’t the episode for him and - had I not needed to go into other subjects - I definitely would be rambling about the disservice both he and Marinette get in general), but I’m just pointing out the very obvious misstep taken. If this episode was a response to the fandom, I guess one could argue that this is knocking any idea of Felix being Marinette’s other love interest instead of Luka, but when people think of “someone trying to kiss Marinette/Ladybug,” Luka is not going to be the first one who comes to mind; that’s gonna be Chat and the writing dropped the ball entirely because it couldn’t pull it off without having to address his behavior or risk sending an, “only no means no,” message.
Oh, and speaking of dropping the ball, even Felix doesn’t get dropped entirely, because the writing didn’t even do Felix dirty CORRECTLY.
[Failing Felix]
Just for a moment, let’s roll (completely roll, this time) with the idea that this entire episode is a response to the side of the fandom who really liked Felix and preferred him over Adrien.
By that logic, the standard thing to do would be to make Felix as evil and possible and make everyone hate him, yes?
However, that “standard thing” is completely missing from this plot.
Felix, by the end of the episode, already has two motives.
The first is stated outright by the end, though could also be inferred early on as well: Felix wanted to get the twin rings back for his mother. In addition, it is not for his own selfish gain, as he isn’t even aware that his mother wanted to get the rings back so she could give them to him.
Felix wanted to get the twin rings back because his mother had told him that they were part of their family, not Gabriel’s, and Felix sought to retrieve them himself.
The second motive is for his actions outside of Gabriel, which is him judging Adrien and trying to ruin Adrien’s reputation.
Even Felix’s bitterness towards Adrien is showcased, though in small doses.
When Adrien apologizes to Felix for not going to his father’s funeral, Felix retorts with,
“You always do everything your father tells you to do?”
Right there is Felix’s problem with Adrien: he views Adrien as a doormat (a common fan complaint anyway tbh). This is not helped when Adrien excuses his father’s actions with a smile (which may come off as insensitive; Adrien, be UPSET by your father, not sheepishly smiling about what he did) by saying that his father is “very protective.”
Felix only initiates his stealing of Adrien’s things after this scene takes place; immediately after this takes place, as a matter of fact.
The other key interaction that takes place is when Felix enters the mansion. He reaches out for a handshake, but Adrien goes in for a hug.
Adrien doesn’t know that a hand reaching out in a handshake gesture isn’t consent.
Already, Adrien has come off as touchy, unable to read Felix’s gestures, and possibly insensitive.
Further on are Felix’s comments on the things he finds in Adrien’s phone:
Adrien’s obvious crush on Ladybug - Felix sees it as idiotic which… yeah, it would look like a childish celebrity crush without context
Nino’s video - 90% sure the reaction there was the “teenage” version of how Gabriel judged Nino in “Bubbler;” pretty standard rich boy judgment
Rose’s video - …I’m sorry, I can’t blame Felix for that one; that was so overly gushy and cheerful that I winced
Max’s video - Felix doesn’t seem like the type to like jokes and he also thinks that whole thing is weird (also not knowing that Markov is “real”); could go either or on how out-of-place his comment was.
Chloe’s video - Felix doesn’t like Chloe and I can’t blame him for that one either.
Marinette’s video - Felix has a different reaction to this one and I imagine he either thinks that Adrien is dating Marinette (and could think it’s pathetic for a variety of reasons from “Adrien is already crushing on Ladybug” or “the doormat boy has a girlfriend”) or thinks that Marinette confessing over video is pathetic
Even when Felix goes against Ladybug and Chat, he’s probably realized at that point that impulsively impersonating Adrien won’t get him anywhere close to sleight-of-handing Gabriel’s ring away. Also, Ladybug punched him (regardless of her reason why) and Chat insulted him despite only knowing things about him from what he heard from someone else.
None of this excuses any of Felix’s actions, but it is a reason that is introduced within the episode where said actions take place.
Unlike, say, Chloe, whose mother was shown off in the season after Chloe herself first appeared, giving us no context, reason, or motive for her behavior outside of “she’s a spoiled brat.”
Felix also did manage to come up with a convincing enough apology to get Gabriel to shake his hand, allowing Felix to safely snatch one of the twin rings away to return to his mother.
I don’t think anyone is complaining about Gabriel getting screwed over after “Chat Blanc,” just saying.
Even athletically, Felix scores a one-handed point in basketball with his back turned to the hoop, and he can go toe-to-toe with three akuma at once.
He even has a hobby in doing magic tricks, said hobby allowing him to steal Gabriel’s twin ring. Characters having hobbies is an important thing for fleshing them out, and Felix weirdly just… has one, and one that benefits him.
So, is Felix’s presence in the show an insult due to having a repeated character model and being used as a forced comparison to Adrien? Yes.
Does that mean he’s not workable in any form and can’t be used for the fandom’s desires?
Not really, no. At least, I certainly don’t think so.
The reality is that Felix was never a warm person, PV or otherwise, and his initial reaction to Adrien (”I don’t like you. You hugged me without my asking you and you let your father walk all over you.”) is honestly something I’d expect of him.
It’s when combined with the already terrible ideas of the episode and the convoluted nature of things that everything (including him) turns into a problem.
731 notes · View notes
seunqs · 3 years
Text
[ a long get to know me tag ]
tagged by: losers @woosohn @yeonjuins
what day is your birthday?
27th june! it’ll be on a monday next year
what’s your favourite colour?
blue! a rather specific shade of light sky blue but i also like dark blue! might be misleading because everyone would think beige/black since that’s the aesthetic i like + almost everything i own is black...
what’s your lucky number?
i don’t have one i think but i tend to say 7 if i’m asked?
do you have any pets?
sadly no >:( will get one in the future idc idc
how tall are you?
158cm tiny i wna be abit taller
how many pairs of shoes do you own?
off my head i think 3 pairs...? just 2 black and 1 white that i rotate depending on the outfit i’m wearing
favorite song?
asdjekw i don’t think i have one specific one but recently i’ve been listening to maniac by nct doyoung & haechan!
other honourable mentions: a book of love by ha hyunsang, wide eyed blind by saint raymond, irreplaceable by nct dream, lmly by jackson wang. that’s all i have off my head
favorite movie?
surprisingly i’m not big on movies... but i’ll always answer parent trap when someone asks! why do i sound like i always have prepared answers in my head for various questions... okay that’s bc i do.
what would be your ideal partner?
@june look away i already know you’re gna say this sounds a lot like someone..
shy... is the main characteristics lmao idky it’s not even like i’m outgoing but i tend to find myself liking shy-er boys over the outgoing ones! aaa those with very obvious leadership qualities and quietly cares and looks out for those around them :’) tsundere! i think shy may appear cold sometimes but i’m rly :’) when the shy ones become very affectionate in private or when you get to know them better :’) or shy with strangers but very goofy and silly with their closer social circle heh those that are more cat-like than dog-like, only approaches you when they’re comfy. okay also shy but willing to speak up when necessary! doesn’t let themselves get bullied for being quiet and also pls speak up for me i hate ordering food pls do it for me HAHAHHA also if they’re passionate about something they like/are good at! good listeners too heh doesn’t need to always have the best advice, just if they would sit with me silently and listen to me and give me a hug afterwards :’’’’’) i think i’m on the touchier side too so if they don’t dislike that it’ll be nice! OH someone who’s good at cooking too bc i hate cooking and the kitchen in general.. i’ll do the dishes though HAHAHAH ok that is all there is a certain idol in my head that is the embodiment of my ideal type and i hate him >:(
do you want children?
no... not so much bc i don’t find them cute or i can’t handle them but i think it’s a commitment that scares me! bringing up the child well with the right character and values ajksdbwkje i don’t know if i’m up to that HAHAHAH
have you gotten in trouble with the law?
nope @woosohn @yeonjuins pls be proud of my direct no why are the two of you......... 
bath or shower?
shower! i don’t know if i’ve actually taken a bath before... probably when i was younger HAHAH i think i’ll get bored in the bath and i much rather be relaxing in bed than in the tub
what color socks are you wearing?
barefoot at the moment! the socks i own are mostly solid colour socks / simple cartoon or animal patterns but all ankle socks that can’t be seen with my shoes
favorite type of music?
i listen to pop, r&b and indie! that’s about all and favourite depends on the mood!
how many pillows do you sleep with?
just 1! and a bolster too
what position do you sleep in?
either on my back with hand over my head lmao or turned to either sides while hugging my bolster and face buried into the bolster
what you don’t like when you’re sleeping?
when it’s too hot! canNOT sleep if the weather is too hot. also if i get woken up rudely, by screaming or someone smacking me awake LMAO just tell me nicely to get up and i’ll be out of bed in 10mins pls give me awhile my brain is turning on HAHAHA
what do you have for breakfast?
recently i haven’t woken up early enough for bfast or my family is just about to go out to buy lunch by the time i’m up hahaha but on the days that i’m alive for bfast, iced coffee and any pastry sitting in the fridge! my family is big on pastries like croissants and cakes like banana and carrot cakes! so one of those but the iced coffee is a constant in my first meal of the day
have you ever tried archery?
nope and idt i’ll be good at it tbh....
favorite fruit?
strawberries, apples, peaches! there are some seasonal favs where i rly like them for a period of time and then suddenly not anymore but these 3 are the constants
favorite swear word?
hahahaha i dont think i have a favourite one..... but i say tf a lot and mf for kpop boys who make me more flustered than they should
do you have any scars?
i don’t think so! i have a few stretch marks around my waist and tummy tho 
are you a good liar?
yes... HAHAH i used to get scolded so much for lying as a kid lmfao
what’s your personality type?
isfj-t has probably only dipped to isfp-t once but if not constant isfj!
what’s your favorite type of girl?
HAHAHAH uh.... okay with all kinds i think? except people in general who try too hard
innie or outie?
innie. was this question necessary tho AHHAHAHA
left or right-handed?
right-handed
favorite food?
ramen! but i like lots of food lmfao tiramisu, pork belly, lots of noodles, also lots of rice, beef, cakes, ice cream, i think i’m more salty > sweet!
favorite foreign food?
japanese ramen, korean cuisine!, lasagne
are you clean or messy?
clean
most used phrase?
i think alot of keyboard smashes, lmao, wtf, HAHAHAHHAHA, sigh, i’m tired LOL
how long does it take for you to get ready?
depends! fastest i think i can get out of the house 20mins after i’ve woken up. longest probably an hour where outfit is taking a while and accessories needs to be chosen
do you talk to yourself?
in my head yes.
do you sing to yourself?
not often but i sing out loud for the family to hear LOL in my head very often a song is playing up there
are you a good singer?
nop. i don’t think i’m a BAD singer but wouldn’t classify as good either HAHHAHA
biggest fear?
wow so many things but i think biggest is complete darkness, i need to see and know what is going on around me. i sleep with a night light on heh 
are you a gossip?
with closer friends yes def HAHAH my school culture tends to have lots of tea that my friends and i don’t like to get too involved in but we do talk about the gossips that goes around hahaha have also been in the center of gossip way too often
do you like long or short hair?
long! can’t imagine myself with short hair.. used to have reallllyyy long hair that goes beyond my waist and cried when i cut it to slightly below shoulder length. that’s the shortest i’ll ever go
favourite school subject?
wow nothing i don’t like school lmfao but humanities and language are way more bearable than math and sciences
extrovert or introvert?
introverted
what makes you nervous?
unpredictable situations, being alone in public (contradictory because in private i would strongly prefer to be alone but i don’t enjoy being alone in public i feel judged HAHAHA), also currently waiting on a reply for something and that’s been keeping me anxious the past 2 days :’)
who was your first real crush?
when i was 13/14, tablemate in school that was kinda shy and had very limited social circle but talked to me endlessly in class lmfao he apparently liked me too but we never dated and went to different schools at 16 y/o. we’re still kinda in touch though! we talked quite a fair bit last month just catching up but he’s more of an acquaintance now
how many piercings do you have?
2! just one normal lobe piercing on either ears, don’t think i’ll get anymore
how fast can you run?
back in school i used to be one of the fastest girls in my class LMFAO i could clock 12.5 minutes for a 2.4km run. stamina came from dancing since i had to run laps before dance class 2 times a week. but that is long in the past and now i get tired from climbing more than 4 flights of stairs pls spare me
what color is your hair?
naturally black but dyed brown! my hair has grown quite abit since i dyed it though now its black at the top and brown from above my ears onwards
what color are your eyes?
a very dark brown lmfao almost black
what makes you angry?
irresponsible people. just pushing responsibility to others or avoiding their responsibilities. don’t need you to do a good job with your responsibilities, just don’t make your issues my issues. and if its a shared responsibility like group projects, then do your part to contribute and don’t expect others to cover you
selfish people, in many ways. just being self-centred, not caring about how others feel, doing things for personal gain at the expense of others
speaking in a passive-aggressive/sarcastic manner. i say this even though i’m afraid of confrontation but i much rather someone outright tells me they’re unhappy about something or wants to get a point across. i hate when they talk about it sarcastically or tries to sugar-coat their words to make themselves look less aggressive about their words. tell me straight as it is, if you’re already gonna talk about something bad don’t piss me off with your attitude at the same time
do you like your own name?
rae is nice! has a very nice ring to it and looks pretty!
do you want a boy or a girl as a child?
i don’t.. want one.. but both have their good and bad i can’t decide.. i want a puppy
what are your strengths?
is this an interview question i have had a few interviews over the past weeks i am well-prepared for this HAHAHA
i think i’m pretty resilient! i bounce back from bad times pretty quickly or i psycho myself to see the situation positively. but it is ofc coupled with a lot of complaining to the people around me first
although i hate unpredictable situations and having to quickly adapt to new settings, i think i adapt pretty quickly too. flexible? easy-going? idk what’s the right way to call it but yeah something along those lines. good at it but i still enjoy my stability and calm don’t want to have to quickly adapt to new situations.
what are your weaknesses?
very emotional HAHAH used to be much worse but i often let my emotions rule my head. i think i’ve improved A LOT though i used to be so bad but i think i’m now able to make rational decisions even if im bawling LMFAO
this sounds like a compliment but i’ve been told this too often as well. i tend to be way too nice to people who don’t deserve it. even if the person doesn’t deserve it or they’ve pushed all my buttons in the wrong way possible, i would still try to be as nice and polite as i can. really helps with me working in the f&b industry lmfao.
what’s the colour of your bedspread?
dark blue / grey! 
colour(s) of your room?
white & wood (throughout my house actually + green from the plants in the living room) @yeonjuins says i live in a muji showroom
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missingrobin · 4 years
Text
Unconditional (part one) Hope
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part 2
Description: Love. Lies. Heartbreak. A recipe for disaster. When you move to Riverdale you have to face your dark past and a possibly hopeful future.
Pairing:Sweet Pea x Reader, Jughead x Reader 
Warning:language, mentions of death, drugs,violence, underage drinking (just don’t get triggered)
Word Count: 2127
A/N: Hi my loves this is my first fanfic and I’m so excited to dive into this series with you. I poured my heart and soul into this so please give it a read I’m so proud of it. If you have any questions don’t hesitate to send me an ask.
The night was finally starting to set in. Owls called  in every direction. Violent  trees shook their leaves. On a long paved road Y/N was driving to start her new life in Riverdale…
Your first stop was at a large bar on the wrong side of the tracks. You knew immediately that this was the rough part of town by the trailer homes that marked the road and the motorcycles lining the bar. It was obviously a bad idea to stop at this bar but you had no choice. It was either this or get stuck in the copious amounts of rain pouring down.  Even though the rain was not ideal for this situation you couldn’t get over the sweet smell and the dewy weather, it was the best . As you pulled into the grimy parking lot you noticed tall figures standing in front of the bar door, The figures were wrapped inside jackets marked with a snake. You parked your 2008 Mustang Bullitt and got out. The heel of your boots clattered loudly as you  walked toward the figures, you were automatically met with force. One of the taller boys moved toward you with purpose; he flicked a switch blade from out of his jacket pocket and pressed it against your chin. You weren't phased though you had your fair share of violence in your life and you knew that if it came down to a fight you would be the one walking out. The tallest boy quietly spoke with fiery passion.
“What are you doing around here pretty goulie,” questioned the boy.
Confusion marked your face you’d never heard that term before. 
