#somebody pointed that he had the same pose as the statue and I can’t think about anything else

[kadtherine]

What do you see? Perseus. That's me.

bonus (minibeth's reaction):

[restapesta]

gossip never ends

Mickey Milkovich simply just showed up one day at the Old Army, tattoos on his knuckles and a scowl on his face. Lola couldn't help but be intrigued -- nobody lasts here long enough to pique her interest, but there was something special about this guy. The gossip spreads like wildfire, but Mickey's something else altogether -- it's just a matter of time before Lola and her friends figured out why.

OR: How Mickey's coworkers found out about who Mickey really was back in season 10 -- this is more of an outlook on Mickey and his feelings throughout season 10 and how it reflected on his job and altogether his demeanor.

This is based on a prompt by @whatwouldmickeydo which was also even more explored by one of my favorite Gallavich accounts on Tumblr @ianandmickeygallavich -- so, I simply just worked through what they had already created. I hope they don't mind I used their prompt and this is dedicated to both of them! Enjoy!

words: 5.3k

The gossip began almost the exact moment Mickey was introduced to the three workers by the manager.

The Old Army staff was not a stranger to new workers coming and going, some people sticking around longer, working for a couple of months without stop, maybe even sticking around for a full-time position; some just passing through while on trial-basis, failing to meet the manager's demands and simply moving on to find better or more fitting employment -- but the sight of Mickey Milkovich was definitely not something, Lola thought, anybody, not just the curious employees, was used to.

Lola fell into the group of people who had been working at the store for ages now, starting years ago and still sticking around now, subsequently being present for all the biggest changes made to and within the popular store. She saw the interior change, the managers shift, the employees getting hired and fired -- she saw it all. It couldn't be said for many people. Honestly, only three members of the Old Army staff had actually been working full-time here, while everybody else was just a passing face.

She was so used to seeing new faces that it simply did not phase her anymore -- Lola had her own stable position in the store; she had her colleagues which she got along with, and she never paid much attention to the newbies once they came into the store. She knew it was almost always just for a short while, basically until they made a mistake while working and got politely declined for the position, so she usually just remained civil, not engaging in much mingling or bonding -- it wouldn't last anyway.

The staff change happened way too often, especially with security. The store management had no idea how to pick the right person for the job -- they either always chose the gangly, skinny types; the ones who couldn't defend others or themselves from a burglar if their life depended on it, or they chose the fatties who had a donut too many during their break and couldn't chase ten feet after the culprit.

Still, this guy -- this new, weirdly interesting guy -- seemed promising.

Lola had no idea where they managed to find him -- he was kinda hot, and definitely in really good shape with thighs and calves that could probably kill if they wanted to. He seemed crude and unapproachable, and the brooding, mysterious attitude definitely didn't quench anybody's curiosity as to where the hell he came from and how the hell they managed to find him of all the people in the world. A scowl was constantly etched on the newcomer's face -- not just when he was being introduced to the staff by the manager, as Lola thought would be the case -- but literally at every single given moment of the workday.

There were only rare moments Lola and the others saw him smile -- usually every single one of those moments being when he was texting someone during his break, or when he was coming back from having lunch with someone at the food court. Not that anyone would dare ask who, although they definitely speculated.

Mickey was the type of guy Lola was interested in making friends with. She approached him once during their shared shift -- usually, she wouldn't even bother, seeing how these guards come and go, but this one really piqued her interest -- trying to figure out who he was, where he came from, what he was doing here. Was he single? She needed to know for her lady friend considering how he was most definitely a sight for sore eyes.

It came as somewhat a surprise when he gave off clipped answers to her questions, most of them not even answering.

"Did you always work security?" She'd ask with a bright smile.

"You could say that."

Silence.

"How long are you planning on staying with us?" Trial-basis or undefined employment? Lola wondered silently.

"Until Larry finds me a better job."

Silence.

"Who?"

Silence. And then a quick, "Never mind."

Lola had officially given up on her efforts to befriend and find out more about the man once Mickey gave her a sharp, pointed stare after she pointed out he didn't have a ring on his finger, hoping he would reveal his relationship status to her.

She most certainly wasn't that lucky, and she almost shat her pants at the murderous expression on his face. She didn't ask again.

The others tried to pry information out of Mickey too, but they certainly lacked the subtlety Lola had. She honestly couldn't say she was the most discreet person in the world, but she was in the Old Army, considering how she found herself working with the two most non-discreet people in the world. Lola was upfront too -- let's not get that wrong.

But at least she didn't outright ask him if he was in a gang like Jeremy did.

"I wanted to know if the tattoos were gang symbols! They freaked me out!" The skinny twenty-year-old replied when the other workers gaped at him with wide eyes.

Jenna shook her head. "Dude, you can't just ask a guy if he was in a gang."

He wouldn't reveal his age, let alone his gang status if he had one, Lola scolded Jeremy mentally. The guy was as open as a seashell -- you could try and pry it open to see if it had a pearl inside, but you'll most likely fail and, to be honest, probably get pinched in the process, if not careful. It was perhaps best not to even try or, if you did, to proceed with extreme caution. A bunch of seashells didn't even have pearls in them anyway, so it'd all be useless in the end.

It only took a week for the staff to find out how Mickey managed to find himself here at Old Army out of all the possible places in the world. It was a shock, to say the least.

One morning, the revelation came when Larry Seaver showed up to the store, dressed in a nice suit and tie, wearing his casual, perky smile. He asked for the manager and had greeted Mickey immediately once he laid eyes on the man. Larry approached him as Jeremy went to get the manager, placing a firm hand on Mickey's shoulder, smiling widely at him.

Lola and Jenna weren't snooping, but they did manage to overhear Larry asking Mickey if he enjoyed working here; if everything was going well; if he was staying out of trouble -- a question that certainly didn't help stop the gossip -- and if he settled in home nicely.

Mickey responded to most of his questions with short, non-descriptive answers, but not with any malice or disdain. He answered them as if he had to, putting an emphasis on the "I'm not getting into any trouble, don't worry Mr. Cheery," making Lola wonder why the question even needed to be posed.

When the manager finally showed up, greeting the man happily, Larry followed him to his office, leaving the others to get back to the customers -- and some to get back to stopping crime. It was only when Larry Seaver left that Jenna shouted, "Oh my God, he's a parole officer!" at the other two workers while drinking coffee in the break room.

"He's a what?" Jeremy asked, slightly confused.

"A parole officer! I heard him talking to the manager about Mickey and how he's settling in. Mickey is a parolee!"

"Jesus Christ, I knew it! And you told me I shouldn't be scared." Jeremy answered with a sullen look, exaggerating a shudder.

Lola quirked an eyebrow at her friend. "Were you eavesdropping?" She was more amused than surprised if she was honest.

Jenna shook her head at Lola in exasperation. "So not the point. Lola, the guy went to prison!"

"We should all just quit now," Jeremy added.

"Come on, you big baby. The guy keeps to himself. You have literally nothing to be scared of." Lola was rolling her eyes at the man, slightly annoyed at the comments.

It didn't surprise her Mickey was here on parole -- it didn't surprise her he was in prison at all. He seemed like the type, not just because of his sullen look and crude knuckle tattoos. It also had a lot to do with the way he carried himself as if the entire world was against him and he needed to protect himself from the inevitable upcoming battle. It was probably why he never spoke to anybody, why he never had coffee with them, and why he seemed to avoid human contact at all possible times. It was also, now, very much obvious why he was so good at guarding the store -- it takes a criminal to catch a criminal, she guessed.

Honestly, it all just made him more interesting.

"I kind of think it's hot," Jenna admitted sheepishly.

Jeremy's eyes bulged out. "You're kidding me."

She shook her head, smiling like a teenage girl. "He's dark, brooding, mysterious. And he's got a really nice ass."

Lola laughed at her friend and at Jeremy's horrified expression. "You should go flirt with him. Maybe you'll be able to figure out if he's single or not." She was only partly joking. Jenna probably didn't need a repeat of what Lola had gone through.

She sighed sadly. "A guy like that is not single."

"Yeah, sure. An ex-con definitely isn't single and is probably in an extremely committed relationship with somebody who loves him for who he is. And that same ex-con guy totally loves somebody back with his whole, entire heart." Jeremy quipped sarcastically and Jenna pinched his bicep in response.

"Love is love, asshole. People murder for love."

Jeremy nodded in response. "Exactly. That's probably why he was in prison."

Jenna rolled her eyes. "You know what? Unlike Jeremy here, I'm not a pussy. I'm gonna go talk to him."