“I’m sorry asshole but I don’t know what the hell a goulie is,” you replied. 
The boy obviously knew you weren't a goulie by you parking your car in their lot and walking over alone but he was testing you to see if she could handle it.
“Well if you’re not a goulie then who the fuck are you?”
Behind the boy you heard an older man call out.
“Sweet Pea what the hell are you doing just bring the girl inside I’m sure she doesn't mean no harm.”
The boy who was called Sweet Pea was obviously annoyed that the older man corrected his behavior. A look of irritability washed over his face and he rolled his eyes and put the knife away.
“Follow me princess” says the one called Sweet Pea 
You flash a quick and passive aggressive smile toward him and walk through the bar doors. The bar was awfully dark inside. Pool tables were scattered around the floor and with many people surrounding them, dart boards were in use and other people resided at the bar where a short girl with pink hair stood and made drinks for thirsty patrons. It looked as if she flashed you a smile on your way in. When you finally stopped looking around you came face to face with a tall dark haired man with the same leather jacket on.
“My name’s FP Jones I’m in charge of this bar, who are you and why are you in our part of town, girl?”
You took slight offense to this since you were turning 18 in 3 weeks and You’ve been on your own since you could remember.
“I’m Y/N,  I’m new to town and I was just trying to find a place to lay low till the weather calmed down if that’s alright with you,” you said with a slight snark in your voice.
That response amazed FP and all of the other members of the Serpents because no one ever dared come in their bar and talk to them like that. They immediately knew they liked this girl.
“Hey is it alright with yall if Ms.Y/N stays?” FP hollered
“Hell Yeah” responded most in the bar except Sweet Pea.
Sweet Pea had been glaring at you since you stepped out of your car. He didn’t trust this interesting new girl that just happened to step foot in his bar.  
The crowd settled and Y/N took a seat at the bar where the pink haired girl greeted her with a smile. 
“HI I’m Toni Topaz,” 
Hi I’m Y/N L/N, What's his deal?” you ask as you point to Sweet Pea who has been glaring at you  for the past 20 minutes.
“Oh, Sweet Pea has issues with new people.” Toni sighed 
“Well he needs to get over himself I didn’t do shit to him.” you spit rapidly 
“Hey girl chill I know don’t get all worked up, lemme get you a drink” Toni replied trying to ease your obvious anger.
The whole drive here has been a shit show. First you ran into some trouble with a gang on your way out of California, then you lost your keys for 20 minutes when they were just in your cup holder, now this. All you wanted was to start a new life away from the gangs, the lovers, and the danger but somehow you’ve already fucked that up by landing in this shit hole.
“Strawberry Daiquiri please,” you finally came out of your hase of thought and emotion.
“Alright, anyways what's going on with you Y/N what's your story?” Toni eyed you 
A tear rolled down your cheek, you quickly wiped it away so she wouldn’t notice but she did.
You broke into everything that you’ve been holding inside. You were definitely scared to say these things out loud but talking about it lifted a weight off of your chest. By the time you were finished with your drink you had told Toni your whole life story. The good. The bad. And the very very ugly. You even told her about the night you lost your parents and little brother in a car crash and the night you left for Riverdale to escape your fucking psycho ex boyfriend Nico You didn’t realize that a tsunami rolled down your face but at this point you didn’t care you were done with lies.You didn’t know why you trusted her but you just did you knew that she wasn’t as judgmental as the girls in California.
“Holy Fuck Y/N” Toni exclaimed 
Toni jumped over the bar and came to give you a huge hug. You wanted to keep your strong bad bitch persona but all of the shit you’ve been dealing with came crashing down in that moment. 
“Bad bitches cry to Y/N it's okay there’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Toni whispered as you continued to cry on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry Toni I don’t know where all that came from” you whimpered wiping the tears from your face. 
Mascara smudged all down your cheeks. Toni looked up at you and giggled. You took out your phone to look at the damage you had done. You giggled as well
1:11 am your phone read
The rain hadn’t slowed at all so you came to terms that you would be spending the night at the bar. You didn’t care that your makeup was fucked so you just continued talking to Toni like nothing just happened. 
“Hey you know if you need anything I’m always gonna be there for you” Toni smiled and grabbed your hand.
“Thanks Toni I really appreciate it.” you remarked 
“Where are you gonna be staying for the time being” Toni questioned
“Well I was just going to rent a room at that bed and breakfast up the road till I could find a place” you replied.
“If you want you can stay with me, I have my own trailer over by that road into town” Toni remarked
“Wait are you serious?”
“Yeah I’m serious dork.” Toni replied with rolling her eyes 
“Yes oh my god yes that would be amazing!” your whole mood perked up with the thought
“Okay great cause it gets really lonely not having another girl around.” Toni sighed
“Wait, you don’t have any other girl friends?” you questioned
“Nah I don’t, but I have Jug, Sweet Pea, and Fangs and now you I guess haha.” 
You really liked Toni. You trusted her immensely. She was kind and genuine from the start. You both chatted the night away at the end you were basically best friends. Toni caught glances from other serpents as you laughed loudly. She also explained all the Serpent and Goulie drama that you’ve stepped foot in. You were hella anxious what this new city would bring and who it might bring along but you were ready to face anything head on.
Then suddenly Sweet Pea walked over to you and Toni.  
“Hey Y/N I’m sorry for giving you such a hard time. I just don’t take it well when new people just start showing up.” Sweet pea sighed 
He was obviously gorgeous and you’re type but that doesn’t change the fact that he pulled a fucking knife on you.
“It's fine” you replied coolly 
“Alright then.” 
Oh you were sure that you didn’t like this asshole but you were just going to get used to him.
You continued your conversation with Toni and learned secrets that she hadn’t told anyone. You told Toni about Nico and your relationship with him and how manipulative he was.
“I met him a few months after my family's accident, he was the kindest and sweetest person I had ever met. He took care of me when no one else was there for me. I fell for him immediately. I was always a hopeless romantic but with Nico it felt like it was instant. He had the most beautiful hazel eyes, he looked like he was carved by the gods but there was one problem he was a possessive crazy drug dealing psycho. He didn’t let me go anywhere and once when I was talking to one of his guards he screamed at me and ordered his men to get rid of him. I never saw him again. After that I knew I had to get away by any means necessary, that night I went to his safe and stole a shit ton of drug money, I grabbed all my personal items, and I got the hell outta there.” you finished your story
You didn’t realize that the bar had gone silent while you were telling your story. You looked up to find all eyes on you and everyone was in shock. 
“Holy fuck” you heard some man exclaim. 
FP came to the front to talk to you.
“Y/N we’re all here for you, As long as you’re with the serpents you have protection no one’s gonna fuck with you.” FP said with complete confidence 
“They’re dangerous FP and Nico’s a fucking maniac he will look for me and when he finds me he’s gonna kill anyone who trys to stop him” you said sadly 
“We’ll worry about that when it comes, for now just get settled in town are you in school?” FP asked 
“Yeah I am I registered at South Side High yesterday, and I have a job interview at Pops on Monday.” you responded 
“Forget pops you can have a job here if you want it would be a hell of a lot safer.” FP remarked combing back his sleek black hair with his hands.
“I’d love too thanks FP” excitement rolled over your body
You were so confused why people were being nice to you it was odd after all the months of torture you just went through. Life was finally starting to work out somehow and you were so thankful for it. Love and support surrounded you, a feeling that was lost 7 months ago.
People started slipping off to sleep all around the bar. Toni drifted to a slow slumber on a couch near a FP was off somewhere talking to his son and you were left to your own devices till the brutal Sweet Pea graced you with his presence. 
“Hey Y/N” he mumbled, taking a seat right next to you at the bar.
“Hi Sweet Pea” you were still annoyed about his behavior but you were way too tired to be pissed off at the moment.
“I’m sorry for being such a dick I didn’t know your life was that fucked haha” he laughed quietly 
“It’s okay not many people do.” you replied 
You broke into conversation with Sweet Pea. The sun came up and the rain slowed, your new life was finally starting and with a bang. You napped to prepare for the new adventures ahead. Will there be love? Will there be loss? Will Nico come for you? Will you make it out alive? 
Who knows I guess you have to continue reading to find out ;)
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missjosie27 · 4 years
Text
Year 3 Part 12- Change is Coming
Hello, everyone!
We have officially reached the end of Year 3 and what a ride it has been thus far. The amount of interest this story has generated despite Hogwarts Mystery being somewhat of a let down is very heartening. It's extremely fun to write, almost like writing therapy in a way.
That being said I'd like to give an update for the future which I will also put in the story notes. This story will not be updated again until the New Year. The reason being I have several other projects I'm trying to juggle not to mention I like to write the story ahead of time and then release it over a period of time.
So, for the month of November I will be writing other things which should be done by December in which I will begin Year 4 and hopefully have completed writing it by January. So I ask for your patience as a I try to get everything done in a very difficult time for me personally. I promise it will be worth the wait. I have lots of fun things planned for Year 4, including for a certain cute Slytherin girl ;)
Anyways, enjoy the chapter! David Grant will be back in no time!
Unlike the previous year, no Professor confronted David about the vaults in the aftermath of breaking into one. He expected McGonagall or Snape to confront him about it. The Potions Master did shoot him nasty glares but asked him no questions and was no worse than he usually was. Of everyone Pince was the most likely to try and either punish or get him to confess but nothing of the sort occurred. Oddly enough, he thought the irritable librarian might be side stepping him on purpose as she consistently avoided his gaze while he studied for his exams. But there was one similarity: as it was with the ice the boggarts seemingly vanished in the aftermath of their excursion. The curse was broken.
As for the other affairs at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had returned although no one knew just exactly where he’d gotten off to in the first place. There were rumors to be sure (including one where he allegedly slayed a Hungarian Horntail and another where he took a two week holiday at a muggle resort in France in order to study the magical properties of champagne) but none of them were substantiated. The third, soon to be fourth year, Gryffindor considered himself lucky that the Headmaster was not present during his latest escapade but nevertheless remained on his guard. Very little got by the old man despite his outwardly friendly, eccentric demeanor.
Exams were soon concluded as was the Quidditch season. Unfortunately for the Lions, Slytherin won their last matchup giving the snakes victory in the Quidditch Cup which was difficult to stomach given their resounding success the previous year. Charlie Weasley took it especially hard, but all were reassured by the words of Bill, who reminded everyone the same squad was returning next year and they had only lost their two games by a margin of 100 points. Despite the disappointing season Skye Parkin and Charlie remained two of the brightest young stars in Hogwarts.
Exams were formally concluded by the second week in June and to celebrate their marks among other things Bill also suggested they celebrate at the Three Broomsticks during the last visit to Hogsmeade. With a not so subtle wink he also made plans to invite everyone involved with the latest vault, signaling their latest triumph.
Though still mentally a bit fatigued, David thought the idea was a good one and supposed if there was any time to kick back and relax it was now. The map of the forest and the broken arrow were safely locked away in his trunk, and despite feeling like he was still far from finding Jacob, he was content for now that the boggarts had disappeared and Hogwarts returned to normalcy. Besides, he had a feeling a proper discussion regarding the latest vault was imminent at the Three Broomsticks.
All the same, it wasn’t a proper school year without one last confrontation with Merula Snyde.
It was a bright, sunny day, the kind that reinvigorates the bones and the soul when the weather turns warm in the highlands of Scotland. Happy to forgo the black robes of his uniform, he dressed himself in a white t shirt, red zip up jacket, blue jeans, and a pair of black vans he was quite fond of from a muggle company called ‘vans’ (he saw the advertisement on a commercial street in London and convinced his mother the value of such a purchase). Glancing one last time at the trunk he kept his things in he muttered to himself.
“Two vaults down. I wish finding you was simpler Jacob, we could be a family again if you just came back...why...why don’t you come back?”
Feeling a rare moment of tears surging through, David wiped them and buried the feelings just as he always did. He did not want to lose face in front of his friends nor indicate anything was wrong. A butterbeer and a few jokes would be enough to keep the pain at bay for at least a little while.
He left Gryffindor Tower which by now was largely devoid of anyone given it was a sunny day, exams were done, and most people were out and about. It was only when he reached the edge of the Great Hall that the Slytherin girl stepped out from the shadows.
“Grant.”
“Good Lord, we need to put a bell on you,” he quipped.
But Merula wasn’t laughing, though she almost never smiled (unless it there was malicious intent) this time there was a hard, stony faced expression that betrayed both frustration and deep seated anger.
“I know you found that vault and I know you broke that boggart curse,” she told him quietly.
“Good job, detective. Do you want a medal for special services for the school?”
It was quite remarkable how easy it was to get underneath her skin, but for once David didn’t have the energy to spend going back and forth with her. He was tired and in no mood to pull out his wand and duel her for the umpteenth time.
By the same token, he was prepared to all the same.
“I hope you enjoy your little victory with your pathetic friends. Savor it while you can,” Merula sneered at him.
“I will, thank you,” he responded coolly. “Can’t say the same for you though.”
The teenage Slytherin’s scowl morphed into a snarl as her fists clenched but she did not reach for her wand.
“Why?” she spoke through the clenched teeth. “Why do you always do this?!”
“You’re going to have to be more specific. I do a lot of things.”
“This!” Merula gestured wildly with her hands. “Every time we fight or battle you just respond with stupid wisecracks! And on top of that you always win!!”
David recognized straight away that this was not a typical tantrum from his long standing rival. Rather it was a plea, a desperate attempt to justify why things had gone the way they had. An answer for all of her failures.
“Merula, you’re looking at this the wrong way,” came his straightforward reply.
“And how should I be looking at it?” she snarled.
“I’m not going into these vaults so I can become rich or hold myself above everyone else...I’m doing it for my brother and for the friends who have my back.”
“I had friends!” Merula shot back. “Until you bloody well took Tulip and Barnaby from me!”
“I took no one from you,” David replied more forcefully. “They chose to join my side because you treated them like rubbish and didn’t feel like taking your orders anymore.”
But Merula refused to heed him.
“It’s your fault! Everything bad that’s happened to me is your fault!”
“Classic Merula Snyde,” the Gryffindor said with an angry sigh. “Can dish it out but can’t take it. Have you ever once thought that you might be wrong? Are you capable of caring about anything except yourself?”
“I-I...you-”
“You don’t know what a friend is because you’ve never had one,” he interrupted her. “I doubt you’ve ever cared to either.“
“Don’t pretend to know me, Grant!” Merula shouted. “There is nothing about my life you could possibly understand!”
“Maybe not, but I do know one thing: if you keep on doing the same thing over and over again expect the same results. And if attacking, insulting, and lying to me hasn’t worked thus far, you may want to consider that the source of your misfortune originates with yourself and not with me.”
For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, David Grant had left Merula Snyde speechless. No comeback, taunt, or rejoinder came from her mouth. Instead, it was sealed shut in a tight line and once more he could see that same hurt in her eyes. The soft lavender tortured by pain and anguish. Temptation to express sympathy became suddenly apparent but that emotion was pushed back. How were you supposed to feel sorry for someone who tried to make your life miserable just because of their own hubris?
She’s right, I don’t understand. I don’t think I ever will.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have some people waiting for me at the Three Broomsticks. See ya next year.”
As he moved past Merula, he was prepared to engage her again if she attacked. But this time retaliation was absent as the Slytherin stood stock still, posture unchanging.
Taking the staircase down to the grounds, David wondered how long it would be before she moved again.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Thankfully, the Three Broomsticks was a much noisier but merrier environment and sure enough the entirety of his friends were there- Bill, Penny, Rowan, Ben, Tulip, Tonks, and Barnaby sitting at one of the corner booths. All were partaking in a round of butterbeer and to his pleasant surprise there was a full mug of it untaken as though it were waiting for him.
“Dave! You made it!” Rowan exclaimed. “What took you so long?”
“Had another run in with Merula,” he said frankly.
That caused the entire table to give pause.
“Did you have to-”
“Strangely enough she didn’t attack me this time,” he answered Ben straight away. “It was more like yelling and flailing angrily.”
Bill shrugged, edging the glass mug towards him.
“Well no need to worry about her now. Have a butterbeer. Madam Rosmerta said it was on the house.”
“Cheers, mate!” he thanked, raising his glass and taking a sweet sip.
“I propose a toast,” Tulip declared, raising her own glass. “All hail the conquering cursebreaker! Long may he reign!”