Lola's eyes widened in response and she smiled widely. If anyone would take the bullet for the team, it'd be Jenna. "You go, girl! Get him. Just make sure to be subtle about it"

Jeremy and Lola watched as Jenna went up to Mickey who was standing next to the Old Army store entrance, looking as bored and uninterested as ever. When he saw Jenna approaching, he grimaced, obviously preparing himself for the confrontation.

Jeremy and Lola locked eyes as Jenna began to audibly flirt with Mickey. They couldn't hear everything she was saying from where they were eavesdropping but they didn't hear Mickey even speak. Based on the disappointed look on Jenna's face when she walked into the break room again, they didn't think it went that well.

"So?" Lola inquired hopefully.

Jenna shook her head. "Completely uninterested. I even made my boobs look bigger in this shirt. Didn't work, obviously."

"What'd he say?" Lola probed deeper.

"Well, I asked where he lived, where he used to work, if he was settling in nicely -- and he just kind of hummed."

"Hummed?"

"He barely even answered the questions."

"Maybe he's gay and in a committed relationship with a dude," Jeremy added sarcastically, once again. "Maybe I should go up and flirt with him instead. See if it works for me."

Jenna rolled her eyes at Jeremy's sarcasm. "You're too big of a pussy to do it. Plus he's probably not gay."

Jeremy didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he just smiled. "Whatever you say, Jenny. Oh, by the way -- I totally am."

Mickey never spent his break with the others. In fact, he was either sitting outside the store, drinking Pinkberry and messing around with his phone, or he was at the food court, presumably meeting somebody for lunch. Lola was dying to know who, but she never dared to ask or to check, although it would have been so easy.

The curiosity extended out of the workplace as well -- Jenna, Lola, and Jeremy had a group chat. It was, at first, formed as a work chat, purely for announcements and work hours, but as time passed -- and as the employees and employers changed -- it evolved into something much more. Now, it was their main gossiping media.

 --- old army besties ---

LOLA (9:56 PM): I can't find him anywhere on social media.

JEREMY (9:58 PM): You're obsessed.

LOLA (9:58 PM): Fuck off, Jeremy.

JENNA (10:03 PM): There are a bunch of articles about him escaping prison!!!!!!!!!

LOLA (10:04 PM): NO SHIT

LOLA (10:04 PM): LINK NOW

LOLA (10:04 PM): !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

JENNA (10:06 PM): https://images.app.goo.gl/rzDzCogf1H84QD78A

JENNA (10:06 PM): HEHAGDJADGAIGDAJFGAJFGAJFGA

LOLA (10:08 PM): oh my god

JENNA (10:08 PM): I KNOW

JEREMY (10:07 PM): ya'll are crazy

JENNA (10:08 PM): Is it bad it just makes me even more attracted to him??????

JEREMY (10:09 PM): yes.

LOLA (10:09 PM): NO!

LOLA (10:10 PM): Jenna, same.

JEREMY (10:11 PM): I have a psych ward to recommend you to. Hold up.

JENNA (10:11 PM): Jeremy, stfu

*JEREMY has left the chat*

LOLA (10:12 PM): You wanna add him back in or should I?

JENNA (10:12 PM): Neither.

JENNA (10:12 PM): Let him suffer.

 The gossiping continued for a while. It didn't honestly seem like it would stop at all, and nobody really seemed inclined to put an end to the wildfire gossip that spread through the entire Old Army staff. Not that anyone cared much, either, if they were being completely honest.

One day, though, the Mickey who was always grumpy and never without a scowl seemed particularly furious.

He spoke to no one, he didn't check his phone at all, which was a rare occurrence and almost never happened -- he was usually glued to the thing, always texting someone -- and he basically looked like he was ready to kill the next person who dared steal something from the store.

"Anyone wanna ask what crawled up his ass and died?" Jenna asked lowly, observing Mickey from where she and Lola stood behind the cash register. Jeremy hung around in the back, angry that they still hadn't added him back to the group chat.

Lola simply grimaced. "I guess we've been dealing with happy Mickey all this time."

Jeremy pretended not to pay much attention to them, very much bitter. He just muttered, as a side note, loud enough to get even Mickey's attention, "Yo, I guess they found who killed that parole officer."

That piqued Lola's interest. The murder was all over the news the day before -- a parole officer named Paula had been thrown out the window -- and Lola didn't expect them to have found the killer so soon.

"Already?" She wondered, out loud.

"Who is it?" Jenna asked.

"Some ex of hers -- Shelly, I think. They arrested her yesterday."

Lola released a sigh. "That's some good news. Now she can't hurt anybody else." She mentally applauded the police for the good and quick work.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mickey was listening in to their conversation. She could have sworn she heard him snort when she muttered the last part, the one about it being good news. She saw an opening, and when Lola began to open her mouth and try and include him in the conversation, he had already turned around and left to stand back at his regular spot, expression sullen, pretending as if he never even cared to listen in after all.

Mickey was gone all of a sudden one day -- as the manager had told them briefly, on paid leave. He didn't reveal why or when he'd be coming back, only saying how Mickey had something important come up, and that he'd eventually be back. He didn't seem to be aggravated while talking about Mickey, so Lola guessed he didn't get fired, nor that he was being tested again for his position -- he had honestly been doing great. Better than the ones before him, at least.

Lola was actually somewhat shocked. She was also slightly disappointed he didn't tell her.

Mickey had actually started opening up a little -- not much (when she said little she meant very little) -- but he was finally communicating with them during their shift together, something he most certainly hadn't even tried to do, no matter how hard they tried to push. He also seemed happier, coming in one morning looking the happiest Lola had ever seen him.

It was the first day Mickey made actual conversation with her -- about the ugly clothes in the store, nevertheless -- and she genuinely was starting to like him.

"Maybe he likes you," Jenna told her after noticing them talking.

Lola blushed. "Probably not."

Jeremy snorted and both women turned towards him. "He's probably more attracted to me than you." He muttered absentmindedly while scrolling through his phone.

"Still sticking to the gay theory?" Jenna asked pointedly.

"I may not be dark, brooding, and mysterious, but my gaydar is on point. At first, I was skeptical, but he rocks that pink pastel shirt a little too well." He said, a small smile playing on his lips.

Jenna and Lola shared a look before both rolling their eyes.

"Let's hope he asks you out." Jenna finished and Lola blushed even more. Stupid crush. Jeremy snorted.

She was a little disappointed he was gone but his step-in was a cute guy and the gossip between her, Jeremy, and Jenna was endless -- Jenna and Lola came up with different theories as to where he was which all ranged from family emergencies to crazy prison breaks -- Jeremy would simply roll their eyes at them whenever a new theory came up.

When Mickey came back a couple of days later, it seemed as if he had a spring in his step. For the first time in all the time Lola had known him, instead of a scowl, there was a smile present on his face.

"Holy shit, he's smiling." Jenna pointed out incredulously, and Lola simply nodded shell-shocked. He had a beautiful smile.

It was even weirder when he greeted them when he walked into the store, uttering a simple, "Hey" which neither woman expected.

"So, that's happy Mickey," Lola said under her breath. "Good to know."

The sudden chirpiness didn't disappear throughout his entire shift and Lola began to wonder what type of vacation he had gone on to be this happy. She needed to ask him -- if it could take the stick out of his ass, then it could definitely make her feel like she was in heaven.

The answer came shortly after.

"He's got a ring on his finger."

"What?" Lola and Jenna exclaimed simultaneously, looking at Jeremy like he was crazy.

"The hell are you talking about?" Jenna asked, glancing between Jeremy and Mickey, inconspicuously trying to catch a glimpse of Mickey's hand.

"He's married, guys. He probably got married while he was away. There is a golden band on his ring finger."

Lola and Jenna were surprised they missed it. The ring shone brightly on his left hand, reflecting the shitty lighting of the Old Army store. It looked beautiful and, somehow, it made him look complete. She didn't even realize something was missing until it was there, staring straight at them. That's what the wedding ring seemed like -- a piece of Mickey they were all simply missing. Something that let them know that there was somebody in his life, a single person, who had his heart -- a person who managed to pry open the shell and find the pearl. Perhaps the process was painless; perhaps it wasn't -- Lola supposed there were only two people in the universe who truly knew the answer to that question.

"Well, I didn't see that coming."

Lola chuckled, letting the genuine happiness she felt for him consume her. "Me either."

The next time she passed him, she smiled at the ring widely. "Congratulations! I see the ring." She pointed at his hand.

Mickey smiled softly, gazing at it with a look in his eye Lola could only describe as love. "Yeah, thanks."He seemed a little uncomfortable, so Lola refrained from asking about his wife, and if he had any pictures to show her. She was learning new things about this man every day. The woman who tied him down must have been patient, but also extremely lucky.