“Here, here!” the rest of the group shouted out.
David was genuinely touched.
“Thank you, all. I couldn’t have done it without any of you….though you might want to be careful where you say that. ‘Officially’ we weren’t anywhere near the vault, remember?”
“Nah don’t worry about that,” Tulip told him. “I’ve heard Pince was so embarrassed about the situation she hasn’t said a peep. Not even to Dumbledore.”
“The Professors aren’t dumb, they know that someone broke the curse on the vault since most of the boggarts vanished. I heard Professor Snape was on the warpath at the latest Prefect’s meeting,” Bill informed them.
“He is,” Barnaby confirmed taking a long swig. “Merula told him about Madam Pince, the Restricted Section, and the Cursed Vault.” A proud grin stretched across his face. “She forgot to mention the part where I defeated her and Ismelda.”
“So if he knows why isn’t he hauling my ass into his office right now tearing me a new one?” David asked.
“It’s like what Tulip said,” Tonks replied. “Pince is too embarrassed to admit what happened. Didn’t stop her from giving me detention through next year though.”
“There’s no proof,” Ben agreed. “Even I’m not worried.”
“Thought I think getting detention into next year might be a new Hogwarts milestone,” David said chuckling and raising his glass towards his pink haired friend. “Congrats.”
“That dungbomb was all for you, Dave. It was also totally worth it.”
“Feels good to get off scot free,” Tulip agreed. “Well almost all of us, anyway. I don’t want to say it was all due to my brilliant plan but…”
“What did you find in the vault, David?” Penny asked eagerly. It was a question she had clearly been dying to ask.
“We found a map of the Forbidden Forest and a broken arrow. So more clues just as it was last time.”
“I’d wager all my galleons and gobstone set that the next vault is in the Forbidden Forest. It won’t be like this year where we had to spend an enormous amount of time just figuring out where the location was. I know I’ll be reading about it all summer,” Rowan chimed in.
“You mentioned in our last private chat that the map had the letter ‘R’ in the top left corner,” Bill said. “Do you have any theories on that?”
David’s eyes scanned the table before lingering on Ben.
“I’ve been wondering the same thing….”
If his gaze was accusatory it was unintentional but it had the added effect of everyone else doing the same thing which unnerved the muggle born Gryffindor.
“Why is everyone looking at me?”
He has no idea. He can’t even remember David thought to himself.
“Ben...I don’t know how to explain this because you couldn’t remember anything...but last year we found a letter on your person addressed to me signed from someone named ‘R’.”
“We think they are possibly related given the circumstances,” Rowan added. “But it’s a suspicious part of this whole mystery. Surely you remember something, right?”
“But I don’t!” Ben protested. “I don’t know what happened. One moment I’m on the train looking for you guys and the next thing I remember was waking up in a huge block of ice freezing to death. You believe me, right Dave?”
There was no lie in the boy’s eye. Someone like Ben was practically incapable of harming or hurting another human being and he’d come quite a ways from the frightened first year he once was.
“I do, Ben. Don’t worry, we’re not accusing you of anything. Just trying to connect the small amount of clues we have.”
Ben smiled in appreciation but that was not the end of the topic.
“I hope you aren’t lying to protect us. We can’t help each other unless we know what’s going on,” Rowan said, a harshness to his tone that wasn’t usually there.
Ben’s reply was honest but somewhat cool as he looked Rowan straight in the eye.
“I’m not lying to protect you, I promise.”
Sensing some tension Bill quickly interjected with a positive smile.
“Let’s worry about mystery maps and unexplained memory loss for another day. We’re here to celebrate together and that’s what counts. Now how bout some more butterbeer?”
And so they did, talking, laughing, rejoicing, talking about many subjects. Of particular interest was Penny and Rowan’s regalement of their role in distracting Pince, which took on a whole new dimension when Tonks set off the dungbomb too close for comfort (“It took so long to get the smell out of my braids!” the blonde remarked). Also of note was the fact that the Slytherin Quidditch team celebrated their victory by pulling a prank on top of the Astronomy Tower: hanging a pair of knickers which no one knew how they managed to pull off (“I could have done way better!” Tonks claimed). All in all, it was the perfect end of the year party.
After what seemed like hours and into the mid afternoon, Hagrid made an unexpected but welcome appearance.
“Arigh’ there David?” he boomed coming up to the table. “Celebratin’ with one last butterbeer before yeh all go home fer the holidays?”
“Right you are, Hagrid! Come on, pull up a chair. Join us.”
“I’d love teh, but I was actually sent ter give yeh a message.”
David cocked an eyebrow.
“And what would that be?”
“Professor Dumbledore wants teh see yeh in his office,” the large gameskeeper replied looking a bit sheepish.
The group immediately went silent as they all gave looks of concern that all indicated the obvious question: did Dumbledore, even in his absence, know all along?
“If it makes yeh feel better, Dave the boggarts are almost all gone,” Hagrid tried to reassure him upon witnessing his distress.
“Thank you. But I best not keep him waiting.”
He reluctantly drained his glass, gave a goodbye to his friends and prepared to face the music.
Maybe Tonks will have a detention buddy next year
He didn’t want to think about a possible worst outcome.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Surprisingly, the password to Dumbledore’s office was the same as it was the previous year ‘lemon drop’ which made David wonder if it was an unintentional design flaw or genius due to the fact that most young witches and wizards had no idea what a lemon drop was. Either way, he didn’t think the upcoming conversation was going to be about muggle sweets as he stepped past the gargoyle and up the rotating stairs.
Unlike the last instance in which he’d been inside this office, the outline and appearance was not as wondrous a second time though the layout was still quite impressive. And on this occasion, Dumbledore didn’t waste any time delving into the matter.
“Ah, Mr. Grant. Please come forward.”
David did so, quite afraid that the Headmaster was not going to be so forgiving and direct him to pack his bags, his wand to be snapped in two. The warning at the beginning of the year echoed loudly in his head. However, whatever the old man was feeling he gave no indication as the bearded face and sparkling blue eyes remained passively neutral.
“This has become something of a tradition,” Dumbledore began. “Our annual opportunity to discuss life, love, endless heroics, and egregious misbehavior.”
“It seems so, sir.”
He was almost tempted to give up right then and there but if there was one thing he’d learned about Dumbledore in his time at Hogwarts it was to expect the unexpected. Therefore he decided to say little for now.
“I understand much transpired in my two week absence.”
“Yes, Professor. More than you could imagine.”
“Even the wildest imaginations could not have come up with the tales retold to me,” Dumbledore said, that familiar twinkle returning to his eye. “Dragons in the common rooms, mummies in closets, werewolves in greenhouses, and Voldemort himself lurking in every cupboard.”
You have no idea
“There was more than one report that even I made an appearance in boggart form.”
“I’m surprised people would be afraid of you sir….by the way does this mean the boggarts are all gone?”
A knowing look passed over Dumbledore’s features.
“I believe you have already made the observation for yourself, David. However, yes most of them are gone. It is important to note, however, that boggarts can never truly be banished because they are born of human emotion. Fortunately they can be of some use. Defense Against the Dark Arts classes can practice ‘Ridikkulus’ on the remaining ones for years to come.”
There was a slight pause in which the old man put something away into his magnificent desk.
“But I’m sure that’s nothing compared to what you faced in this latest vault. Please, tell me everything.”
So he did know. David supposed there wasn’t any use in playing dumb anymore as almost nothing got by the Headmaster in the first place. Yet, it was still amazing to him that he was able to glean his transgressions regardless.
“Sir, I-”
“There is no need to lie, David in case you were thinking of doing so. You are not in trouble for the time being. Please be honest.”
Reassuring enough
The third year Gryffindor acquiesced. Though he left out the details of some parts such as Tulip’s plan, his brother’s room, and the full extent of Bill’s involvement, he was truthful to the letter about what horrors lay inside and the fact that his boggart was You Know Who. Upon finishing his tale Dumbledore took a moment to muse before responding.
“This is all quite fascinating. It seems as though someone else tampered with the vaults which released the multitudes of boggarts.”
“Yes, sir. Originally, I did try to do as you asked at the beginning of the year.”
“And do you know the reason why your boggart takes the form of Lord Voldemort?”
Resisting the urge to shudder at the name, David debated on how to properly answer. Though he gave Tulip a truthful answer before, it was not the full truth, one that had only just come to bear by virtue of entering the vault.
“It’s not You Know Who himself. It’s more what he represents.”
“And what does he represent to you?”
Dumbledore’s eyes were piercing over his half moon spectacles but they were also gentle and understanding giving his pupil ample time to respond. When David did finally answer, it was difficult to get the words out.
“Guilt,” he said with tremendous effort. “Guilt over Jacob and why he left. The rumors after his disappearance about joining You Know Who were constant. If you want a reason why I went after the vaults again that’s the main one. To try and find him...I heard his voice speaking to me in the vault again...”
He couldn’t continue but there was no need to say more as Dumbledore nodded empathetically.
“Naturally. And if I had such information I would certainly share it. However, the mystery of Jacob Grant remains. While I cannot speak to his location I can speak to my personal theory that he yet lives...your bond is proof of that.”
David nodded in return but he was unable to discuss his brother any longer. Switching gears, there was a question he had for Dumbledore as well.
“Professor, you’ve gone at certain points in each of the past two years. Where exactly have you been?”
“Ah yes, I believe it is my turn to answer some questions,” the old man said with good humor. “I take it you’ve heard the wild rumors.”
“Almost every single one.”
“Then you must have discerned I was not in France to discern the magical properties of champagne though it is rather tasty I must say,” Dumbledore chuckled. “No, I have been seeking the world’s finest curse breaker. One who has had intimate experience with the cursed vaults. An exceptional pupil of mine back when my beard was shorter and browner.”
“Who is she?” David couldn’t help but ask.
“A woman by the name of Patricia Rakepick. At present she is currently exploring recently discovered ruins under the Brazilian wizarding school Castelobruxo.”
Familiarity with that name rang through the teen’s head.
“Rakepick...I know that name. I gave Bill a book about her adventures in cursebreaking. I had no idea.”
“Indeed, she is considered one of the magical community’s premiere experts on the subject. When the next year begins, she will be at Hogwarts to assist us with these vaults. I am most interested in hearing her opinion of them and of you.”
Dumbledore’s face then turned stern but the blue eyes did not lose all of its twinkle.
“You have directly disobeyed me, yet you have also once again broken a curse that threatened the livelihood and safety of everyone here. I am running out of excuses for you, David. If you repeat this offense again with a professional on staff, I will not be able to insulate you from further punishment.”
This was the Headmaster at his most serious and despite his general easy going demeanor it was not lost on David that this was also the only man You Know Who ever feared. It would not do to openly argue.
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”
Dumbledore gestured towards his left, indicating a bright red and yellow bird, sitting on a perch in all its splendor.
“Actions are far better than apologies. Take Fawkes for example. From time to time the Phoenix is reborn- fresh and rejuvenated. You have that power too. Take the summer, and when you return to Hogwarts, start fresh.”
David nodded emphatically taking in the beauty of the Phoenix.
“Yes, sir. I’ll do my best.”
The old man’s faithful smile was back again.
“In the meantime, take one hundred points for Gryffindor. I daresay that might take the sting out of losing the Quidditch Cup this year.”
“You don’t know the half of...I mean, thank you, Professor.”
Dumbledore laughed heartily.
“I can always count on a whimsical remark from you in our conversations, David. However, there is one more thing I wish to tell you. Though the Vault of Fear has been broken it’s legacy remains ever present in our lives. Fear causes human beings to act in ways they would not normally, and though the Voldemort you fought was only a boggart, the real Dark Lord used the exact same method to gain followers and seize power. Remember that it is only by confronting our worst nightmares that we rise above them and truly become better people. No doubt that is one of many lessons you’ve taken this year.”
The wisdom was not lost on the young Gryffindor. He did not need to be afraid of Jacob or him joining You Know Who. The only method now was to move forward in continuing the search for his lost brother.
“Yes, sir.”
Feeling he was dismissed, David turned to leave but not before one last telling remark from the Headmaster.
“David, my last bit of wisdom was not aimed solely for you alone. There are many other students who could stand to start fresh next year. Including one miss Merula Snyde.”
He didn’t respond to that and didn’t need to. The implication was clear enough. Everyone was going to go through some changes in the coming months. What kind had still yet to be determined.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Dumbledore’s last second gesture allowed the Gryffindors to eek by the Slytherins for the House Cup, which did not sit well with the snakes, however given that it was the end of the year, it was too late to do much about it. The party in the tower the night before graduation was legendary. So much so that Angelica Cole even drunkenly admitted how much she cared for and would miss him.
“You’ll be a great prefect,” she slurred, firewhiskey in hand.
David wasn’t overly concerned with that. The naming of prefects for his peer group was still another year away and he knew that Rowan or Charlie were the most likely candidates anyway. At the forefront of his mind was the long summer ahead, a time of relaxation and fun for most people, but for the Grant family there would be little to no vacations. His father would stay stoically silent, his mother constantly hen pecking...only his grandfather seemed to truly sympathize with him.
I reap the consequences of Jacob’s absence, he thought to himself at one point. Mum and Dad are incapable of seeing that
Still, he was able to enjoy the train ride home with his friends, which was a small consolation for the isolated, controlled environment he could expect upon his return to Bath. He scanned the prophet for any signs of beat writers catching wind of the boggart problem at Hogwarts but saw nothing, not even from the notorious Rita Skeeter. Breathing a sigh of relief, he supposed that unless Dumbledore lettered his parents, they would never know he had disobeyed them as well.
“Are you okay, David?” Rowan asked.
He tossed aside the newspaper and rubbed his eyes.
“Yeah sorry, mate. Was just finishing up checking the Quidditch scores.”
“Seems like something else is on your mind, though.”
His best friend knew him better than most people, so he supposed it was fitting he’d realize not everything was settled inside (least of which the eggs and bacon he consumed that morning).
“This year was the most interesting one yet,” he said aloud as he looked out the window. “And yet I feel next year will be even more so. My gut tells me a lot is going to change.”
“It may,” Rowan acknowledged. “But it may not be all bad. You’ll see.”
David turned around and observed the group in front of him- Ben, Charlie, Tulip, and Penny, his hazel blue eyes dilating slightly at the two girls, noticing just how pretty they looked.
“Yeah...maybe you’re right.”
“Besides if there’s one thing I can count on it’s cursebreaking adventures with my best friend.”
David clapped an appreciative hand on Rowan’s shoulder, warmth rushing through his heart.
“Thanks, mate...you’re just interested in reading about the Forbidden Forest this summer aren’t you?”
Rowan laughed at the joke.
“You caught me. Now come on, let’s go play some exploding snap.”
And so they did, and David was able to enjoy the last few sunny hours on the train. All the while he was able to heed the lesson this latest vault had taught him. It did no good to live in fear, especially when you had friends to count on.
But as it was every year, the ride back to Platform nine and three quarters was always quicker than the journey from there. Soon, everyone was unloading their luggage, saying hello to their families against the backdrop of the sunkissed day and over the roar of the hissing steam emanating from the train.
“Another vault down, another one to go,” Bill told him with a grin, shaking his hand. “Can’t wait to do this again next year.”
“As always, Bill. And who knows maybe we can finally get Charlie involved.”
“If you manage to get him away from dragons and Quidditch you might have a shot,” the elder Weasley laughed. “My folks are waiting in the parking lot, but make no mistake mum is very keen to meet you. We have to invite you for Christmas some time.”
“I’d be honored.”
Next was Tulip who had that ever present mischievous smirk but it was much softer in the presence of a farewell.
“Take care, David Grant. You’re a very intriguing person, and I can safely say I’m very glad I met you.”
“I could say the same about you, Tulip,” he responded genuinely. “Nothing we did this year would have happened without you.”
The eccentric Ravenclaw responded with something quite unexpected. She kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his hand once more.
“You’re many things, David Grant. Boring least of all, but most of all a good person. Can’t wait to make more mischief in the fall.”
She winked at him and ran off to join two people, which looked like her parents, one was a stern looking Japanese man with a bowler hat, the other an Irish woman with flowing red hair who also gave no visible emotion on her face. David felt a pang of empathy go through him. His parents may be strict, but he could only imagine what Tulip went through during the summer. He made a point of reference to write to her. Something told they’d both need it.