"Ugh, I wish he was single," Jenna muttered again later on in the day, gazing longingly at Mickey's ass. "That butt makes the whole ex-con, escaping prison thing worth it."

Lola laughed at her friend, agreeing silently.

It was nearing the end of their shift, and the four people had changed out of their uniforms, getting rid of the ugly pastel pink color, exchanging it with something that was actually fashionable -- Mickey had an especially good fashion sense, in Lola's opinion (he could rock ripped jeans). Mickey had still been in the staff changing room when Lola noticed a guy hanging around the store. A tall, extremely hot redheaded guy, with one of the best bodies she'd seen on a man in a while.

She shook Jenna's arm so she could point out the guy to her, aware that Jenna deserved to gaze at a man this good-looking. He was wearing a tight-fitting black shirt along with skinny jeans that accentuated all of his muscles, from the ones in his arms to his leg ones -- he was ripped, and Lola could only assume there were chiseled abs hiding underneath the shirt. He was drop-dead gorgeous.

Jenna turned around to see what the fuss was about, but her mouth fell open when her eyes landed in the ginger.

"Oh my God, I think just came."

"Me too," Lola admitted. She was genuinely concerned for her wellbeing. "I think we need to get laid."

"Definitely." Jenna's eyes were glued to the man. His hair was perfect too -- slicked back, and just... it was a sort of, ' you simply had to see it to believe it' type of situation. He was beautiful. "Man, how the fuck does God create these men?"

Jenna didn't tear her eyes away. "He must be either really bad in bed or a total douchebag. There's no way he's that hot and nice too."

They suddenly heard Mickey's voice behind them. "Trust me, he's neither."

Lola and Jenna jumped in surprise, but she didn't even have a moment to think about what Mickey said. She was still looking at the ginger, but his green eyes were locked on somebody else though, and he didn't even seem to notice the two women gaping openly at him.

When Lola turned to follow his gaze she was surprised to see it land on Mickey.

"Oh my dear Lord, he's totally eye-fucking Mickey!" She whisper-shouted at Jenna, Mickey being far away not to hear her. Jenna whipped her head around towards where Mickey stood, seemingly unaware.

"Oh my God, he totally is!"

Mickey noticed them staring. He raised an eyebrow at the two women and then as if on a whim, approached them. "You need anything?" He asked, seemingly uncomfortable, but he still paid no attention to the fact a guy was blatantly letting it show on his face that he was imagining all of the things he could probably be doing to Mickey, right now. The redhead had the biggest case of bed-eyes she'd seen in a while.

Lola blinked herself out of her daze. "Um, no. Uh, we just-- we, uh--" She was at a loss for words and Jenna didn't seem to even think about helping.

"Ugh, God." They suddenly heard Jeremy exclaim. All eyes turned to him. "There's a really hot guy outside the store, and he's staring at you." He made a gesture as if saying, 'See, that wasn't so hard now, was it?'. "That's what they're trying to say."

Mickey turned to look forward outside and when his gaze fell on the guy -- the guy he had most certainly already noticed -- his face lit up even more, and his lip curled into a smirk. He turned towards Jeremy and nodded at him. "Glad to see you toughening up."

Jeremy smiled at Mickey as if they were sharing an inside joke, and both Lola and Jenna had no idea what it was. They shared a disbelieving look. "Learned from the best, man," Jeremy replied as they fist-bumped and Lola knew her and Jenna's eyes had to be unnaturally wide.

"So um, so you know the guy outside? He's totally checking you out." Jenna nodded at the hot guy who was still watching them -- watching Mickey, specifically. Lola guessed he was waiting for him, for whatever reason. She guessed hot guys stuck together. If he wasn't a ginger, Lola would have assumed they were brothers and that the good looks simply ran in the gene pool. Lola watched as Mickey locked eyes with the man and smiled. The guy raised his eyebrows in question and Mickey just kept the grin on his face.

"That's Ian, my husband."

Shock couldn't even begin to describe what Lola was currently feeling. If somebody had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water down her back, she would have probably been less surprised. As she was contemplating everything she knew and had been learning about Mickey, the man in question waved towards Ian to join them. Ian made his way inside and Lola could lie and say she didn't swoon.

"Hi." He greeted sheepishly with a smile, previously observing the commotion.

Mickey seemed unnaturally relaxed as he stood close to Ian, wrapping a hand behind his back subconsciously. Lola wondered who the man in front of her was -- it most certainly wasn't the grump Lola had been working with all this time.

"Ian, meet Lola, Jenna, and Jeremy."

Ian smiled politely at all three of them, leaving Lola in a daze -- God, he was gorgeous. She was just about to reply when he nodded at Jeremy specifically. "Sup, Jeremy. Heard a lot about you."

Jeremy smiled back at Ian. "Same, dude. Your husband just can't seem to shut up about you."

Ian smirked, and then turned to look at Mickey, "Is that so?"

Mickey rolled his eyes. "Fuck you both. I got married. What am I supposed to do? Just shut up about it? Hell no."

Ian laughed and draped an arm around Mickey's shoulder. "Don't worry, baby. I don't mind."

Ian and Mickey shared a quick look, and Lola wondered if she would ever find a person who would look at her the way these two men looked at each other. She suddenly felt bad for thinking Mickey was straight -- everything about this simple interaction screamed gay.

"We should head home, I know you've been waiting for ages outside."

Ian nodded. "Yeah okay, let's go." He then smiled at the three people in front of them widely. "It was nice meeting you guys."

Jeremy was the only one capable of responding. "You too."

"See ya'," Mickey muttered lamely as a goodbye and the couple was out of the store in the blink of an eye, arms wrapped around each other, talking quietly, their expressions pure happiness.

Lola and Jenna turned around to stare at their friend.

"What the fuck was that?" Lola asked, incredulous.

The traitor in front of them shrugged. "What? While you guys were coming up with conspiracies and weird theories, I actually talked to the guy. He's pretty cool. He was raised and lives on the Southside where he met Ian. He first spent some time in juvie. Got shot twice. Went to prison, escaped from prison, went to Mexico, worked for a cartel, rolled on said cartel be with Ian. They were in prison together and they decided to get married when they got out. He's actually been giving me tips to boost my street cred. We've been working on that shit for some time now."

Lola shook her head in thought. "When did you guys become so close?"

Jeremy snorted. "When you decided not 5o add me back to the group chat, bitches." He smirked. "Revenge is a dish best served cold." As an afterthought, he added, "I'm not dark and brooding, but I guess I can add mysterious to my list of charms."

Lola and Jenna watched him as he turned around.

"Is it just me or did he suddenly get hot?"

Lola sighed loudly. "I think we've been tricked."

Jenna groaned, suddenly. "I can't believe it. Two men that hot -- and they end up with each other. Like, what the fuck? Why can't there be one for me?"

Lola laughed, but, as always, silently agreed.

Everybody lost their jobs when the pandemic hit, and when the Old Army finally went back into business, Mickey Milkovich wasn't there. The gossip moved on to different topics and different employees -- the hot security guard was nothing but a distant memory.

The next time Lola saw them was years later. She was much older, much more experienced, and much more in love. She had met somebody, had fallen deep, and it had changed her life for the better.

Love was an interesting thing.

Mickey was standing at the corner of a street. The sun was shining brightly above him, and Lola realized he still looked as beautiful as ever -- his face was much more relaxed though as if the walls he had spent years putting up were suddenly all down, letting his pearl shine through, and glint in the sun. He was waiting for somebody outside of a store, and somehow, Lola knew it was his husband.

She couldn't remember his name, but she could never forget the look.

So many years had passed, and Lola had gone through so many relationships -- but the look was what always had her looking for more, never settling for anything short of what she knew she could have. What they showed her she could have.

Once she found someone who looked at her the way Ian -- Lola would only remember his name sometime later in the day -- looked at Mickey, and somebody she would look at the way Mickey looked at Ian -- that was when she'd know she had found the one.

Ian exited the store, much to Lola's expectation, his red hair, slightly grown out, fiery red in the Sun. The boy holding his hand was smiling widely, and the smile only grew once he saw Mickey.

The boy dropped Ian's hand and ran towards -- Lola simply knew -- his father, jumping into his arms. Mickey picked the small boy up effortlessly -- he was no older than five -- laughing along with him as the boy dove into, what Lola presumed, a story.

Ian and Mickey shared a look, so akin to the one they had shared that day, years ago, in the store, filled with so much love, adoration and happiness before focusing their gazes on their child. It wasn't just between them anymore -- the love they had was now for the little boy as well, nurturing and taking care of him, allowing him to bask in it. They probably didn't even realize they were doing it.

Lola felt tears in her eyes.

She had once searched for the look.

Now, she hoped she would one day be able to share this look with her own husband and her own child.

Lola patted her swollen belly.

One day.

She watched as the two men and boy pulled away, still listening to the story the boy was telling. Lola pulled her phone out as she watched their retreating forms.

Lola opened the group chat, typing excitedly.

 --- old army besties ---

LOLA (12:33 PM): You'll never guess who I just saw.

 She was thankful for many things Mickey Milkovich showed her, but the one thing she was grateful for the most was that thanks to him, the gossip never ended.

[panharmonium]

I would like to add Gwaine to the list of friends Merlin had. Especially in the 3/4 seasons he really was ride or die for Merlin, they shared intimate details with each other, they truly trusted each other. There were instances where the show alluded that Gwaine knows about Merlin's magic and is fine with it.

hi there!  i’m assuming this is in response to the post i reblogged about will and lancelot being merlin’s only “real” friends?  

i’m actually happy to write about this, now that the question has been posed - it’s been a while since i wrote anything long about gwaine!

fair warning in advance: i don’t personally classify gwaine the same way i do will and lancelot, and that’s what this piece will cover in more detail, but these are just my own thoughts, and it is totally cool for everybody else to have different opinions.  my take is my take, but it does not have to be everyone’s take - if people wanna scroll past because this isn’t their vibe, i don’t mind in the slightest. :)

so, without further ado - i LOVE gwaine, and i have written extensively about how amazing his relationship with merlin is (some examples here, here, here, and here, if anybody’s looking).  he is the most likely of all merlin’s living friends to ditch arthur in the name of addressing merlin’s needs, which is super important, and he also has a much healthier friendship with merlin than arthur does (in my own personal opinion, of course, which nobody is obligated to share).  he definitely does go ride or die for merlin in S3/S4, i agree.

but my own thoughts on this particular point are still the same as they were in that original post.  i tend to hide my clarifications/explanations in the tags, so they might have flown by, but i’ll just copy/paste the relevant bit here for ease of access, as some background for the rest of this post.

re: will and lancelot were merlin’s only ‘real’ friends:

#what this does not mean: merlin has no other friends!  merlin doesn't have meaningful and important relationships with other people!   #what it does mean:  #every single one of merlin's other relationships is undergirded by the sickening knowledge that those friendships are conditional   #every single one of his other relationships is accompanied by the constant undercurrent of 'they would hate me if they knew'   #merlin knows his friends 'care' about him   #except they don't really; because it's not truly him they're caring about   #they care deeply - about someone merlin made up   #about a facade.   #in the most basic sense   #those relationships aren't Real   #the love merlin feels for the people in them is real   #but you cannot truly be 'friends' with somebody who doesn't even know who you are   #you cannot be loved without being known   #you certainly cannot be loved without being safe

obviously i suppose a person’s thoughts on this would be different if they headcanoned that gwaine knew about merlin’s magic, and that’s fine.  i personally do not believe canon indicates or supports that, but i’m not out to convince people to abandon their own fanon interpretations of things; i’m happy just hanging out in my own space talking about my thoughts.  me writing meta is the virtual equivalent of me talking to myself in my room - if other people have different conversations with themselves, that’s fine :)  i don’t mind if other folks organize their thoughts about things differently.  

in accordance with that - everybody please feel free to continue on with your own interpretations, and ignore mine if mine do not appeal to you!  if people are interested about how i organize my ideas on this, though, they are essentially as follows:

1) a cage fighter, a class traitor, and a fake sorcerer walk into a tavern

ok, to start with - here’s a graph.

(...who tf starts a meta post with ‘here’s a graph’ lol i just drew a venn diagram for the first time since like...middle school...i LOVE fandom, man, this is RIDICULOUS)

anyway

this is a very rough interpretation of how i think about gwaine, lancelot, and will:

to address some of these elements individually:

lancelot and will give merlin something that gwaine can’t - safety, authenticity, the comfort of being known and seen for real, a respite from constantly qualifying every friendship with ‘they would hate me if they knew’

lancelot and gwaine, likewise, give merlin something merlin wouldn’t be as likely to get from will (if will were still alive, i mean) - an understanding of merlin’s devotion to the Crown, a supportive ally in the fight to promote arthur’s reign and keep arthur/camelot safe

will and gwaine, for their part, are more likely to tell arthur to go fuck himself, if it’s important for helping merlin, and that’s a different kind of support that merlin also really needs.

and will, on his own, gives merlin something that neither lancelot NOR gwaine can provide, which is a friend who isn’t connected to or even particularly interested in arthur pendragon (merlin has nobody in his life like this, not after will dies) - somebody who knew and cared about merlin before merlin had any proximity to arthur, before this whole ’destiny’ issue reared its merciless head.

everybody in merlin’s life matters to him and gives him something important.  gwaine is STUPIDLY important to merlin.  the love there is real.  but in canon, because gwaine is not in the know, gwaine is still one of the people from whom merlin feels compelled to hide himself.  gwaine is right up there alongside gwen, arthur, elyan, percival, etc - every other person who merlin loves, who merlin nonetheless constantly, back-of-his-mind fears, ‘they would reject me if they knew.’

the above is part of why i personally have never been too interested in ‘so-and-so knows about merlin’s magic’ canon-imaginings.  there’s absolutely nothing wrong with them, and i’m sure people must have tons of fun with them - and in an AU context maybe i would have fun with them too - but as hopeful interpretations of actual canon, they don’t appeal to me.  merlin’s near-total isolation and desperate, constantly-frustrated desire for real, honest love is an inalienable aspect of his character for me, one i can’t separate from who he is and why he does the things he does and why he eventually ends up in the place where we find him towards the end of the show.  

2) i just want someone to see me for who i am

i have seen a bit of sentiment out there along the lines of ‘merlin should have told (x person) about their magic’ or ‘(x person) obviously doesn’t have a problem with sorcerers,’ but i guess i personally don’t think it’s as clear as all that, and i think me saying it is would be doing merlin a disservice.

merlin’s desire to be seen/known/accepted is literally the most base urge he has.  if he truly thought he could tell somebody safely, he would.

i think merlin knows the people in his orbit well enough to know how they feel about sorcery, at least in a general sense.  and even if they aren’t bloodthirsty bigots like uther, they aren’t exactly welcoming magic with open arms, either.  at the most basic, elementary level, merlin understands something that we don’t like to think about: none of his friends ever challenge arthur on the sorcery ban or express any dissatisfaction with the political status quo, and, even absent outright bigotry, this fact speaks loudly enough in and of itself.  merlin’s friends might not be out clamoring for sorcerers’ blood, but they aren’t criticizing a society that criminalizes sorcery, either, and they are never shown to have a problem with the way things are, even though the way things are is wrong.

The Way Things Are is, in fact, unjust.  it’s oppressive.  and allowing that state of affairs to continue, unquestioned and unchallenged, when you have access to the king’s ear and aren’t personally in danger of being persecuted, indicates that you’re okay with the injustice.  that you’re comfortable with the oppression.  that you don’t see a problem with the status quo, and that you're unbothered enough by it to let it be.

it doesn’t matter that merlin’s friends have never straight-up said ‘boy, magic sure is evil’ onscreen.  they never say that camelot’s policies are wrong, and that delivers a clear enough message on its own.

3) it is not a crime to fight for your freedom

to bring this back to gwaine specifically, since that was originally the focus of this ask -

for me, for all that i adore gwaine, and for all that i think he was, for the most part, an INCREDIBLY sound, healthy relationship for merlin, the truth is that gwaine is as much a part of this problem as everyone else.  does that mean i personally think gwaine would have summarily dumped merlin if he’d found out merlin had magic?  no.  but i don’t think it’s as uncomplicated as maybe we wish it might be, and i think merlin has every right to be as uncertain of gwaine on this issue as he does of everyone else.

for one thing, like i said before, even gwaine, who used to have fewer qualms than any of the knights about pushing back on arthur’s BS, has never said a word about camelot’s injustices, or ever acknowledged that the laws of the land are unjust to begin with.  

for another, there are specific moments that kind of make you wonder.

5.05 (’the disir’) is a good example of this - when gwaine finds osgar in the woods, the two of them have this exchange:

you are a sorcerer, a heretic, and a murderer.  

the rhetoric of this sentence frames all three of these things as equivalent entities - criminal ones.  

to pick this apart more carefully:

a) sorcerer

it’s worth noting here that we’re never told osgar has done anything worse than evading arrest for the crime of being a known sorcerer.  when leon mentions him in the council meeting, the conversation consists solely of the following:

“as you know, a few days ago our garrison in the forest of breckfire intercepted the man who goes by the name of osgar.”

“the sorcerer.”