After exchanging goodbyes with Rowan and Ben, Penny was the last to see him off.
“Summer always seems dreadfully long even if it is my favorite time of year,” Penny told him. “Feel free to write me any time.”
“You know I will,” David said with a smile. “I’ll need all the post I can get.”
The blonde girl rubbed his arm encouragingly.
“It’s not forever, Dave. We’ll see each other again before you know it. Enjoy the holiday with your family!”
David supposed she didn’t know the true origins of his post semester blues, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her it was his family that was precisely the problem.
“I will, Penny. Thank you.”
For the second time in as many instances, he received a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, causing him to go red and touch the spot where he received the affectionate gesture, which made Penny giggle.
“See you next year, cursebreaker of Hogwarts.”
The last thing David had expected was two kisses on the cheek from two of his best female friends and it made him feel quite funny on the inside.
He had little time to dwell on these feelings however as his parents came into view a brown haired man with a goatee and a short blonde woman, waving and walking towards him.
“David!” his mom gushed, giving him an enormous hug. “So glad to see you safe and well. How are you? Did your exams go well?”
“Now, now let him breathe Heather,” his dad said with a light chuckle. “He just got off the train.” He ruffled his son’s dark brown hair in a show of affection. “It is good to see you safe and well, David.”
“Do you have your things unloaded and ready to go? Are you hungry?”
“Don’t worry, mum. I’m all set,” he said quickly to reassure her. Not even a minute in he was already tired of her smothering.
“Very good then, can’t blame a mother for asking.”
“I rented out a ‘Chevro’ something,” his father mentioned to him as they began to walk away from the platform. “Yank automobile. Runs pretty well, I know we can apparate but I’m thinking of buying one for myself. Dead useful these things.”
“John, please keep your voice down lest the entirety of muggle London know what we are.”
“Apologies, dear.”
His mother turned to face him and beamed a great smile but as it was since his brother disappeared there was a subtle sadness and anxiety within them.
“I have good news. We’re going to visit my side of the family this summer at their house for a get together. My brother is having another baby soon. I hope you’re ready for it.”
David thought back to his friends, his Professors, Dumbledore, the map, the broken arrow and the lively face of Jacob whispering to never give up. He looked up at his parents, two people whose lives were still run by fear...fear of losing him.
“Yes,” he replied. “I am.”
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donghyuwus · 4 years
Text
jisung | dream a little dream au #2
⋆ pairing: jisung x fem!reader (ft. nct dream)
⋆ words: 3,279
⋆ category: fantasy!au, thriller, fluff will come in future parts
⋆ warnings: a bit of dark shit and people not being displayed they are irl, mention of alcohol and spirits
⋆ summary: this boy from school has been showing up in your dreams maybe a bit too much lately and what is up with his friends and that weird green door? when you decide to see what kind of secrets lay behind it you are met by a whole other world, dark secrets, a big crush, but evil is watching behind one of those doors. dreaming: upgraded
⋆ disclaimer: this au is inspired by one of my favourite books ever: silber aka dream a little dream. it isn’t my intention to steal the writers work and copy her book. I took the concept and some aspects of it and came up with this au. I strongly recommend reading her book if you liked this!
click here to read the other parts: one
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‘Grab her.’
Before you could even try to run away Renjun and Jeno had already grabbed you by the shoulders and lifted you up. Both of them held one of your arms while they and the other boys walked you around the hallways.
It is just a dream, it is just a dream, it is just a dream. You kept chanting in your head while also quietly whispering it, nobody of them noticed because they were busy finding the right path, except for Jisung. He walked beside Jeno, on the right side of you. The boy noticed the scared look you had on your face and the whispers you were letting out. It was nagging him seeing you like that.
‘Guys,’ he spoke, making the boys stop in their track and turning their head towards him, ‘I think it’s best if we just bring her back to her own door and into her own dream.’ Haechan clearly didn’t like the sound of that and rolled his eyes. ‘And why would we do that Jisung? She spied on us. I wanna know how much she knows and have seen. Nobody is supposed to know about this.’ Your eyes shut up at him. ‘I won’t tell anyone what I’ve seen, trust me. I didn’t even know what I saw, or what this is or where we are.’ Chenle nodded his head, ‘You know what maybe Jisung is right, remember the first time we got here, we barely remembered that, it was all very vague, it needed a lot of practice before our memories could handle all of this. So maybe if we bring her back she will forget about it all in the morning.’ ‘And if not, we will make that happen.’ Jaemin grinned, a bit too creepy in your opinion.
‘Okay, okay,’ Haechan agreed, ‘We’ll bring them back. But if we ever see her here again or she speak about what took place here to anyone, there will be consequences. Understood?’ You shook your head violently, relieved that they would let you go. A quick glance towards Jisung and you noticed he was smiling to himself, he looked like he was the only one having real mercy with you.
After a while of walking around the same bright hallways with loads of doors and turns, you finally made it to the familiar dark green door with the fancy brown handle. Jeno and Renjun both let go of your arms and took a step back. ‘You wanted to bring her here, you go and drop her off inside, Jisung.’ Haechan spoke. By the way of things you noticed that either he or Mark seemed to be the leader of the pack. ‘We need to go now, because of this inconvenience we have quite a lot of things to catch up on now.’ He said while giving you a dirty look. Well damn, somebody didn’t like you. The boys gave you one last glance before wandering off together in the hallway, leaving you alone with the youngest of them all. The boy shyly smiled down at you before grabbing the wooden doorhandle and pushing it down, opening the door and revealing a large field of grass.
‘Shall we?’ He asked as he stepped inside and reached out his hand for you to grab. Hesitantly you grabbed it and stepped inside as well. Jisung closed the door behind you, while you looked at your surroundings, you remember it changed since you left the place. Instead of your friends hanging out around the school at lunchbreak, it was just an insanely large field of grass and nothing else. Just you and Jisung standing there. With that thought in your head you suddenly remembered you were still holding his hand and quickly pulled it back before you looked creepy. A slight, deep chuckle escaped his lips at your actions. You felt yourself getting more awkward and didn’t really know what to do. This whole thing has been a lot and you don’t even know how to begin processing what had just happened out there in those hallways and in that weird-looking forest.
Jisung sat down on the grass and as if he could read your mind he spoke: ‘It’s a lot right? What you just saw?’ You nodded and sat down beside him, your eyes staring at him, hoping he would explain. The boy started plucking some grass out of the ground before he started talking. ‘You know, we aren’t as mean or as scary as we look. Haechan just doesn’t want this to go bad.’ ‘What to go bad?’ ‘That’s a long story. I’ll save it for another time, if I’m even allowed to see or visit you again.’ He quickly glanced at you and you could see the worry in his eyes. ‘Why wouldn’t you be allowed to see me again? Did I do something wrong by stepping into those hallways?’ A sigh escaped his lips. ‘It’s just- don’t do it again, okay? It could be dangerous. Plus the boys were nice to you this time and I could talk them out of their plans, I don’t know if I could do that again. Also you are lucky, so lucky Mark didn’t see you.’ Your eyebrows frowned at his words. Mark? What would have happened if Mark had seen you? You decided to stop asking questions because you could see Jisung didn’t really like talking about the topic. But you had one left.
‘This is all a dream right?’ The boy stopped plucking the grass and his eyes looked at yours. He blinked and thought for a while before he answered. ‘Yes, yes this all a dream.’ While nodding your head, you sighed in relief. That’s when the familiar sound surrounded the environment. This time you knew what it was and weren’t scared by it. Your alarm rang and rang while the ground started to shake a little. Jisung sighed before jumping up. ‘I guess it’s time to go.’ You saw the slightest bit of disappointment on his face and it confused you a little. But before you could question it you became dizzy. The boy walked towards the door and you turned your head to look at him and wave him goodbye. He smiled at you before opening it. ‘Stay safe.’ ‘Wait will I see you again?’ But it was too late, he had already closed the door and you became even dizzier. That’s when you woke up.
That day felt like a haze. Dark circles had appeared under your eyes and you felt like you didn’t even sleep that night. You were oh so tired and confused. Vague, short flashbacks popped up in your head about your dreams and what happened that night but you couldn’t bring your mind to memorize any of it. It left you frustrated. At school you payed even less attention than usual because of sleepiness and frustration. Which made it even worse was that the Dreamies kept on giving you glances while walking trough the hallway or at lunch. What was their problem?
You were putting your books into your locker after your last period when this girl from your math class suddenly approached you and stopped by your side. Never have you talked to her in your whole life, so it wasn’t a surprise that you were confused by her. ‘Can I-’ ‘You need to stay away from them y/n.’ ‘Excuse me what? Who?’ She stepped even closer, that’s when you noticed she was quite a bit taller than you. Not gonna lie, it was intimating. Slowly she bended down so her face was at the same level as your ear. ‘They are dangerous. Stay away.’ Without saying anything else she stood up straight again, gave you an innocent smile and walked off. Startled you stood there not knowing what had just happened, how she knew your name or who she was talking about. It took you a few seconds before you quickly finished what you were doing, packed your bag and headed out of school. On your way out of the school terrain you noticed the Dreamies sitting outside on a grass field. They looked like they were doing their homework out there. You didn’t question it, it was amazing weather, especially since it was mid spring, so not too hot nor too cold. That’s when your eyes landed on Jisung. You stopped in your tracks. He was plucking the grass. He was plucking the grass. He was plucking the grass. You blinked, once, twice. The third time he looked up. The fourth time he noticed your blank stare and your open mouth. The fifth time he whispered ‘shit’. The sixth time he stood up and was heading your way.
It was time to run. So you did. Running wasn’t your strongest point but if it was necessary you could manage. The memories of your dreams, clear as day now spooking trough your mind. The door, the hallways, the other doors, the bright lights, that weird forest, the strange ritual, being caught, not speaking about what had happened, being brought back, a grass field, Jisung plucking grass. It was right there. Just like Jisung was also right here. Wait, what?
You bumped right into his chest as he was standing right in front of you. He was panting and so were you. How? He was chasing you. How is he in front of you? Before you could undertake any action he grabbed your arm and dragged you with him. ‘No.’ ‘What ‘no’?’ ‘I am done with you and your friends dragging me around, let me go.’ ‘So you do indeed remember it.’ He sighed out while still holding you and bringing you with him. You knew damn well you had almost no chance trying to escape from him, clearly he is stronger, taller and faster than you. So you just gave in, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you anyway. Most likely he was just going to have a talk with you about not telling anyone what you had seen. Why was it such a big deal anyways? You were honestly so confused.
After a while of walking he stopped at, what you assumed, his house. He let go of you to grab the key in his pocket and opened the door. As he stepped inside you followed. ‘Wait here.’ Alone he left you in his hallway as he walked away to another room. You looked around you at the environment. The hallway was quite small and looked cosy, lots of brown and wooden elements. A coat rack with a few coats on it was standing to the left of you, close to the door. Two potted plants were placed next to the staircase, they were quite big. There were photos on the wall of Jisung and what you assumed his brother when they were little, his parents at their wedding and some more recent family photos. You found yourself staring at Jisung and his nice smile for longer than you would have liked when Jisung himself entered the hallway with two cups of water. ‘What are you smiling at?’ He asked confused before tracing back to where you were looking earlier. ‘Oh nothing.’ A frown appeared on his head after your mumble. ‘Anyways, shall we?’ He asked before pointing upstairs.
You went first and he followed. ‘The door on the right.’ And so you opened the door on your right and stepped inside. After he stepped inside he placed the cups on the desk and closed the door before sitting down on his bed. He patted the place beside him, signing you to come and sit down, and so you did. You both were quiet for a while before he started speaking. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you with me like that, I just panicked after knowing you remembered everything. I’m also sorry for what happened last night. You must be so confused and even though the boys kill me if they find out, I’m just gonna be honest with you.’ There was a pause before he stood up again and grabbed the cups of water and gave one to you and drank some of the other.
‘So basically where it all started was Halloween night and as you know, we are a bit too old for trick or treat now and instead we were at a party. And some of us, not gonna throw names around, were a bit too wasted. So my friends, Stacy and I decided to do something fun and spooky. We-’ ‘Who is Stacy?’ You interrupted the boy. ‘Don’t you know her? We have math with her. Tall, blonde girl, ex of Mark?’ That’s when you mind wandered of to earlier today.
‘You need to stay away from them y/n.’
‘They are dangerous. Stay away.’
Deciding not to bring it up you keep it at an ‘Oh yeah, that girl’ and continue to listen to what Jisung has to stay. ‘Anyways Stacy decided it was a fun idea to summon a bad spirit in exchange for our wishes to be granted, from one of the many weird witchy books her parents own. I knew it was bad idea and had a whole discussion with everyone how it was insanely stupid. Eventually the boys told me it was probably going to be nothing and that we had nothing to worry about, that it was all fake and blah blah blah. So we did it anyway, we all had to put some of our blood into this weird cup and write our wishes onto a small piece of paper before burning it together with our blood, while Stacy was chanting some weird Latin sentences.’ He paused and fumbled with his fingers, you could tell he was getting nervous and placed your own hand over his thigh to calm him down. For a moment he looked up at you and smiled lightly before continuing. ‘Anyways nothing happened for a few days, and I started to believe my friends, that it was all bullcrap. That was until Jeno’s wish suddenly came true.’ ‘What did he wish for?’ ‘Sounds stupid, but you know how Jeno is on the basketball team right?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Well he wished to win every match his team plays. And ever since the ritual they never lost one.’ You frowned of confusion. ‘Well maybe they just got really good.’ No, you weren’t going to believe such a stupid thing. ‘Well yeah, that is what I thought at first too. Then Renjun’s wish came true. He wished to be accepted into the art college he dreams to go to next year. And he got accepted. After that Jaemin followed, he just made up a wish on the spot and because he didn’t believe it he made it stupid, he wished that our friend group would be the most popular and eye-catching everywhere we go, and now because of that we are indeed so popular, I don’t like it whatsoever.’
Without thinking about it you let out a chuckle. ‘I’m sorry but this seems just like a lot of coincidences, it doesn’t surprise you guys are popular, everyone of you is handsome and nice. Renjun is amazing at art and as I said Jeno and his team just got better.’ ‘My wish came true.’ ‘And what did you wish for?’ It was silent. ‘That’s personal. I don't want to talk about it. But it came true.’ You respected his privacy and kept quiet. Clearly he did believe in all of this. ‘Anyways,’ he continued, ‘after that Halloween night everyone of us noticed a certain door appear in our dream. At first we didn’t think much of it until Haechan did some exploring and found out there was a bright white hallway behind his door. He told us one night that as soon as we fell asleep we should go trough the door and that was when we all saw each other in that hallway. It was so confusing at first. We just stayed in the hallway and talked to each other. The next day we barely remembered it until Haechan brought it up to us. It was weird, like we shared the same dream. After that we tried it a couple more times. We went trough each others doors and saw each others dreams. We tried going trough other doors, the doors we assumed belonged to other people. It didn’t work, it wouldn't open. The only way we could come in was if that person let us in trough the hallway. Another way was to hold and item that belonged to that certain person on you while you were sleeping. We discovered that after many trial and errors though.’ Jisung let out a sigh and dropped his head on the bed,  and was now laying down on.
‘It was all fun and games in the beginning. Spying around in other people’s dreams here and there, trying to find out which door belongs to who, training ourselves to change the environments of dreams and to change ourselves into certain things and people. That was until Stacy met us in the hallway one day. She said we had upset the spirit and that if we wanted to keep him happy and keep our wishes granted and visit these hallways, we must do certain rituals in our dreams and in real life once in a while. We were scared and didn’t want things to get ruined so we listened and do those things.’ The room went silent and you looked down at the boy laying next to you, his eyes were on you. ‘But if you guys had to do all those things to get out there, how did I manage to get to these hallways?’ ‘Honestly, I wouldn’t know. Maybe it’s because-’ Jisung got cut off when his brother entered the door. ‘Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a guest over.’ The tall boy looked over at you and back to Jisung before smiling brightly. ‘I’m Minjun, Jisung’s older brother. We are having dinner in a minute, wanna have dinner with us?’ You looked over at Jisung who hold up his shoulders, leaving it up to you to decide. ‘Yeah sure, thank you.’ And so you did.