“the same.  they were trying to apprehend him when he used his powers to escape.”

and…that’s it.  osgar’s crime, as far as we know, was simply being a sorcerer (and then, after that, attempting to escape an unjust arrest, thereby killing a knight in the process).  there’s no mention of any other activities that would have warranted his arrest in the first place, other than the possession of magic.

but magic, even on its own, IS a crime in camelot - and gwaine levels the accusation at osgar as such.

b) heretic

that’s a hell of a word to throw around, if you think sorcery is chill.

“heretic” isn’t a mild accusation.  "heretic” has vitriolic severity behind it.  people are accused of heresy when they’re perceived to be in brazen defiance of what is (in the eyes of the accuser) unquestionably right and correct.  “heretic” is like…it’s like blasphemer.  the connotation is not just that something is bad, but that it’s sinful.

for gwaine, either osgar’s association with sorcery and/or his defiance of camelot’s army makes him a heretic.  and that’s not something a person who is down with sorcery or supportive of a magic-user’s struggle for freedom would say.

c) murderer

if gwaine were cool with sorcery, we would expect him to understand that a sorcerer who resisted arrest for the crime of being a sorcerer isn’t a murderer.  

it’s like kara said in 5.11 - it is not a crime to fight for the right to be who you are.

camelot has been killing sorcerers for decades.  osgar mortally wounded a soldier (not an innocent civilian, i might note) who was trying to imprison him.  he was resisting the armed forces of an oppressive state.  that’s not murder.

somebody who understands that camelot is an oppressive regime wouldn’t think of this as murder.  they would understand that it is not a crime to protect your own life when the state has literally been trying to exterminate your people for years.  and even if osgar had been engaged in rebellious activities against the state (which as far as we know is not the case - nothing like this is ever referenced!), they would understand that people with magic have long been overdue for a righteous uprising.  

but gwaine is a little more like arthur, in this moment - he sees the “wrong” that osgar has done (in the form of sir ranulf’s death) without seeing the thousands upon thousands of wrongs that camelot visited upon the magical community first.

4) you can’t go armed into a sacred place

the rest of this episode is similar.  gwaine pays just as little heed to merlin’s warnings as the rest of the knights, when merlin admonishes them that the disir’s cave is sacred.  gwaine doesn’t relinquish his sword or take special care upon entering the cave.  in fact, he is the one who outright interrupts the disir while they’re speaking - as they’re telling arthur a series of hard truths, that he’s persecuted magic-users, “even unto slaughter;” that he’s desecrated their space: “you come here, to the most sacred of the sacred, to the very heart of the Old Religion, with weapons drawn - trampling hallowed relics - treating our sacred space like you do your kingdom - with arrogance - with conceit - with insolence - ”

and gwaine cuts them off, pushing to the front of the group and shouting at them “enough!  you speak of the king!”  and that’s when the fight starts, when mordred gets stabbed.

someone who was fully accepting of magic, or who knew anything about it at all, would not have behaved this way.  they would not have bristled at hearing how arthur’s regime unfairly persecutes the magical community.  they would have known that it was true.

5) i just want to be myself

the above is just one example, but it’s a clear enough one to illustrate what i mean.  gwaine IS an amazing friend to merlin.  he does treat merlin well.  and merlin loves him to death.  but gwaine is NOT totally chill with magic.  i’m not saying he actively hates it, but he is not, from what merlin has witnessed, entirely safe.  merlin loves him, but he can’t be himself around him.

and i do think that pains merlin terribly.  all these people who he loves so much, and every time he’s with them there’s always that whisper: ‘this is a charade.  all the love in my life is a lie.  they only like me because they don’t know me.  if they knew who i really was, this would be over.’  

and we wonder why he never tells anyone.  we tell him he ‘should’ have told gwaine, gwen, morgana, arthur, like it would have been easy, or even possible, for him to ever consider putting himself in a position where he could lose what precarious, partially make-believe connections he has.

merlin, in the later seasons, when he worries about his magic being exposed, isn’t afraid of being executed.  he’s afraid of becoming even more alone than he is now.  and he has good reason to feel that way - even people who appear to put him first aren’t fully on board with the thing that makes him who he is.  and merlin knows this.  he’s seen it.  none of his friends are out fighting for people like him at court.  some of his friends shake their heads and assure arthur “you are a good and just king” when arthur expresses concern that maybe the disir are right, maybe he has indeed transgressed.  some of merlin’s friends used to buck the system in defense of the powerless, but now they defend the regime even when the accusations levelled against it by an oppressed population are true.

merlin knows that revealing himself is a kind of risk that could very plausibly end with him utterly disowned.  every single friendship he has is subject to this justified fear, this bitter knowledge.  merlin has every reason to doubt the soundness of his relationships.

and, circling back to the thing that started all these musings - the only friends who never made him feel that way were will and lancelot.

that’s all i mean when i say that will and lancelot were merlin’s only “real” friends.  i wish there were a better word to use than that, because i really don’t mean it like…as if merlin’s relationships with other people weren’t…valid, or important, or based on true love and care.  they were.  but there’s just not a better way to express that will and lancelot were the only people who ever even knew who they were friends with, who saw merlin for exactly who he was and said “i love you still.”  they were the only ones whose friendship was something merlin didn’t have to be afraid of losing solely for existing.

i always think of morgana’s line in 2.11 - ‘i don’t want to be brave.  i just want to be myself. i don’t want to be alone anymore.’

around everyone else, merlin has to be brave.  he has to keep up the pretense, which means even when he’s surrounded by friends, he’s completely isolated.

with will and lancelot, though, he could be himself.  with will and lancelot, he wasn’t alone.

6) post-script

i really appreciate being given the opportunity to muse to myself about this in more detail - i actually needed to think through some things regarding gwaine anyway, for writing purposes, and this was actually really helpful in organizing my brain.  so thanks, anon, for the prompt!  

i know my answer probably runs counter to your own interpretation of things, but as i said, this is just my own personal outlook.  i typed it up because the message got me thinking, and because i know i have a couple of friends who might find it interesting, but my thoughts apply only to me, and i do not mind at all if folks think about these things differently!  nobody is obligated to agree with anything i write, or give it any further thought, or even read it at all - we’re all going to engage with this story in different ways, so if anybody finds that this isn’t their cup of tea, please feel free to scroll on by, and keep having fun with this show in whatever way makes you happiest! :)

[phoebehalliwell]

Prue gets together with Mitch (reincarnated Micah) and lives. How does their relationship evolve over the rest of the series?

okay so fr because like i've been thinking about this I've Been Thinking About This. WHY give us that connection if we're not gonna do anything with it??? WHY make it worse my literally giving us the guy THE EXACT SAME GUY and then never mention him again What is the motive?????? okay okay okay so here's what i'd do: 2.6 undercut lmao

because prue has really only had two boyfriends in the series so far: andy & jack (bane doesn't count as he was more of a tryst and also he's in jail :'( could have been fun tho! he could have sacrificed himself for somebody else and become a whitelighter he already knows the ins and outs of the underworld like. could have been something there. but as they were only together twice, once when prue was posing as a hitwoman and then again when he kidnapped her, he, tragically, does not him boyfriend status.) so here me out andy is a cop he represents protection and familial ties / ties to the past (prue's childhood best friend, already friends with the sisters, he's also a third generation cop so like there's that too). he represents prue's early stage, where she feels like she has to be the protector of the whole family, of which she is basically the matriarch. she doesn't get to have fun, she has to protect her sisters and now the whole world, and her past is having some very real effects on her life right now. that's her andy era.

jack era is at buckland's, it's her breadwinning era. we even saw in morality bites (which, i am once again bringing up, is fake) that she goes on to be superbillionaire whatever. so jack kind represents professional ambitions, amplified by the fact that the fonet also served as a blatant metaphor for their relationship (prue, the world is made up of almost perfect. it's nothing but near misses and necessary compromises. in this case, i think we got a little bit of both. that's okay, i know how you feel. i'm just asking you not to look so close. nothing bears up under that kind of scrutiny. are you talking about the monet? yeah, that too.) and that their relationship ends when she decided to leave bucklands to pursue a career in photography.

so now we enter season three, which is prue's artist era, her passionate like zeal for life era she finally seems to have a weight lifted off her shoulder for the first time in a long time like you can tell she like. trusts her sisters more than she ever has before she sees them in a new light and knows that they are strong and smart and independent and she doesn't need to protect them every waking hour. this era's for prue. so i'm pitching that micah mirrors this by being an artist, too. i wouldn't say the same medium (photography) as prue because like. prue's definitely someone who would compare herself to him just like subconsciously constantly that's the type of woman she is, but maybe like a painter. not a writer because they're all insufferable. lmao 🤙🤙. but someone who lives in a hella nice studio type loft filled with art and just like life. passion. something prue hasn't really allowed herself in like. a hot minute. and i would make micah (mitch??) a witch. haha it rhymes. scratch that i'd make him a warlock. or a darklighter i'm cashing in my half-darklighter character. it's mitch now. idk how this would fit into phole narrative foils maybe or we scrap phole but they're really coming from two different perspectives where cole is entering the joint like i am evil and here to murder and then he catches feelings whereas mitch would be like yes i have some dark past but i'm not letting it define me bonus points is prue is able to piece together the clues of his origin just by looking at his paintings. this also adds to the rift between prue and phoebe on prue's cole stance like oh your evil boyfriend is fine but mine, for some reason, is still evil? yes. oh you know what we keep the source's heir in this au let me continue.

instead of introducing mitch in p3 because like WHAT WAS THAT, we instead, parallel their first meeting. mitch's origin story is

his mom was a future whitelighter knocked up by a darklighter this was not intentional on anyone's part mom wasn't trying to become mom dad wasn't trying to become dad Nor did dad know mom was a future whitelighter. because well he's not great at being a darklighter in spite of maybe being like the. head darklighter's son he's like the fucked up son who doesn't wanna run things. he doesn't know he has a kid!! until something something an oracle or something tells him he has a son But he can't find mom because she's cloaked by her whitelighter. mom dies doing something heroic idk (maybe mom was a firefighter??) and then cloaking on mitch is lifted when he's in his late teens his dad finds him his dad is now like proper leader of the darklighter clan and is trying to bring mitch into the fold which initially he is game for because mitch has all these powers black orbing touch of death that he doesn't understand and finally a community to explain that to him! he gets a crossbow (which is lit) but um. quickly catches on to how blatantly evil the whole thing is. he's secretly teamed up with some whitelighters (not his mom tho. friends of his mom, but he's not allowed to see her :'/ ) to help get other halflings like him out and cloaked.

leo's been taken hostage by the darklighter something something something a plot a plot a plot we do some solid pleo angst we maybe have cole drop some thinly veiled advice about the underworld without coming out as a demon, something that will help the sisters later. but what's really important here is they're sneaking through the underworld maybe they've been split up and they need to find leo so either they're looking for him Or they're looking for a darklighter to interrogate. and prue hears shifting behind a rock and goes over to look and it's mitch and some kid and the kid immediately summons his crossbow but mitch knocks it away just like prue did with piper in the past and piper's like prue u see anything and she's like no nothing here and then mitch and the kid blackorb away which just leaves prue with this sinking feeling like what the fuck?? because. what the fuck??? a) that was the same guy from puritan times and b) she still feels the same she felt back then and c) it's clear he does do but d) --and this is the crucial one-- D) he's fucking evil????? so blah blah blah we save leo but now prue is left with one crucial question what the fuck is going on?

so what she's gonna do is research the town the colony whatever that melinda warren was born in she astral projects to salem or whatever and steals. maybe the mask mitch wore at the party she recognizes it from all hallows eve. and she brings that home and scrys with it. and she finds him!! and um bonus points looking at his place she sees he's an alum of the college she went to because backstory!! when prue was in college back when she was still pursuing photography before grams got sick, they had met before! once before, at a party, and it was this instant spark, this instant connection, but then something pulled them apart be it one of them was already in a relationship or their ride was leaving something but like. again! this connection has always been there. so like blah blah blah prue has broken into mitch's place she sees their college connection she sees his art and starts to pull together a life story he sees maybe some paperwork that just says like in bold letters like saving kids: good person activities something real obvious you know and that's Right Next To his crossbow. ~juxtaposition~ so like. what the fuck is this. but whatever that'll be dealt with later she has to get to work! but!! at the magazine her boss is like hey prue some guy came by here earlier asking for you you know [description of mitch], [description of mitch], [description of mitch], you know him? and prue's like ummmmmmmm. no. ?. and her boss is like ?? i don't really care. photography! but now she knows that while she's been digging up on him, he's been doing the same with her. so that night at p3 prue's like okay i've got to come clean with u guys remember micah and phoebe's like oh yeah that hottie from the past who was like . spiritually in love with you? and prue's like yeah i found him. and piper and phoebe are like 🤗🥳😃 and prue's like. and he's a darklighter. and piper and phoebe are like 😳😶👎 and prue's like yeah remember when like we were trying to save leo and you asked me if i saw something? well i did. it was him and and this kid and i think he was trying to save him and phoebe's like wait you think? and prue's like well i mean yeah phoebe like. it was like the same thing when he saved us in the 1700s. and phoebe's like well no because we're good witches and he saved us you saved a darklighter? and prue's like he's more than that phoebe and phoebe's like but how can you know (flash forward to her sparing cole in about three episodes and being like hmm 😐 those words are gonna bite me in the ass).

the point is they're hashing it out phoebe's devil on the left and piper's trying to be angel on the right But he is in the clan that kidnapped her husband so like..... but prue is explaining the good person papers she found on his desk, the fact that she went to college with him, she's like. she thinks he's only half darklighter and he's helping others like him and piper phoebe are like ....................do you just want him to be half darklighter and helping others like him but prue's not even listening but look who's coming down the stairs!! so she beelines over and phoebe's about to follow but piper holds her back bc wait let this play out they'll watch from afar and piper will freeze the room if she has to.

and something something something blah blah blah they tal and there's this tense like. what now. because like. What Now? you're evil and i'm a charmed one but this invisible string pulling me here whether i want it too or not. and i think prue kinda shifts back into her earlier seasons self where. it's family above all else. like i need you to steer clear because if i see you again i will vanquish you. and mitch knows she's bluffing. because he know that if he tried, even if he really wanted to, he couldn't harm a hair on her head. and it's clear she's like. suffering from the same ailment so to speak.

something something something maybe they have a couple quick brushes but not actual meetings And Then we get another time travel/past life episode where!! as it turns out. prue and mitch r soulmates cursed by a spurned lover to always be on opposite sides. meanwhile we just got cole demon reveal/cole's still alive reveal so prue's like hi mitch you're. evil. evil-adjacent. what do you know about belthazor/cole turner. and mitch does his due diligence and like. the stuff on belthazor is appalling. genuinely terrifying. but then there's some stuff on cole turner that's like kinda okay. this is were mitch does is big tragic backstory reveal, kids born of dark magic falling in with the wrong crowd blah blah blah and this kind of. supports our theory moving forward it's not really a theory. our endgame moving forward of healthy!cole. also prue and mitch still have not gotten together through all of this in spite of the cosmic pull and the past evidence of like. soulmatism. because they're both a bit too pragmatic they both think it's kind of a lost cause. blah blah blah pining we give prue a mini love interest here someone to keep her mind off mitch and we do make him good. kind, attentive, caring, smart, hot, but like. it's so painfully obvious she's not all in. so he calls it off. heart to heart with piper because piper's like hi you're in love. and prue's like yeah with a doomed relationship i think i'd rather not and piper's like hello you're talking to the queen of doomed relationships you wanna know the secret? and prue's like yes :( and piper's like just go for it. the time you have together is. it's better than anything else you'll ever have. there's gonna be heartbreak, but hell there's always gonna be heartbreak in the halliwell family. wouldn't you rather spend your time with someone you love?

something something something leo/mitch/cole buddy episode b plot. leo/mitch/cole/DARRYL buddy episode b plot. :D. prue and micah get their big first kiss in a very tv show build up way my heart is saying new years and all the fireworks go off around them.

we're bringing in paige because i love her she's first introduced by some seer oracle whatever as your other sister and the girls are like respectfully, bullshit. but micah's like hey......... she's half whitelighter. because he can sense those kind of things, being a darklighter. and piper and leo are like patty's affair....................... and all the pieces are falling together and in this one. paige either gets a witch love interest a cupid love interest or we keep henry because fwiw i do really like mortal love interests. if we do do the witch love interest it won't be richard i love him to piece i do but he sucks <3. source!cole time.

oh we introduce paige thru mitch trying to help one of his kids and that lands him at social services.

source!cole. idk what happens here but like. using our nifty-difty tool box the squad has been assembling over the years helping all of these wayward souls born from evil, things mostly work out fine. source's heir is born, a girl, but since prue isn't dead her name is either colette or victoria. depends if cole died or not.