Dinner was amazing, Jisung’s parents were really nice and asked you all sorts of question, never was it really quiet. Minjun was really talkative as well. The only being silent was Jisung. That however changed real quick when you two went upstairs again and both chilled and laid down on his bed. You asked him all sorts of questions about the doors, the hallways, the rituals, how to change into this or that. He answered everything and even promised you to teach you some stuff. You two were talking for so long and didn’t even notice the change of time. Until the both of you got quite sleepy. Jisung was answering one of your questions when he realized you had gone real quiet, even your breathing was slower. He glanced beside him and noticed you had already fallen asleep. And before he wanted to he drifted away as well.
It didn’t take Jisung long to find your door and step inside. He looked around and noticed he seemed to be in a kitchen, you were standing at a counter mixing something. It looked like you were baking. Creeping up on you from behind he wanted to surprise you, he stopped in his tracks however when he heard the door behind him open up again. Slowly he turned around only to be met by himself standing in the door opening grinning at him.
‘What the fuck.’
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welcometophu · 4 years
Text
Not Your Guardian Angel: Chapter 15
Marked Book 3: Not Your Guardian Angel
Chapter 15
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“It wasn’t supposed to be this cold today, was it?” Pels tries to curl into a small ball in her spot in the bleachers; maybe that’ll help her stay warm. She swears she remembers a forecast in the mid 60s, which is why she wore a hoodie for the morning, but didn’t bother to grab a hat or gloves. Or a heavier jacket. On the other hand, it’s April in the Northeast, so it’s possible someone got something epically wrong.
Cass purses her lips and opens the bag at her feet and yanks out a blanket. She spreads it out over her knees and Pels’s, somehow ignoring the fact that Shane might be cold, too. “You get used to these things when your boyfriend plays football,” she says curtly.
Shane nudges a little closer on Pels’s other side, one arm around her back. “I thought it’d be warmer, too. Although I don’t think it bothers Jess that much.”
Jess is down by the fence, standing so she can jump and shout as the runners pass by. Maybe that much movement is keeping her warm.
“Is this okay?” Shane asks, tugging her a little closer.
Cass makes a low sound that might be amusement.
“Yeah, it’s fine.” This is their second track meet, and this time Pels has a better idea what to expect, although the cold wasn’t part of it. Even though the sun is climbing higher, she swears the temperature is dropping rapidly. She holds up her hands, blowing on them before Shane reaches to take one, wrapping his fingers around hers.
Okay. One warm hand, one warm body, one set of fingers still freezing. It’s not all bad.
“Did you hear about the freak storm?” Two girls and a guy pass by them on the stairs up the bleachers. They’re wearing hats emblazoned with the name of the Albany college that’s hosting the meet. “I heard it rolled in suddenly, coming down from the Adirondacks into Unity, reaching as far as Valiant before it just petered out.”
Pels sits upright, looks over at Cass. “Did you hear that?”
“Yeah.” Cass gets her phone out, unlocking it to bring up the news. “Severe weather warnings, and over an inch of snow in an hour back in Unity, right out of previously clear skies,” she says quickly. She starts tapping on the keyboard furiously.
Pels has to slip away from Shane enough to get her own phone out. There are no texts, but she sees the notice about the unusual and unexpected weather. It may not have snowed here, but she suspects that’s where the sudden cold came from.
And drastic changes to weather might be a good sign.
“They’re back.” Cass sets her phone down on the bench beside her. “Mac and Carolyn and Heather have all been in touch with people at the house. The storm was probably Nikita. I mean. I didn’t hear that for certain, but—”
“Freak storms are usually my roommate,” Pels agrees. At least they have been so far this school year. Nikita’s the first Weather Witch she’s known with that little control over her own magic.
It’s a good thing to hear that Nikita’s back. And Alaric, and everyone else who disappeared, including Professor Szczek. They’ll hear about what happened soon enough. It’s just enough right now to know… she looks at Cass. “Are they all back?” she asks, to confirm. “Is everyone okay?”
“As far as I know, they’re all back,” Cass agrees.
Pels picks up her phone and sends two texts. The first to Jennifer just says, I heard she’s back.
She spends more time thinking about the text to Rory. I heard about the storm, so Nikita’s back, she says. And Cass says that Carolyn and Mac and Heather are back. So Alaric must be back, too.
You’re with Cass?
That wasn’t quite the reaction she was expecting. I asked Jess to bring me to Albany so I could watch Nate run. We ended up bringing Shane and Cass as well. It’s really cold here, she explains.
I’m going to go see Kit.
Her phone goes silent, and she assumes that means that Rory is taking care of his boyfriend. Or maybe they’ll meet up with Alaric. She doesn’t know, but she’s glad for them.
Her life will be a little more chaotic with Nikita back, but she’s safe, and that means all is well. She can get through the remaining month and a half before the semester is over. She’s weathered worse.
Of course, knowing why it’s cold doesn’t change the fact that it still is much colder than they expected when setting out that morning. Pels shivers, and Shane pulls her back close to him, sharing his body heat. She feels like she should be anxious, but she also really just wants to be warm.
“I’m going to go get some coffee.” Cass’s gaze flicks from Pels to Shane, then to where Jess is hanging over the fence talking to someone from another team. “I’ll bring back enough for all of us.” She shoves the blanket onto Pels’s lap, leaving Pels to share it with Shane. Cass stalks down the stands, stopping by Jess to tap her roughly on the shoulder and say something that looks more like an order than a request.
“She’s a personality,” Shane says quietly.
“I don’t mind her,” Pels admits. Cass still feels familiar to her, in that angry, defensive kind of way. She straightens the blanket over her knees, making sure Shane has enough. “Maybe we can convince her to share the blanket with Jess when they get back, since you’re warm for me. Or you could warm up Jess while I share the blanket with Cass.”
It takes her a moment to realize that the strange rumbling she feels is Shane laughing.
Her cheeks are warm because she’s not sure exactly what she said, but she’s pretty sure it must’ve been an innuendo. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know.” Shane’s hand slides over her arm, which is weirdly comforting and very warming all at once. “And it wouldn’t be the first time Jess and I have cuddled, either. We’ve shared beds, shared jackets, tried to keep each other warm at football games. It just hasn’t been sexual. Or particularly romantic.”
“Could it be?” Pels is curious how this is meant to work, with this smudge and mountain on her wrist. In moments like this she feels like she’s coming between two people who already have everything sorted out, and she’s just the odd person out.
“I have known that Jess likes girls since before I fully figured out that I like girls,” Shane admits quietly. His head tilts towards hers, gathering her close as they watch runners go by. “So it was never an option I bothered to consider. If you’re asking if I could be attracted to her physically? Probably. Do I love her? I’ve loved her since we were kids, but I just never thought about anything other than that. She’s a part of my life. She’s my best friend, and whatever’s going on, she’s still going to be that.”
“This is a complication you weren’t expecting.” It’s not a question in Pels’s mind.
“Are you asking if you’re an unwelcome problem?” Shane asks. He sits up, nudges her back and she’s cold, abruptly, at the loss of him against her. “Because that answer is no. Unexpected? Yes. You already know that Jess has her own crush on you, but I can’t say that being with you would be unwelcome. I think you’re cute. You’re intriguing. You… have a lot of baggage, but then, so do I.” His gaze flicks over her shoulder.
“If you’re looking for my Dad, yes, he’s probably here somewhere,” Pels says quietly. “I don’t really get a lot of privacy.”
“That could be awkward in the future.” Shane slides a hand over her cheek. She shivers at the touch, not sure if she should run away or lean into it. “Some things—”
“Incoming,” Dad whispers in her ear.
Pels jerks back just in time for Jess to drop onto the bench in front of them with Cass. “Oh.”
Shane lowers his hand, picking up the blanket and nudging it onto Pels’s lap. He slides to make space between them, then taps Jess’s back with his toe. “Hey. You cold?”
Jess turns to face them, her cheeks red in a way that Pels can’t tell if she’s flushed or freezing. “Why?” Her voice is tight, her gaze drifting away from Pels.
Pels bites her lip. She feels like she’s screwed up, and she’s not sure how to fix it. But it doesn’t feel good, either. “This is why,” she mutters.
“Why what? Why you don’t try? Because they can’t hurt you if you don’t reach out, and you can’t hurt them either?” Dad sits on her other side, gently bumping her. “You could just bridge that gap, let the mark happen, and see where it goes.”
Not yet. Pels isn’t ready to jump in the deep end when she’s barely treading water in the shallow end. She glances over to find Jess staring at her. Pels blinks, and Jess ducks her head, moving up to sit on Shane’s other side. Shane slides closer to her, one arm around Jess’s waist, and Pels can see what he meant. They are obviously comfortable in each other’s spaces, whispering together as Jess seems to tell some kind of story. They share a single coffee that looks far too sweet and light for Pels’s taste.
Pels feels alone in a way she hasn’t felt in a long, long time. It’s uncomfortable.
“Here.” Cass deposits the box with two coffees left in it on Pels’s lap. “Take one, leave the other for the happy couple over there.”
“They’re not a—”
“I know.” Cass grabs the blanket, pulling it over her own knees as she slides closer to Pels. Dad’s gone, although Pels feels his hand on her shoulder so he must still be nearby. Cass continues, “I am more than aware of how friendship works between the sexes. Also, I’m sorry we interrupted your moment.”
Pels puts the box with one cup left on the bench between her and Shane. Two little creamers and a packet of sugar rattle across the bottom of the box when she moves it. “It’s okay. Not so sure it was a moment I’m ready to have.”
Cass makes a low noise. “Whatever. I ran into Dax while we were getting coffee. He says Nate’s jumping out of his skin for some reason today, so he’s sending him up here before their last race. He seems to think we’ll do a better job of settling him than he will.”
“Hard to believe that one,” Pels mumbles before she thinks better of it.
Cass is stiff next to her. “We agree on that. But. We will do our best.”
Pels spots them on the field, Dax and Nate talking to a man wearing a jacket and hat with the PHU shield on them. Dax points, and Nate heads off the field so he can climb the bleachers to meet up with them.
Pels moves closer to Cass, making space between herself and the coffee, and Cass obediently slides over. Nate takes the offered spot in the middle of the group.
“You’re allowed up here mid-meet?” Jess asks.
Shane holds out the remaining cup of coffee, and Nate waves it off, holding up his water bottle instead.
“We’re allowed to go anywhere we want, as long as we stay within earshot of the track, and don’t do anything illicit or stupid,” Nate says. “There’s so much wait time that a lot of competitors will spend time with their friends in the stands if someone came to watch. We just need to stay warmed up.” He’s wearing a track suit today, in deference to the cold. Pels has to wonder if that really is warm enough, given how far the temperature dropped.
“Dax said you were antsy,” Cass says, her gaze sharp on him. She lifts the blanket, and Pels does her best to make it stretch over all three of their knees. It makes the three of them squeeze close together, and she feels a little awkward squished in the middle.
“I’ll be fine when I’m running again.” Nate hunches over, gaze fixed on the runners on the track. “Everything just falls away when my feet are moving. I can lose myself in the rhythm and forget everything else.”
“What are you worried about?” Pels asks.
He shrugs, and she can feel the motion with him pressed so close to her. “I’ve got a thing to do with my dad tomorrow, and it’s just—that means I’ve got to do a thing with my dad.”
That makes complete sense to Pels. Even from the little he said that one night, she can’t imagine that actively having to spend time interacting with his father is a good time. “That sucks,” she says.
“Mm.” Nate agrees with only that sound, and for a minute Pels thinks that’ll be it.
Then Cass gets involved.
“Why?” She asks. Her tone is a shade to sharp to be kind.
Nate sits up, swiveling to look at her. “Why what? Why does it even matter to you? You’ve got Dax to yourself tomorrow. Just be glad. No morning run. Don’t complain when you’ve been bitching to him about—” He cuts off abruptly, palm over his own face. “Pretend I said none of that. My Dad and I don’t get along, and we haven’t for a long time. If we didn’t have to, we wouldn’t even pay attention to the other’s existence. It’s just how we are. He pays the bills; I stay out of the way. It works for us.”
Cass’s expression gentles. “I’m sorry,” she says. “My Dad and—” She seems to reconsider her words. “We get along. But I’ve seen it.” She looks down at her cup of coffee, cradled in both her hands, and brings it up for a sip. “Is he pissed off because you’re….” She trails off, waving a hand in his direction.
Nate blinks. “What?”
“Did you start fighting when you came out?” Cass asks.
Pels would really like to slither out of this position between the two of them, but there isn’t really anywhere for her to go. She tries to see just how small she can get instead.
Nate snorts. “Is he pissed off I’m gay? No. Is yours pissed off that you’re straight?”
“What?” Cass startles, laughing awkwardly. “Okay. I think I see your point. I was just trying to understand you. Since you and Dax are friends.”
“I’m just on edge,” Nate admits. “It’s a bad weekend for me. Anyway. If you don’t get along with your Dad, feel free to join the club.”
Cass looks at Pels, then past Nate at Shane and Jess. “Some of us must have good relationships with our parents.”
Jess raises a hand. “I get along great with both of mine, and Shane’s good with his. If anyone needs spare parents, mine are great about taking in strays, too.”
“Is that why you were ready to take me in?” Pels asks. The words are out before she really considers her words, or the way it’ll bring Cass’s attention to her in sudden sharp focus. “Um.”
“I take it you are part of the not getting along with your father club?” Cass asks.
Of course, Dad’s sitting on the bench in front of them, his elbows on his knees, chin on his hand, waiting for her response. “That’s a complicated answer,” Pels admits. “I have a strained relationship with my Mom—she’s intensely conservative. I don’t get along with my stepfather at all because he makes Mom look liberal. He hates people with Talent, and I’m Talented. As for my Dad… well… I’d like him more if he weren’t with me every second of every day.”
“I’m wounded.” Dad puts a hand on his heart. “I give you privacy.”
“Randomly. When you feel like it,” Pels retorts.
Jess sits upright, looking at her, then in front of her as if she might be able to see who she’s talking to. “Wait. Is your guardian angel your dad?”
“Didn’t you know that?” Shane asks.
“You have a guardian angel?” Cass asks at the same time, leaning closer.
“I’m torn between being proud right now, and worried that you’ve bitten off more than you’re willing to chew,” Dad murmurs. “You okay?”
Pels glances at Nate. He’s leaning back, and looks a little more relaxed now that the attention is off of him. She knocks his knee with hers under the blankets, and he smiles at her slightly. “Yeah,” she says. “My guardian angel is my dad. He died before I was born, but he’s basically been with me since I was born. So if any of you have ever thought you have helicopter parents, let me tell you, I have you beat.”
Cass’s brow is furrowed, and she’s staring at Pels again. Pels doesn’t like that stare, the one that seems like Cass is trying her hardest to peer past her skin. Pels crosses her arms, sinking back against Nate, who puts a hand on her shoulder to balance her.
Interesting. Nate’s hand on her shoulder is, well… a hand. It’s warm, and comfortable. Comforting, really. But there are no bees, and no lava.
Huh.
She files that thought away for another time, because Cass is halfway through a sentence and Pels has completely missed what she said. “What?” Pels asks.
Cass huffs. “Dax sees ghosts,” she points out in slowly enunciated words. “He talks to them. Finds out what they want and then helps them achieve that, and settles them so they can move on.”
Dad pats Pels’s knee and stands up. “I think you’ve got this,” he says. He moves through the crowd—literally through some of the people sitting on the bleachers—as he walks away.
“He’s a guardian angel, not a ghost,” Pels says. Still, it doesn’t escape her that the second it came up, he walked away rather than confront the issue.
And he wasn’t with them at Teas Please that night Dax joined them, either.
She presses her lips together, uncertain about this line of thought. Because if Dad’s a ghost, and Dax helps them move on… she stops that train of thought right there and shakes her head. “We’re good,” she says emphatically.
“I’m just saying—”
“Cass, leave it.” Nate cuts Cass off before she can get started. “If it’s something Dax needs to do, I’m sure it’ll happen. Doesn’t he have enough going on with Orson stuck in his head?”
“Oh, shit,” Cass mutters. “You’re right. Now that everyone’s back, they’ve probably brought all the drama with them. I’m sure I’ll hear all about it when I get back to the house.”