prue moved out at some point and lives in a hella nice studio apartment with mitch they r both artists (who the fuck is paying for that?) phoebe moves back in the manor post-source fiasco paige moves in the manor but spends a lot of time with her sister prue and soon to be brother in law (??) mitch. (paige is like fr dude when are you gonna pop the question and mitch is like woahhhh pump the break because paige is new here and when she saw them she's like oh. married couple. but then they're not married. engaged? nope. no just loosely dating? okay. lame. bad idea. but as it turns out one of them always dies so they're just trying to avoid that for as long as possible) but paige spends a lot of time at pritch's place because not only is it The Art Zone it's also the rehabilitating kids zone, of which paige is a grand help. prue jokes about how much paige reminds her of phoebe as a kid, and since we're already muddying the timeline, we're having paige enter and solid advice columnist, married phoebe and paige is like haha what the fuck??

source's heir born twice blessed born magic school located under the charmed & co squad becomes integrated with children born of all magic and like our season 8 wrap up saccharine finale is like how magic has reached a new era of peace n understanding. <3

[jackedspicer]

a bio for my xiaolinsona! she’s a work in progress so i’m bound to come back and change it. trivia and more in depth information is under the readmore :)

continued trivia:

she’d show up somewhere near the start of season 4

she’s used a LOT for slapstick. in fact she’s mostly a comic relief character

she’s guided mainly by emotions, is right brain oriented, and is a hands-on learner

there is a running gag where she frequently has bandaids on her fingers, hands, arms, or anywhere really

she’s a massive funk junkie. LOVES disco. she’s also a great dancer

when she comes up with xiaolin showdowns, sometimes she’ll base it off of fun recreational activities or things that seem harmlessly mundane, like mini golf..... tic tac toe.....dance-off...... rock paper scissors..... the showdowns themselves obviously end up being high-stakes and lethal as they always are, except they’re based off of goofy premises

she’s probably musically accented by grunge that’s slightly funky

when it’s funny, she occasionally will use huge words or make jarringly philosophical statements, eg patrick star’s “the inner machinations of my mind are an enigma” cut to footage of milk spilling

shes a lot like charlie kelly. in general. any charlie moment is just. Her. she’s a wild card and screams every line and huffs glue and tries to get the honey out of a hornets nest outside of jacks house because she thinks hornets make honey and she likes ghouls and she genocides the rats in his basement and sleeps ass to ass with him and is illiterate

she likes to do arts and crafts but they almost always come out as abominations. she’ll occasionally borrow some of jack’s tools to construct her latest atrocity, and she’ll refer to them by a wrong/made up name while she’s at it. “the hacksaw duey”, “the electric hole puncher,” ”the automatic pizza cutter”, etc. yes the projects and the bandaids have a direct cause and effect relationship. please refer to this video (and this channel in general)

imagine her sitting at a table and just doing this in jack’s lair... this video alone can be used to sum up so much of her. the technique. the bandaids. the blatantly wrong information that’s said with such conviction. the dark turn towards the end of the video. “superfluous protrusion.” the way it ends

continued trivia pt. 2, taken from my instagram

(i’ll get into this more further down the post)

fighting style because this is xiaolin showdown:

she has a very nimble, disorienting style of combat. using pokemon stats as an analogy, her highest would be speed by far, followed by attack, with her lowest stats being defense and special attack. this combined with her unrelenting nature makes her an excellent distraction and a general nuisance, but she doesn’t fare well in prolonged head to head battle.

favorite shen gong wu: 

monkey staff, mikado arms, fancy feet, neptune helmet, hoduko mouse, woozy shooter (on herself), tongue of saiping, longi kite, indigo pyramid (on jack (cause it’s funny))

*the shen gong wu she’s most skilled with in battle are ones that trip up her opponents and cause status ailments. kinda like a prankster

backstory/analysis:

at her core, she’s a jolly, optimistic, humorous person, but her unruly, isolating childhood put a blow on her psyche. much like jack spicer, she’s been virtually alone her entire life - she was rejected by peers and adult figures alike since earliest childhood, and her home life was turbulent at best.

to ease the pain, at some point, she took on resenting and judging those around her as a means to cope. she has a holden caulfield-esque defense mechanism in play where if everybody sucks for this reason, or that reason, or those reasons, then she has justification for detaching herself from others, and she can derive her only source of self esteem from being better than them. this hurts far less than the devastating truth that she cannot connect with people on account of feeling so worthless and estranged from other human beings that she could never have the chance to be cared about by anyone. deep down, she’s in desperate, thrashing need of support and genuine human connection, and she has a warped perception of how she can achieve that.

she’s taken up evil as a hobby because it nurtures her desire to be destructive and, again, just like jack spicer, she engages in it as a way to feel seen. all press is good press, and the best way to make the headline is to cause some damage. what sets her apart from him in this regard, though, is that she takes all of her pain out on her enemies (in this case, the xiaolin monks) because she can’t stand how well off they are - instead, on the basis of their acceptance of one another, she sees them as goody two-shoes phonies who ought to be knocked down a peg. while evil to jack is both a means of getting much needed attention and a convoluted way of spending time with friends, to sid it’s a way to vent frustrations and a way to, well... still garner attention, but also spend time with a friend, except the friend is jack.

the other half of the reason she partakes in petty villainy is that it’s just... fun. she only got wrapped up in all this because she’d been restlessly putzing around somewhere remote, found a neat doohicky she planned on keeping, and when one thing led to another she wound up in a xiaolin showdown against jack. experiencing the chaos unfold revealed a golden opportunity she couldn’t pass up, so she asked jack to let her come with, debuting their partnership (i talk about this in further detail at the end of the post). goofing off and doing evil with him is so much fun to her! it makes her feel alive, a sensation and state of mind she never could fully achieve before.

noteworthy relationships:

jack: 

they have a team rocket thing going on. not in terms of their interpersonal dynamic, but rather their role in the story, how much of a threat they pose as, their schemes, and even their overall attitude are reminiscent of the iconic duo; they’re petty, recurring villains with hearts of gold who aren’t above occasionally siding with the good guys.

even though they both are on the same tier of comic relief and general foolishness, the metaphor i like to draw is that jack is the left brain and sid is the right brain.

their personalities have such chemistry and they’re both so goofy that they effortlessly sync up. everyone thinks it’s REALLY annoying

they’re best friends! they actually care very deeply for one another, even if they might have funny ways of showing it. they may be evil, but they’re mutually the only and closest friend the other has ever had, and with that carries a lot of weight. think of it - the first person you meet who hasn’t been nothing but awful to you likes you and wants to be around you. What a concept

while their relationship is platonic, there are several gags implying a romantic element, even though nothing is ever outright stated. kisses on the cheek, bashfulness, other characters making fun of them (“where’s your DUMB little girlfriend?” “..........she’s not DUMB!!!!!”), domestic references (“am i sleeping on the couch”)..... it’s left ambiguous because it’s hetbait plain and simple. somebody asks them what they even are and they say Partners In Crime wym. jack asks sid What Are We and she fist pumps the flat of her own chest twice, throws a peace sign and says We’re Bros

their nicknames for each other include but are not limited to “jackass, jacky-boy, jack-o-lantern, smarty pants, wiggles, spack jicer, spack, mr spack, spackle”, and “shortstack, pipsqueak, sid the kid, champ, funky monkey, foxy (in a funny way, he’ll say it like Whatcha Up To Foxy ? while she’s like making a mess doing an arts & crafts abomination or just vibing bein her weird lil self....  it comes from a place of playful sarcasm and affection) (champ, funky monkey, and foxy are courtesy of @currentlyfallingthroughspace)

to piggyback off of the left brain vs. right brain metaphor, “heart vs. brain is how they think, right brain vs. left brain is how they act, and two halves of a heart represents their natural dispositions” is how my aforementioned friend put it. they both have a lot of heart and are ooey gooey on the inside, but the difference is that sid can grasp the intricacies of emotional/psychological matters while jack can’t (actually knowing how to EXPRESS this is another topic). it’s in the same way that jack can effectively plan ahead, use logical reasoning, and know where to go and how to get there, but sid is shabby in this department. “one is aware but doesn’t address it until it’s too late, and one can’t see it and doesn’t ask until it’s too late.”  

another feature of potential conflict in all incarnations of them is the juxtaposition of sid actually being more down to earth than jack in the grand scheme of things. jack has the potential to go completely overboard, and whether or not he demonstrates the ability to catch himself on the event horizon will ascertain the outcome.