Nate carefully moves the blanket back to Pels’s lap, so she can more easily spread it over hers and Cass’s knees. “I should probably get back to the field. Thanks. I feel better.” He bounces on his toes when he stands, and Pels can feel the way the bleachers give and move a little with the impact, the same way they do when someone climbs up. “I’m going to go do some more warmups. Keep moving, since it’s so cold out. We’ll have to take the team bus back to campus after, but you can meet Dax when we get back. I’m heading home tonight.”
Cass looks up at him, her brow furrowed as she bites her lip. “Okay,” she agrees. For a moment it looks like she might say something else, then Nate turns and heads back towards the field.
“I’m going to—” Jess cuts off, waving at the fence. She catches up with Nate halfway down, throwing her arms around him in a tackling hug before she lets him go.
Shane slides closer to Pels, and she’s thankful for the return of his heat. Cass is silent, for once, expression thoughtful as she watches Nate walk onto the field.
Dad’s nowhere to be seen.
Pels isn’t going to think about Dax and his ghost-hunting Talent. Dad doesn’t need to be hunted. Or settled. Or whatever it is that Dax does. Dad is just… Dad. There’s nothing Pels can do about him, and as annoying as it can be sometimes, that’s also just the way things are. It’s what she’s used to, and she doesn’t need it to change.
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enbycalicocat · 4 years
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Day 13: 8th of February, 2021
.
XiaoFeng had read many transmigration novels. And when the word many was used, it really did mean many. Transmigrating was his dream. His fervent wish. So much, that the day he woke up and found himself in a strange room the first thing he thought was not, “I’ve been kidnapped.” It was, “I’ve been sent to another world!”
 There was just no other explanation. He had gone to sleep the day before, sick, coughing, body aching all over, and barely breathing. And now he felt full of energy and had no difficulty moving or breathing.
 Hence, the first thing he did was look into the mirror. He had absolutely no doubt in his mind that he had transmigrated and wanted to see how he looked now, so he just confidently got up, and walked into the bathroom. He was lucky to be right. Else, the thugs that might’ve held him hostage would’ve harmed him for that.
When he saw his reflection, he gasped, and immediately fell in love with himself. XiaoFeng now had the biggest bluest eyes he’d ever seen in his life. On top of his head was a flop of endearing dark brown curls that pointed in every direction. His skin was porcelain white, smooth and vulnerable and lush.
If this wasn’t the body he currently owned, XiaoFeng might just date himself. Too bad the body was already taken over.
 After having detailed his face, he observed the rest of his body to get hints from it. Hmmm. White, button-up, long-sleeved shirt, suspenders, trousers, boots. All very old fashioned. The fabric was coarse but thick, designed for the cold weather most probably. Looking around he didn't find a jacket, but he did find a waistcoat. The material for that was also very rough. XiaoFeng concluded that that he was not from a very wealthy family. Other than that... Well, the clothes might belong to the early 1900s. He wasn’t very sure though, because he didn’t know much about western fashion.
 Suddenly the ground tilted and XiaoFeng lost his footing. When the ground became stable again, he froze for a second. And then he felt it and heard it: the rush of water.
 The boy ran out of his room and found the halls looked oddly familiar. Very, very familiar. As if taken out of something he’d been watching just yesterday. His stomach sank as he vaguely sensed where he’d been sent to.
 Please, he begged. For the first time he wasn’t ecstatic about his transmigration anymore. He ran up the stairs, panic coursing through his veins, his chest feeling tight, his stomach aching, fighting to put on his waistcoat. Please, no. Anywhere. Anywhere but here. Please. Please don’t let it be…
 He broke through the last door and found himself surrounded by lots of people, dressed like him, milling around, talking, gossiping, laughing, eating, all on the deck of a big boat. He looked around and sea surrounded them everywhere.
 It was. It was true. What he’d feared. His knees gave out and he couldn’t help releasing a sob. The Titanic. That was the movie he’d been watching yesterday. And that was the movie he’d been sent to.
 “Hey,” a gentle voice sounded beside him. “Lad, you alright there?”
 He turned and fell head first into a striking pair of green eyes. His chest felt tight all over again, but for different reasons.
 “Everything alright?” the gorgeous guy kept asking. “You hurt or something?”
 Jack. XiaoFeng was sure. Sure as he had been about the transmigration. Sure as he had ever been about anything. And no. Standing in front of him was not Leo DiCarpio, the star of all his wet dreams. So that meant, this was not in fact the movie, even though the boat looked alarmingly similar. XiaoFeng didn’t know how he knew just who was the owner of the eyes watching him, but he just knew.
 “Mate? You there?”
 XiaoFeng blinked, and then he finally reacted.
 “No, I’m not okay. My heart hurts.”
 Well, would you freaking look at that. XiaoFeng suddenly spoke English. And not just any English, British English.
 Jack’s beautiful eyes widened and then furrowed in worry. He got closer and XiaoFeng took the chance to observe him. The skin of his face was not perfect by any stretch; he was, after all, a poor guy that had gotten onto the boat illegally. He had scars and some acne marks, but somehow that made him look even more handsome. XiaoFeng never liked the perfect, too pretty boys. He liked the ones with imperfections and marks and signs that they had lived and had fun. Jack wasn’t blonde per se. His hair was in fact darker than that, but lighter than brown. He had seen it before in movies, in commercials, and when the people around him dyed their hair. But this natural tone? With the highlights and the darker tones mixed in? Never.
 “Your heart? Why does it hurt?”
 “It’s you. You made it hurt. You see as soon as I saw you, it tried to jump out of my chest and into your arms, but it crashed against my ribs instead, and now I’m in pain. You have to take responsibility for the damage your green eyes have caused me.”
 Really, XiaoFeng had never in his life been that bold. In China? With all the censure? And the square minds? And the military force defending those square minds? There was just no way. And he was aware that this was the very beginning of the twentieth century. There was no pride parades. No LGBTQ rights. Nothing of the sort. But, he had just died while in his sleep (he was sure of that too) and been transmigrated into the past, on board a boat that would sink who knew when. As you might imagine, XiaoFeng didn’t care one single bit if Jack was in fact gay just like him. He just saw an opportunity and took it. Because quite literally he could die (for the second time) tomorrow. And who knew if he would have the luck to be transmigrated again or if he would stay dead this time?
 Jack stared in awe for a few seconds. XiaoFeng awaited the punch, the indignation, the insults, the derisive snort. But Jack flushed the deepest shade of red. Made even more obvious on his paler than white skin. The boy stuttered, completely flustered, and XiaoFeng really did feel his heart ache this time. It ached with hope, with love, with tenderness, with care, with everything he didn’t dare dream of back in his original country.
 “Si-sir, I-I would… I would first-first have to-to-to know your na-name.”
 As soon as the words were out, Jack somehow managed to become even more red.
 “Be-because!” he hurried to exclaim, trying to explain himself. “You-you said to take re-responsi-respon…”
 “My name’s Mark.”
 The name rolled off of XiaoFeng’s tongue without the slightest doubt. As a matter of fact, XiaoFeng? XiaoFeng who? Who was that? There’s no XiaoFeng here. There’s only Mark.
 “Nice to meet you Jack.” Mark smiled prettily, tilting his head adorably, making his curls bounce.
 Jack was so busy blushing, staring into Mark’s eyes, falling in love faster than ever in his life, becoming as lost in the blue as Mark had been in his green, that it took him quite a few minutes to realize Mark knew his name.
 But he hadn’t said it yet! Did they know each other from before? They couldn’t. Jack would remember someone was pretty as Mark.
 “How do you know my name?” Jack asked cautiously.
 At this point Mark realized his mistake as well. And faced two options. Either he used his knowledge to try and save as many people, including himself and Jack, or he kept quiet and just saved himself and Jack when push came to shove.
 The decision was fairly easy.
 Both boys stared into each other’s eyes. Mark’s determined, Jack’s increasingly confused.
 “I know a lot of stuff. About you. About the people on this boat. About the future. And I need you to help me. Do you trust me?”
 Mark saw Jack wanted to say yes. But his brain got in the way and made him skeptical. So Mark started spouting facts about Jack. Facts about the people on the boat. Facts about the events they would announce on the nights and what would happen during them. And Jack finally believed in him. Mark didn’t mention anything about transmigration yet. And he didn’t think he would. The time was too old to believe in that. Instead he told Jack that he was clairvoyant, and the boy believed it without question. It was a white lie. But it hurt Mark deeply. Already he didn’t want to keep anything from the other boy. Maybe when the situation wasn’t as urgent he would try.
 And so, the duo went to find the capitain. Off to prove him that Mark did in fact know what would happen, and that they had to turn this boat around right this very second.
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Prompt:  13. You find yourself aboard the Titanic with full knowledge of what is going to happen.
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Previous Day Next Day
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phantomphangphucker · 5 years
Text
Time’s A Game That Plays Us All
ClockWork sees all the plays that can be taken, then substitutes their own. And Danny’s always been their king.
Using the tropes: Play-Along Prisoner and Take A Third Option
There’s a legend of old, from a long time ago. Something you could find if you flipped through a ghost hunters book selection. Having been written about in the first incarnation of the Hunter’s Wisdom Essentials Guide Book, still remaining largely unchanged outside of language from this original copy, in every subsequent edition. This legend so vital that the creature behind it was listed as a co-author in the book itself. If you asked any ghost hunter why, they’d say it was obvious, much of the information came from this creature. Their work, their profession, was spurred by the very same creature.
See back in the day, before ghost hunting, before any knowledge of ghosts, there had always been stories and rumours of strange glowing creatures. Some humanoid, some animalistic. They caused havoc or skittishly avoided the humans, though most wrote them off as visions or the ravings of the mad/ill. That is except for a select few, eventually anyway. The select few who knew, came to know, when a small little creature who held age in their eyes yet the form of a small buck-toothed child made their presence known to these select few. The first being Galvion Ingride Whitefoot, Adrian G. Groove -ever followed by an albino tiger-, Exterian Slav Break, and Josephine D. Fetonightingal. Of course they had all known each other, to some degree. Met on occasions, even if their respective families grew apart to the point where eventual modern relatives were unawares. But together they had written the first edition of the Hunter’s Wisdom Essentials Guide Book, after the glowing floating child -with no legs to speak of- had offered their hand and words. Had spoken of another world, filled with creatures of wonder and horror much the same as the creature themselves. Had told them of the nature of these creatures' existence, the dead yet given ‘life’ anew. How they had pointed where they needed to go to find such similar creatures in their living world. Allowed them to witness the power these creatures could wield and how to protect against it.
At first all had questioned the small, well-spoken and mild-mannered creature; and of course they contained/trapped it as best they could. Why would they tell them such things? Give them tools to fight or defend? But they learned that this one, who used their dark purple cloak to hide, instead of invisibility. How they floated around not through things. How they never fired off one of those ecto-blasts, as they said they were called. They all came to realise that this creature did not possess the abilities of the others. And not only that, but none of the other creatures seemed to know the child-like ones’ name; yet they often knew each other’s. These four also noted how every creature they encountered seemed to represent something: sleep, plants, weather, water, electricity, and so on.
Leaving them all to come to the conclusion that this blue-skinned one, with their words of guidance, represented humanity's defence against these creatures. That they were nature’s way of defending her living children and revealing, through the presence of this weak yet wise creature, who would do it best. It was also decided that the strange ticking thing in the ghost's chest represented the growth and time needed to develop and guide a new ghost hunter. Every human who saw this creature, captured it, came to these very same conclusions; and as the story goes, as soon as they did, that very creature would appear with their soft smile and crimson eyes and tell them the name of these creatures they were to fight ‘ghosts’. Then they’d be seen no more. This final appearance came to be seen as the universes seal of approval for the ghost hunter. Their graduation from a young apprentice, learning their role in the world, to ghost hunter in true; and every single one would go on to be masters of their craft, pioneers.
Of course, in the many years that followed, not every ghost hunter saw and caught this small wise ghost, but every single one that did went on to be influential. Those that didn’t, regardless of drive, never seemed to stick with the field, never excelled at creating their own weapons, never made any new discoveries. So it was something of an understood truth that this ghost knew who would make a good true ghost hunter, and simply did not waste their time with any others.
For Jack Fenton, he had seen the ghost in his early youth, had learned everything with wild abandon. Of course his family had always known of ghosts and of the legend, to say they had been ecstatic when Jack claimed to have captured the ghost, would be an understatement.
Maddie Fenton, on the other hand, met this ghost only shortly before meeting Jack. But the knowledge the small ghost gave seemed so obvious to her, so right. Meeting Jack had been easy and obvious after that. The two lovers had felt a little bad for their friend Vlad, having never seen or heard of this ghost. But they knew even those not chosen could be good ghost hunters, and who were they to reject someone’s passion? Though neither was truly surprised when he seemingly dropped out of the ecto-field all together, especially with the accident. Though Maddie’s pretty sure she saw him flipping through a Hunter’s Wisdom Essentials Guide Book and scoffing at the small ghost, muttering that clearly this little ghost was nothing but a silly myth.
And now, Jack finds himself flipping through his Fenton family edition of the Hunter’s Wisdom Essentials Guide Book, smiling fondly and reminiscing slightly over the sketch of the old wise ghost. Though frowning slightly as he traces the scar on the ghosts face. He remembers asking how that happened, after all it was known that he did not use to have it. The only answer he had ever gotten was ‘such is the marks of old beasts that watch, the foolish and power-mad who can not tolerate what they can not control’. Jack gathers it was from another ghost, one who somehow knew of and how to find the small ghost that no others seemed to.
He turns his head and smiles as his wife sits down. Maddie looking at the book and smiling herself, speaking quietly, “wonder if either of the kids will see him”.
Jack chuckles, “surely one will! At least one Fenton child always does. Heck! Both me and my brother did”.
Maddie giggles slightly and nods before frowning a little, “I do worry though Jack dear. Neither seem to have any interest. In fact, they almost seem put-off”.
“I wouldn’t give up faith yet Mads. You certainly had no interest when you were their age after all!”.
Maddie giggles and nods, silently joining her husband in flipping trough the heirlooms pages.  
ClockWork watches the interaction through one of many viewing portals, smiling ever so slightly. Turning their head to another, watching Daniel teasing and insulting Walker before flying lazily home.
Everything had worked out as it should. Everyone was where and who they needed to be. And yet there was a roadblock. A problem. Daniel’s skill at lying and hiding was a much-needed one, a true necessity. But even a fool could see the rift it caused and how it blocked the future of progress.
Ghost hunters, though needed for their purposes, had become advanced enough to pose threats. Not just to single ghosts, but every ghost, the world even. Such a level of advancement was needed of course, had resulted in Phantom. But now, the Observants were nervous, many ghosts were. Enough so that the Zone itself was being affected by all the negative emotions. That wouldn’t change if change didn’t happen. ClockWork chuckles over such phrasing, they had a plan of course, always did. Ghost hunters needed to change, their opinions needed to change. It had to come from the influential of course, not from ClockWork themselves, that wasn’t their purpose. They were a guider not a symbol of change. No, that was Phantom’s place, Daniel’s place.
Phantom couldn’t be exposed yet, not quite, but the forming rift with his parents would cause issues if it continues to grow before the day came for them to know exactly who and what Daniel was.  
Looking back to the portal with the two parents, this provided an opportunity of sorts. ClockWork knows that while they look at this scene, the book, with a slight smile the Observants instead frown. More than a little displeased with ClockWork’s past decision.
See ClockWork always has some plan or another, some idea for the future. That was part of their purpose after all. So of course they did back when humans had first come into existence in genuine, started making the world their bitch so to speak. All the other ghosts at the time, ClockWork’s fellow Ancients, firmly refused the idea that these weak fleshy creatures would ever pose any kind of threat to them. They existed in two different dimensions, sure there were occasionally natural portals between the two planes but all the other mortal creatures never paid any mind to any ghosts causing mischief or hanging about; why would these ‘humans’ be any different.
ClockWork knew better, saw better; so they acted better. Humans would know of ghosts, of course they would, there was no possible future where they would not. And humans were egotistical creatures, things that would steamroll over all other species they could. They also would grow to have a never-ending love for knowledge, that was something ClockWork could appreciate; feel fond of.
So while the other ghosts dismissed these humans ClockWork made plans, made themselves known to the humans. The other ghosts that even knew of ClockWork were uneasy with this but even back then no one questioned ClockWork, well...besides those foolish Observants; who thankfully did not yet exist.
ClockWork appeared to them with careful forethought, let the human capture them, and the knowledge that there really was only two options. Neither of which ClockWork paid any mind. Though fine, technically humans could be blocked out from knowing about ghosts, eliminate any who truly became knowledgable; ClockWork could certainly do that, but that would be far less interesting.
So either humans would know and live in fear, or they would know and come to make it impossible for new earth ghosts to be formed. Both options would make halfas impossible, coexistence impossible. So ClockWork hardly considered them actual options.
Instead letting humans know ghosts, but with the added effect of appealing to their pride. The human belief that they where the top species. That they could crush anything. Simply by showing them weaker ghosts, by altering natural ghost portals, by appearing to them as a guiding hand and without their staff visible, by allowing themselves to be seen as ‘trapped’. And so ClockWork became the stuff of legends to them, and an utter unknown to ghosts; excluding those eyeballs of course.
And why did they exist? The Observants? Well, because their fellow Ancients felt there needed to be overseers, never knowing they already had one in ClockWork. Leaving them with more decisions to make, plans to enact. Of course these knew ghosts would know of ClockWork, be insulted and fearful of the master of time’s power. All beings fear the powerful that they can not control. So these new ghosts would try to control ClockWork, try to force their hand, try to remove or alter them. The Observants, like all creatures, would have motives of their own; would lack objectivity. So either ClockWork was to find a way to hide from them or accept their future actions towards them. Or ClockWork could interfere, alter them to ClockWork’s own design. Bar them from being able to act, from being able to harm. They would be watchers and watchers only. The ghosts would get what they want, and ClockWork would do as ClockWork pleases. Sure ClockWork could just stop them from successfully creating the Observants at all, but where’s the fun in that? Plus, annoying them would become a beloved past time.
So ClockWork lets the other ghosts see these Observants as all powerful overseers; as judge, jury and executioner. Let the Observants fool themselves too. Sure they had enough power to lock up any ghosts that ClockWork, unknowingly to them, let them lock up. But ClockWork would stand as the only executioner, and they knew that.
This decision also helped ClockWork remain an unknown to other ghosts, the Observants didn’t want their lack of power, lack of ability to act, known; and ClockWork was the proof of that. But since ClockWork exists in every different possible future there was, the Observants could never truly control who knew and who didn’t. Only ClockWork could, simply manipulate toward the future they wanted in such a way that the Observants couldn’t so much as object beyond complaining pointlessly.
Smirking at the viewing portal as the two parents head to the lab, it was showtime. ClockWork never appeared to ghost hunters after they finished their apprenticeship, humans need to bloom and blossom of their own accord; else you hurt their egos. But rules were there to be broken and rules couldn’t hold ClockWork. In short, they were a dirty little cheater.  
Jack’s leaning over a microscope while Maddie jerks up and gapes, absentmindedly pushing the button to activate the ghost containment cell right where the familiar purple-cloaked ghost floated. She knew shapeshifting ghosts existed and both her and Jack’s time with him was long past. This couldn’t possibly be? Could it? She speaks softly while the ghost just floats there with a soft smirk, “Jack dear, I think you should look at this”.
Jack looks up, a bit caught off guard by his wife’s cautious but awed tone. He promptly drops the slide he was holding, it shattering as it hits the ground, “you? but it can’t be. Why?”.
ClockWork grins, and gives their typical half-truths, “oh I’m not here to play guide for you. I’ve merely made use of the weakened veil here”, gesturing to the Fenton portal, “that is why you find me here”.
Maddie tilts her head, this was clearly not a fake, “we always just thought you stayed in the mortal world somehow or travelled through natural portals”.
“Not all means bare the same outcomes”, ClockWork glances at the stairs, “and maybe you ought research through more wandering means. You might find something interesting”.
Maddie squints slightly, “and what are you going to do. You never need to go through such indirect means to get to new hunters”.
ClockWork smiles, of course this confrontation was completely avoidable but they had a test to give, “you’ll understand in time. There are plenty of paths one could take. Most often the path I point along is walked with me alone. But every so often that road must open to accommodate fellow travellers”.
Maddie and Jack exchange a look before Jack gets up, asking with barely contained excitement, “are you saying we get to help who your guiding! Oh this is so awesome Mads!”.
ClockWork smiles as the two head up the stairs, “we’ll see how the road forks. They’ll find me, no worries about the shield”. Maddie squints back at them, clearly wondering how whoever was going to find them but deciding that they hardly could do harm in the shield and were trustable enough to leave alone. Unaware they could simply teleport out.
Ten minutes later Danny comes home and phases through the ceiling invisibly to empty his thermos, only to pause and gape slightly before chuckling and shaking his head at spotting ClockWork inside the ghost containment cell. Emptying the thermos as he speaks, “hey CW, um why? Not that I’m questioning your ways, but I’m questioning your ways”.
ClockWork floats towards him, separated only by the shield while Danny transforms back human. ClockWork speaking with a slight smile, “you’re mortal guardians are as paranoid as expected to the appearance of ghosts, even those they think fondly of”.
Danny blinks and jerks slightly, “wait, my parents know you? ‘Think fondly’ of you?”, Danny’s not surprised his folks would trap some ghost in the containment cell, that was literally the point. And it’s not like ClockWork actually needed help getting out.
ClockWork gives a slow nod, “but of course. Many ghost hunters do”.
“Why???”.
“The same reason I involve myself in anyone’s existence, to guide them on their path”.
Danny shakes his head, this was a little absurd, “so you’ve been responsible for people becoming hunters? Why would you do that? Wouldn’t it be better for the people that want to obliterate and tear apart molecule by molecule, every ghost, not to know things?”.
ClockWork holds up a hand and gestures around, “dealing with such things, with antagonism, strengthens us and our defences. Of course, only to so many degrees. With humans, we’ve always had two options, bar the mortals from knowing of ghosts or have them know but fear our power. I merely ensured they’d instead believed they could face us in might”.
Danny snorts and rolls his eyes a little, “so you let them believe a lie?”, shrugging, “and fine, if anyone knows that fighting and experiencing all the ways people can come up to hurt you, can make you stronger; then it’s me”.
ClockWork sticks up a finger, “indeed you do, and I let you believe your family would die; lies have their benefits”.
Danny glares slightly, “that was low”.
ClockWork completely dismisses his displeasure, “good truths are always low blows”, smiling slightly, “besides, how better to control who gets to be a hunter and harvest a collection of apprentices”.
Danny blinks at that, “wait, what?”.
ClockWork smirks, Danny could be hard to really surprise or confuse nowadays, “how do you think any of them know anything about ghosts? I’m a wise fellow”, ClockWork gestures to the ghost shield.
Danny blinks at them, “oh my Ancients. Do you just let hunters capture you to teach them random things?”, sure Danny had done the dumbshit and let his folks capture him but they were his parents, family, it was different.
ClockWork just responds like this was perfectly reasonable and expected. “precisely”.
Danny facepalms, speaking with slight humour though, “my guardian is an idiot”.
ClockWork waves him off, “oh hardly, I always know the outcomes. Plus it’s high time your family knows your guardian”, Danny instantly looks rather panicked and disbelieving, so ClockWork continues, “they won’t be bothered, in fact, they’ll find it quite the good sign. A sign you’ll be a ‘helpful’ spector, seeing as they believe you’ll be a ghost”.
Now Danny’s gaping again, “excuse?”.
“Daniel, you set off their detectors and literally can’t be de-ecto-contaminated. Of course, they think you’re going to become a ghost”.
Danny throws his hands out to the side and walks in a little circle, “well that’s news to me”.
“They don’t mention it because they don’t want to scare you”, floating to follow Danny as he walks around the room a little and holding up a finger, “but now you can get them to open up through revealing you at least know the same, without giving away that you know because you already are”, smirking, “thanks to a helpful guardian”.
Danny blinks, realising this’ll pretty much get him off the hook for tons of weird ghostly shit, “you sneaky bastard”. ClockWork gives a devilish grin just before Maddie and Jack come down the stairs.
Jack beams, thinking back on the earlier words of the tiny ghost, “Danny-boy! So you’ve seen the little guy!”, walking up and patting Danny on the shoulder, who just looks confused and a bit freaked out. While Jack keeps talking, hopefully explaining this particular ghost will make his rather ghost fearing son less seemingly freaked, “this one’s the spirit of hunters! Our profession! Always appears before and guides those destined to be hunters! This is great!”, wiping a tear from his eye, “my boy’s gonna be a fine hunter”.
Danny has to hold back a laugh at calling ClockWork ‘the spirit of hunters’ while also deciding to not jump the gun on what his parents actually know about ClockWork, “er and what do you call them?”, Danny deadpanning, “if you say ‘Hunter’ I will be deeply disappointed”.
Maddie shakes her head with a smile, “don't be silly sweetie, this is an important day in your destiny of being a ghost hunter”, smiling at the tiny spirit, “we call him Herne”. Jack butts in, “which is why the name means mythical hunter!”, smiling some, “even if he’s a tiny thing with no abilities to actually hurt anyone with”.
Danny looks at ClockWork, firmly realising humans know goddamn nothing about them. Maybe they weren’t too much of an idiot. Flicking his eyes back to his parents, “no abilities?”.
Jack nods, surely this ghost being weaker will ease his son up some, “being able to form and float is really all he can do”, smiling at the little ghost, “not that that matters, he’s a wise little guy”.
ClockWork chuckles, “yes, foresight and a keen mind makes up for much. Doesn’t it”, holding up a hand, “but I am here for a different reason of sorts”.
Danny’s instantly nervous as his parents look ClockWork with confusion and slight caution.
Jack and Maddie exchange a glance, surely this explained the strange way the little ghost had appeared. Why they caught the ghost and not Danny. Maddie asking, “his paths a little different, isn’t it?”. While Jack frowns slightly, “is he not going to be a hunter?”.
ClockWork smiles softly, “to you I am but a giver of wisdom and guidance, a mentor of sorts and a hand to point in the right direction”, turning to Danny and smiling, while Danny just looks nervous as ClockWork continues, “but to him I am guardian. A mentor in truth and spiritual parent of sorts, for a young little ghost”. Danny does his damnedest to not outwardly cringe over being point-blank called a ghost by a ghost, in front of his parents.
Jack and Maddie go a little wide-eyed before smiling again, Jack beaming at ClockWork, “that’s great! So he’ll be like you then!?! A guiding spirit, rather than like all those malicious ghosts!”, Jack taps his chin, “though that still doesn’t explain why we needed to be seeing you again”.
While Maddie looks more softly at Danny and holds her hands to her chest then, picking up that he seemed a bit nervous but not exactly surprised, “and you’re alright knowing this? That you’ll be a ghost some day? You don’t seem all that surprised”.
Danny rubs his neck, “heh, well I mean, half your stuff already calls me one and all that”. ClockWork thankfully takes mercy on him and adds in, “and after all, we have met before”.
Maddie and Jack both blink at Danny, Jack instantly asking, “well why didn’t you say so Danny-boy?!?”. Though Maddie clues in that Danny not telling them about this was exactly why Herne showed up to them. He decided that they needed to know about this, likely for Danny’s future development. Which means that Danny likely wouldn’t have told them on his own.
Danny glances at ClockWork and gives them the stink-eye, officially not very thankful. Before looking back to his parents, “well, you’ve never actually talked nice about any ghost. And I didn’t want to get into an argument about them”, rubbing his neck a bit and knowing his folks will be a little more than not happy about this in one regard anyway, “they saved my life after all, so it would bug me someone talking bad about them”.
Both of them instantly look to ClockWork, practically beaming at the ghost though fretting over their son even needing his life saved. Maddie nodding at them, “thank you. If we weren’t already on good terms, we would be now”.
Jack throwing an arm around Danny and hugging him a bit protectively, “but what could have put his life in danger? Especially in a way for you to be saving him?”.
Maddie nods and looks a little sheepish, “you’re not exactly a powerful one”.
Danny sends ClockWork a bit of a pleading look because his folks calling basically the strongest ghost ever 'weak', was too absurd and funny for him to not eventually break down laughing over.
ClockWork eyes the ghost shield they’re ‘trapped’ behind, wondering which path the two will take. Trust them and let the shield down or hold on to their ghost bigotry and keep it up. Be the first to really be around them without them being captured in some device or shield. Smirking slightly as Jack, noticing ClockWork’s eyeballing of the shield, promptly deactivates it. ClockWork floats over to pat Danny’s head before turning to the two parents, ClockWork speaking while Danny’s a bit in shock from his parents actually smiling over a ghost touching him, “indeed, there are some ghosts who fear other ghosts with influence. Seek to get rid of them before they can gain said influence”.
Danny knows damn well ‘influence’ is just a subtle way to say ‘powerful’. And he’s also feeling a slightly renewed distaste for the Observants.
Maddie scoffs, “of course those spooks would dislike any ghost,”, glancing at Danny, “or ghosts, that help humans”.
Jack taps his chin, looking to ClockWork, “I imagine these ghosts can’t destroy ones like you?”, looking at Maddie before looking back to ClockWork, “we always thought you avoided being harmed or bothered by other ghosts by simply being unknown to them”.
ClockWork chuckles, “most don’t know of me. But there are other reasons”, looking to Danny, “and they’re welcome to really know me, Daniel. It would be rather mean to have your mortal family not know your ghostly one”.
Danny tilts his head back, “oh thank Ancients”, though he knows damn well ClockWork isn’t fine with them knowing because it would be ‘mean’ otherwise.
ClockWork smirks, “no need to thank me”, Danny makes a face at them for that before chuckling.
Jack smiles, “well I’m glad you have similar humour!”, looking at the little spirit and tilting his head some, “are you saying we don’t know everything about you? That we’re missing a lot?”.
Maddie smiles sweetly at Jack, “Jack dear, he’s never so much as told us if he has a real name. It is expected”.
Danny shakes his head, “I'm kind of amazed you trust them at all then”.
Maddie ruffles Danny’s hair, “well, he is why we are hunters really and he’s harmless”.
Danny chuckles and eyes ClockWork, who nods, “you can tell them much of what you know of me”, smirking mischievously, “I encourage it in fact”.
Danny squints at them and chuckles, “you just want to enjoy causing confusion and startling them”.
ClockWork nods with a slight smile, speaking almost cruelly, “and piss off the Observants, of course”.
Danny blinks and turns fully to them, “you really did just name drop them huh?”, turning back to his parents and rubbing his neck, “Observants, those are the ghosts that tried to ‘get rid of me’”.
Jack scowls, “well we hate them then”.
ClockWork nods, “good, now you’ll never help them”. ClockWork doesn’t need their viewing portals to see the Observants shrieking in annoyance and trashing five different plots to restrict multiple different ghosts.
Danny squints at them, “do you always have to have five different reasons for doing things?”, shaking his head and looking back to his parents and gesturing his arms out to ClockWork, “this is weird but, um, this is ClockWork and they are not even kind of close to the definition of weak or harmless”.
Maddie tilts her head at ClockWork then Danny, “but we’ve scanned him, them, nothing but floating really”. While Jack beams and tries out the name ‘ClockWork’ a few times before asking, “does your name have any meaning?!? Ghost’s names often do”.
Danny squints at ClockWork, Danny knows how he himself tricked their scanners but ClockWork was a full ghost, “how did you even pull that off?”, Danny squints more and really looks ClockWork over before facepalming, “your staff?”. ClockWork’s power was focused in their staff after all.
ClockWork grins and summons their staff, making Maddie blink and get slightly closer to look the staff over quickly; though never actually touching it, “oh! You do actually have some kind of weapon”.
While ClockWork nods at Maddie, “yes and no, this is much more a conduit than a weapon. I do have a scythe as well though”, Danny can’t help but chuckle at that a little; full well knowing that weapon was used exclusively for reaping ghosts that needed to be removed, which was a bit hilarious. While ClockWork promptly startles both of the parents by suddenly changing into their adult form, speaking while they gape at the ghost they only ever knew as a small child-like ghost, “as for my name, it indeed holds plenty meaning. It is, after all, my job and purpose to ensure that the hands on the universe's clock go round and round, until oblivion can no longer be chased off”.
Danny chuckles and shakes his head at ClockWork, who changes to the form of an old man. Danny speaking to his parents, “they mean time control, guys. The very fabric of time is basically theirs to bend and alter”, rolling his hand, “add in being able to see all of the past, present, and every future possible”, looking at ClockWork, “they’re arguably one of the most powerful ghosts there is, not to mention oldest”.  
The two adults raise their eyebrows a bit at ClockWork who nods ever so slightly, “I’ve been around since the beginning, guiding the universe along on its most lengthy path. Watching everything grow along exactly as its supposed to be. Of course that also means I plan when each being eventually stops and falls, guide them to when it is best they be destroyed”.  
Maddie mutters a bit startled and less than pleased, “so you’re more neutral than good, less altruistic and more manipulative”.
Danny instantly shakes his head, “no, they’re just more altruistic on a universal scale, the bigger picture kind of thing. A true neutral, completely objective, I guess”.
ClockWork nods and speaks while patting Danny’s head, “precisely”, sending the parents a small smile, “I have no interests towards ghosts, nor humans, nor earth; but rather existence and time itself”, chuckling a little and side-eyeing Danny slightly, “and I must say, I’ve certainly pushed and pulled many a thing to ensure Daniel exists precisely as he does and will”.
Jack blinks at Danny and pats him on the shoulder, “is he really going to be that important?”, chuckling at Danny, “no pressure son”.
Danny barely stops himself for muttering ‘too late’ and instead just nods slightly. While Maddie’s releasing that this ghost can’t truly be trusted, humans were not where their priorities lay. But that they absolutely did have her son's survival? benefit? well-being? happiness? -well, maybe not that last one. Something tells her that ClockWork would harm or traumatise anyone for the sake of the universe- at their metaphorical heart.
ClockWork smirks, “that is for time to know and the world to see. But if you must know, him simply existing as he does has saved the world more than once”. Danny has to resist cringing at that, seeing as they were pretty effectively leaving out him causing it once.
Jack beams at that, his boy was already doing good! Somehow. Promptly hugging Danny, “good for you Danny-boy! Though I wonder how you managed that?”.
Everyone looks to ClockWork then, full well knowing they know exactly how. They simply smirk, “now that would be telling, wouldn’t it. The simplest of things can change everything, even picking up a rock verses not, could alter everything. Even how much someone knows or doesn’t, can”.
Danny chuckles a little fondly, which his parents definitely pick up on, while Danny speaks, “you’re always an enigma huh”.
Jack and Maddie smile a little fondly, though feeling like outsiders a bit as the two seem to one-up each other in sounding confusing. They both knew their boy was a bit odd, an enigma, so clearly they were two of a kind. That makes it clear Danny’s future lied with this ghost, rather than their profession; whatever that actually meant. Maddie decides to push that, he’s their boy, they should know what his job/future was/would be. Looking at ClockWork, “you’ve still got a way with words, but what are you even guiding Danny with?”.
ClockWork gives both the honest answer and the most confusing one, “everything and nothing. The same as that which you do, except with less restraints and a finger in every pie”, smiling at Danny, “a Guardian has the role of parent when dealing with ghosts”.
Jack’s a bit confused but that’s pretty come-by, “but ghosts don’t need to be taught how to ghost?”.
Maddie shakes her head slightly and tilts her head, “But what is he going to be doing?”.
ClockWork pats Danny’s head, they were not wrong, even with a halfa. Though no ghost just knew how the Zone’s politics worked. But the existence of many levels of law and government within the Zone was not for them to know, not yet. “But of course, ghosts know themselves well, but not so much other ghosts. After all, have you met any who know of me? And”, holding up a finger and smirking at Maddie, “everything. He’ll find there’s little he won’t do”.
Maddie blinks and mutters, “are you trying to say he’s going to be all powerful or control ghosts”.
Danny makes a damn point not to react, considering the whole High Ghost Prince thing, meaning his mom was absolutely right. Though he then gapes at ClockWork and throws his hands out to the side as they promptly teleport away with a twirl of their staff and a wink. Danny groans at the thin air where they used to be, “seriously time-pants?”.
Jack and Maddie both can’t help but laugh while Danny grumbles more while looking at them, “they always make their timing dramatic”.
Jack nods a little, “I did nearly face-plant into them when they showed up for me”. Maddie giggles a little but nods, “they startled me enough that I set my original college application on fire”.
Danny snorts, “tossed through a time portal and slammed my face into a giant bell, five times”. Jack chuckles, “that’s way more silly”.
Maddie nods but looks Danny over, “do you know what that wink meant?”.
“Probably five different things. One part is definitely just to cause mischief and drama. Could be referring to a possible future or just wants to let someone think that’s the case”, is Danny lying a little? Yeah. Is he just going to out the whole prince/future king thing? Ancients no.
Maddie shakes her head and mutters, “now I'm questioning everything to do with them“.
Danny snorts and goes to walk upstairs, “either question everything or accept everything. Both at the same time? I go with that”.
Jack mutters as Danny leaves fully, “I don’t think you can do that really”.
ClockWork watches through a viewing portal, the questions were in place and, watching with a slight smirk as pissed off Observants inadvertently knock a very particular book from the future through a strategically placed portal and lands on the Fenton lab floor, said questions would be answered.
While Jack spots the glowing book and gets a little excited, the two instantly start flipping through to find it’s a storybook, a book telling the tale of a legend.
A king of youth in a castle of dark brick, lording over a word of mythical creatures of the dead persuasion. Spoken of as kind and just, yet powerful and resolute. A black and white dragon, with eyes that see every shade. Who proved his strength through countless battles, and a battered body that moved with pride. Who proved his mind through quick-witted wordplay, and hiding amongst the enemy.
But what really caught the parents’ eyes were the black and gray pictures, the sketches. Largely of landscapes, the castle of course and the flora filled land surrounding it. But also some of a blazing crown and extravagant cape, a sword of ice carved with flowers and skulls. Though they trace their fingers over the silhouette drawing of this king, swinging the sword at another figure with a near-identical physique but flaming hair and snake tongue. It’s titled ‘First Trial’. The king could easily be an older Danny, but they couldn’t be certain.
But what really makes them pause and share a glance is a landscape piece, where a strange clocktower could be seen in the background. Surrounded by floating gears, much the same as the one ClockWork wore for a clasp.
Maddie squints down at the image and runs off looking for a microscope, coming back and hovering it over one of the windows in the clocktower to see ClockWork -in child form- winking right at her with a circular something showing the image of her and Jack leaning over this very book. Maddie jerking back and whispering, “Zone that cheeky bastard”, before flipping to the last page. Both parents blinking down at a familiar-sounding quote signed with a fanciful yet nearly illegible ‘CW’.
“Existence is a story we weave, but a story unread is a story yet to be solidified. What we know can change everything, and once knowledge is written and known, it becomes something to last forevermore”.
Jack scratches his head and mutters, “did we just ensure Danny would become a king or something, or a paradox would happen?”.
Maddie knits her fingers together and speaks into her hands, “I think we did”.
Neither parent’s sure whether they should scream and be pissed or be proud.
ClockWork simply smiles while two Observants float in demanding, “ClockWork, what did you do”.
“My job”.
“It’s your job to watch time, not play favourites. He will destroy us”.
ClockWork turns and levels them with an unreadable gaze, “you mean further restrict and take your power? Precisely. Just because I am not a player on the field doesn’t mean I’m not in control. Time is the field board, and I tilt as I please. You’re simply referees, you are nothing without the players and you’ve been betting on the wrong ones. All in the name of your search for dominance. For those you could control or who lacked the strength to ever stand against you. But in the end”, ClockWork floats to be closer to them almost menacingly, “this game is played in a grandiose casino, and the house always wins in time”.
End.
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heizerux · 5 years
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Battle of the Miraculous (Love Eater and Miracle Queen) Analysis (Few Translations included)
“Some people may have their problems, but at the end everything will be okay.”
—Marinette Dupain-Cheng (Miracle Queen Monologue)
(Disclaimer: Budgets and animation production play a huge part in how episodes are made and released . . . but this time it was straight up the network’s choice and a bad one :| Also I’m fully aware Chat Blanc and Felix may answer a few extra things, but for now I’ll just talk about what I’ve seen.)
I’ll be going over the finale in the Topics: 
Hesitations
Relationships
Beginning of the End
The Future? (Season 4 Talk)
I rewatched the episode with subs I could fully read and understand so I’m ready to talk about it now. Let's go. . .
FYI: I’m gonna be mainly dissecting Miracle Queen because A LOT happened here that I HAVE TO let out.
Hesitations
In Heart Hunter/ Love Eater we got a good consensus of how every character is doing. To summarize, we know Luka has deeply fallen for Marinette and constantly thinks about the song that is her. Kagami is much closer to Adrien and is open about her feelings to him. Luka and Kagami are also now officially good friends with their supposed love rival. Really everyone is getting along PERFECTLY. . . . But then Kagami and Adrien get much closer and all Marinette can do is just let the one she loves go. 
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In Miracle Queen, Marinette cries to Luka and admits in her monologue that nothing is going and if anything things are painful. . . but that it’s nice to have someone that’s there for her when she need it. . .  this someone being Luka. Before the bees attack, Marinette makes a move to move on by wanting to hear his finalized song, but Luka questions an important question:
“You’re still thinking about Adrien?”
Meanwhile, Adrien breaks away from the kiss with an “Oh! Uh, it’s my first time, I’m not ready!” excuse even though it’s clear he’s unsure about advancing things with Kagami. But then her version of the important question is:
“But when will you be ready, Adrien? . .  Your hesitation hurts.”
*queue the bees* So as of this point, Adrien and Marinette have finally faced their actual obstacle in terms of romance: Their HESITATIONS.
This entire season, we’ve had instances in which Adrienette has had the thought of wanting to be something more (either through a crush or Plagg’s perseuations), but there was always the thought of “But there’s Luka/Kagami. . .” Ikari Gozen shed this for Marinette, Stormy Weather 2.0 shed this for Adrien. . .
Anyways Chloe calls forward people who have held a miraculous and exposes them (both in identity and diss lol) btw she did say Luka looked “kinda cute”
Ladybug and Chat Noir find each other confused as to how things went south so fast and Chat just asks “What did Fu tell you?”, to which Ladybug basically answers “Nothing” and has break down admitting she accidentally lead Hawkmoth to Fu.
Relationships
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This moment right here. . . it's IMPORTANT. 
Chat sees Ladybug vulnerable and consoles her letting her know to focus on saving Fu and not to worry more on the rest mistakes. Ladybug thanks him and the two hug. . . but like ACTUALLY hug. 
I’m not talking someone hugging the other in attempt to save the other from harm, but an actual genuine friendly hug. Chat Noir isn’t being flirty or making advances, and Ladybug isn't annoyed or pushing Chat away. Their relationship as heroes is no longer just partners. . . but officially CLOSE FRIENDS.
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Moving on, they kick ass, get the likely to be former wielders’ miraculous back and face off with Chloe. To summarize, she tells Ladybug that she’s the real enemy because she doesn’t trust her and goes on to equip all the miraculous. She tries to use them all but all the kwamis basically told her to go fuck herself in the form of “You don’t even know our commands.” 
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Oh, but what’s this? ANOTHER advancement in the Ladynoir relationship. Ladybug turns to Chat all vulnerable once more, and he picks her back up. This is the first time in a WHILE (since Origins) that Ladybug had confided in Chat with her vulnerability and fears of failure TWICE in ONE day. Don’t forget about this for next season.
The Beginning of the End
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After telling Ladybug that she now has all the keys and knowledge about the miraculous, Fu then decides its time. No not the grim kind of time, but the time to finally pass on the torch to Ladybug. He officially denounces his role as guardian, which renders all inactive miraculous useless. (I’m actually not certain but it IS what I noticed considering the active miraculous were still working but the inactive ones became empty jewelry shells as the kwamis got transferred into a brand new box for Ladybug. I’m sure S4 will have the answers here.) Hawkmoth is literally disappointed and leaves with a weaker Mayura.
Chloe angrily tells Ladybug she just wants to be Queen Bee and be the REAL MAIN HERO, to which Ladybug simply answers “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that, Chloe.” Chloe then throws a tantrum saying “FINE! I am not your fan anymore. I will go live with my mom because you don’t even deserve to breath the same air as ME.” and runs away.
Oh yeah, Chat lost Hawkmoth and Mayura :D. . . . *high five*
ANYWAYS, Ladybug and Chat Noir go to vibe check on Fu while Gabriel vibe checks Nathalie. One is alive and well and the other is alive and. . . yeah. 
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KEEP IN MIND, NATHALIE NOW HAS ACQUIRED THE INFO SHE NEEDED FROM FU’S BELONGINGS TO REPAIR THE PEACOCK MIRACULOUS. DO NOT FORGET THIS FOR NEXT SEASON.
Back to Fu, he wakes up but. . . ya GUESSED IT (or didn't)  . . . lost his memory along with his duties as guardian and this marks the END of an era. . .
ML LORE: THE GUARDIAN RULE IS THAT YOU ERASE YOUR MEMORIES OF KNOWING ABOUT THE TRUE POWER OF THE MIRACULOUS ONCE YOU DENOUNCE YOUR ROLE IN ORDER TO PROTECT THE IDENTITY OF THE current? WIELDERS. EVEN THE USE “MIRACULOUS LADYBUG” DOES NOT UNDO THIS.
DEFINITELY DO NOT FORGET THIS MOVING FORWARD IN THE SERIES (but mainly if you really like lore or just want to use this as a fic tool :3)
Techincally, someone did die this episode, but it was the person we all once knew as Master Fu. Now it is just Wang Fu. He returns Ladybug’s “lost key” thinking she dropped it? and then marks the a new beginning. 
Chloe returns to expect her mom to be getting ready to leave, but finds her parents finally happy and in love. . . I’m actually really happy this happened. Chloe needs a loving home and if this helps her in anyways, ABOUT TIME. 
“As you start to get older, you start to understand that life doesn’t always give you what you thought it would. I wanted to tell you this in person, Marinette, but if you are reading this it is because I’ve already lost all my memories. Do not be afraid, you haven’t lost all of me completely. Like I told you in the beginning of the letter, losses are a part of life, but this isn’t important. The only thing that’s important is if you’ve won (?) or not. That is the key to be able to accept changes as they come on your own. To be able to accept everything as a whole even when you feel life hasn’t given you enough. The real gift, is life itself.” —Fu
no I’m not crying, you are
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After retrieving Master Fu’s leftover gifts for Marinette, she takes him to see Marianne to their new home (assuming), to whom Wang Fu has met for the first time but is already fully in love with. Marinette gives them a final parting gift, to where his last words to her are:
“Thank you, young lady. I’ll never forget you.”
okay, okay, maybe a TINY tear has left my eye. . .
Now to our final scene of the season. Adrien and Marinette are closer friends and nothing is distant between the two, They’re even so comfortable small talk is like second nature to them . . . they’ve also both finally faced their own hesitations and decided to give the person in front of them a shot for and for all: Luka and Kagami.
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“The real gift, is life itself.”
okay okay I’m SOBBING aghhhHHHHHHHH--
Oh and Gabriel seems to have repaired the peacock miraculous 👀
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The Future (?)
Okay, so THAT’S how Season 3 ended. It feels bittersweet, I cried about it when I got home and watched it with real subtitles, but now lets talk about what we can expect to come in Season 4. It’s all guess and theories but I guess here’s mine:
Marinette now fully changed and matured with her new role as guardian, will probably be a lot more calmer with her approaches. The relationships will likely be that Lukanette and Adrigami will try to flourish further as both Adrien and Marinette decided to stop hesitating and going for what’s in front of them. . . but so will Ladynoir. 
I’m, for the time being, jumping ship on the theory that Ladybug will fall more in love with Chat, and Chat still being loyal to his lady will equally return the feelings as this happens further. . . but of course their civilian relationships will interfere. . . and idk about you guys but that department looks like it’s going to be interesting. 
I may add more later on, but I just needed to get all this out in one post for the finale. I’ll still watch Felix and Chat Blanc cause I’m in denial that yes, this was basically it already . . . But the wounds are still fresh in my soul for this show and it still hurts. . . 
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So yeah . . . Lila Rossi who?
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Don’t know her. . . 
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and neither did Hawkmoth in that finale 👀 *sips tea*
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