deep down, neither of them are truly evil, and they bring this out in each other as they ultimately contribute to the redemption of one another. how this actually happens is a lot rockier. sid has the intuition and self awareness to become increasingly cognizant of the fact that she engages in schemes as a way to bond with her friend, and, over time, she’s able to recognize that she’s simply been acting out, and she consequently softens up over time - but jack is much denser in this regard. he doesn’t consciously pick up on the same things she does and still believes that she’s drinking the koolaid as much as he is. the crucial dissonance in what matters most that had been incubating under the weight of things left unsaid emerges in a major falling out that challenges the nature of their entire dynamic and respective moral codes. i had a lot of help from the same friend with the following series of events and it’s really something that ought to be gone into detail on its own post, but a whirlwind brief summary is that jack becomes desperate from losing over and over so he comes up with this sinister plan that’s just too far, sid tells him to stop, they get into a nasty fight, sid leaves and makes it clear she’s not coming back, she goes to the xiaolin dragons for help, jack goes on an evil rampage but also loses his grip and has this mental breakdown because he lost the one person who’s ever cared about him (or so he thought), sid has the same brutal separation pangs but it doesn’t change the fact that jack is still doing what he’s doing, sid gets a firsthand view of a fight breaking out between the monks while she’s working with them and has a moment of clarity when she observes how they resolve it in such a healthy way, as they continue to work together and help her through the whole fiasco she realizes they’re not so bad, an entire excruciating series of events that’s genuinely too large to fit on this post unfolds and it ultimately ends with jack actually having to team UP with the good guys to stop what he started, and it ends with them breaking down, apologizing, and beginning their redemption BUT not without the illustration of several lessons that arose out of the complications of the entire thing...... the overarching lesson that’d been entrenched in their entire dynamic from the start, albeit corny, is that caring and being cared for was all they ever needed, and they learn to cultivate that within each other right under their own noses. it would be fun to have them stay as recurring villains forever, but seeing how much good is in their hearts is enough to make you wonder how they were ever evil.

xiaolin monks:

she thinks she hates them, but she doesn’t really. while her opinion of them is marked by resentment and distaste, she also holds them in high regard. a part of her wishes she could be friends with them, but the mental landscape she’s paved for herself doesn’t reveal that as an option. in her mind, she’s already been rejected by them. so why try?

the way she takes her pain out on them - people who had nothing to do with her traumas - can be summed up by the spinel su quote, “why do i want to hurt you so bad? i’m supposed to be a friend. i just want to be a friend.”

she gets chummier with them upon her redemption. out of the group, she gets along best with clay and dojo :) 

bonus origin episode

this would be the imaginary early season 4 episode i mentioned at the beginning of the post. it’s more of a loose string of ideas tied together with reckless abandon but hey. the episode would open with jack feeling lonely and down on his luck to establish the theme that he kinda needs a friend (”wuya’s gone, chase trained his cats to get surly with me if i show up, my evil dream team won’t answer my calls....”). his sulking is interrupted by a shen gong wu alert and he’s like. whatever. i don’t need them. i’m still gonna do this on my own. even if it’s. ˡᵒⁿᵉˡʸ. fastforward to the scene i described where sid is putzing around with her doohicky (which i’m considering might be the neptune helmet) all by her sad miserable lonesome when suddenly some flying bloke in a trenchcoat who looks like he hasn’t seen the sun in years shows up telling her she’s got something he needs. she of course responds with something along the lines of “you know what? why don’t you try to take it from me since you want it so bad, mr big stuff,” triggering a xiaolin showdown. this is around the time the xiaolin dragons show up too late - but they’re grateful for somebody having been there to fight jack in time, even if they have no idea who they are. she has no clue what’s going on, but whatever it is, she LOVES it. she goes buckwild. she has a time. jack, on the other hand.... well, understanding how badly he needs that wu is certainly throwing a wrench in it, but he can’t help but feel like he’s having a bit of fun too. well, up until he loses. post-showdown, the monks kinda count their chickens before they hatch so to speak and they rush over to this new kid with a shower of praise, thinking they have a friend on their side. instead, she cuts them off, shouts to the guy who’s gathering his bearings (or lack thereof) - “hey! jack was it?” - and playfully tosses her shen gong wu in the air, catching it. “you look like you need this thing way more than i do. tell you what! take me with and i’ll let you borrow it,” is what she follows it up with, implying she wasn’t really that invested and only saw the whole thing as a fun game. jack and the monks are flabbergasted. what’s more bizarre is she did in fact ask to join him, something nobody’s ever done out of their own volition before. she talks about how boooooooooooring it is here and how that was soooooo much fun and to pleeeeeeeease take her with. he’s really iffy about it and doesn’t know if it’s such a good idea. he tries to make himself look cool, telling her “as IF, shortstack..........im afraid The Jack Rides Alone................................................. but-” and ultimately buckling because he can’t deny that it would be nice to have someone around.

[magpiejay1234]

The Kenny discourse

I was thinking about character dynamics with Ursula, but since I have been watching a lot of Diregentleman, I decided to focus on Dawn’s other antagonistic rival, our Diamond boy Kenny. I already have a bunch of ideas on how to use him in the fic largely as a foil for Conway and Leona. But this will be more of a metafictional-speculative discussion of our boy, because I have lots of brainworms related to him. Most of these have been stuff we discussed back in Serebii and Bulbapedia forums, so you can sort of see this as the Kenny fanon bible.

*First and foremost, Kenny was screwed with a bad hand in his conception. He is meant to be amalgamation of Gary, game Barry, and Drew.

**His parallels with early Gary are obvious, he has a Water starter, he is always one step above Dawn, he actually evolves his Pokémon, he is an Alakazam (whic is one of Gary’s large number of Pokémon caught for sake of his grandad in Johto arc), and he is a boisterious idiot. The problem is of course he does not have an horde of adoring fans, nor any natural charisma that would be attractive to anyone besides Dawn. 

However, most importantly he is not the main rival of Dawn’s contest arc. When Gary was Ash’s rival in the OS, he was the Big Chungus. Even though he loses early on the Kanto League, much like how Kenny loses in the Appeals Round of Sinnoh GF, you have no illusions of Gary missing after Orange Islands filler. With Kenny, you can’t be so sure, since Dawn’s hasn’t won against Zoey to our knowledge.

**His parallels are with Drew are more superficial, but they are there. Even though Zoey is clearly designed to be a lesbian from the start (as seen her settei/character sheet), Kenny is clearly meant to be a possible romantic interest for Dawn, and they actually work decently. The big problem is not Zoey’s homosexuality here, but Pearlshipping. As you know, after High Touch, the central relationship in Dawn’s life becomes his relationship with Ash (and to lesser extent Brock). 

This means Kenny’s character arc cannot be fulfilled if his goal is indeed Dawn (even though that wasn’t initially his goal, but we’ll discuss that later), because Ash exists, and if Ash exists, Dawn will always choose him as long as show runs because marketing. And since we haven’t seen any reference for any of Dawn’s rivals in her future appearances except technically Ursula with Dawn’s battle poses in BW and her style, we are presumed to assume both Kenny and Zoey were ultimately unimportant.

**His parallels with game Barry are more superficial, but ultimately they are the ones that stick, especially after Barry is introduced properly in the middle of DP. Much like Barry, he is a childhood friend from Twinleaf. Much like Barry, he is jumpy, often scared idiot. And much like Barry, he is an unassuming genius and his Pokémon have a “heroic” theme of sorts (compare Rapidash, Roserade, Floatzel,Heracross, Snorlax with Breloom, Alakazam, Machoke, and Floatzel)

The problem is, of course, unlike Barry he does not have an important family, and since he doesn’t have an important background, we can’t have the generational parallel that exists between Player character and Barry, and Player character’s father and Palmer. And while Kenny’s character develops, he remains thoroughly childish, not in the innocent way but in the overbearing way. Unlike game Barry, who eventually grows up to being the character with highest Leveled Pokémon up until Platinum (since he will be overtaken by Red in HGSS, the Sephiroth of the main line Pokémon franchise).

*Secondly we should discuss his parallel with Gary. That makes me wonder, since Gary screwed up in Kanto and decided to grind more seriously in Johto, leading us the first major multi-part rival fight Ash had in Johto League, would Kenny be the same? What would be her and Dawn’s rank in that final confrontation? Would Dawn actually win such a fight or lose? Her win-loss ratio with Kenny is rather even, rather the one-sided loss ratio Ash with Gary.

If she wins again Kenny but loses against somebody else at Top 2, then she would be stuck at the same rank as Sinnoh. But if she wins against Kenny at top 2, she becomes a Top Coordinator (not a “Top” Coordinator, but you know, annual championship winner, similar to Tobias, not similar to actual permanent Champions). And if Kenny wins, he would become a “Top” Coordinator. Similar issue exists with Zoey, but I might discuss that in her post.

That would raise another question, since during this point in the animé, after losing against Ash, Gary gave up on his championship goals, so would Kenny give up on coordinating? Fanon says yes, but canon says a hard no.

*Thirdly is that Kenny is show in canon to be unapologetically be serious about contests. No really. I get that it is like a common trope to kick him to the Pokémon League, but no, Kenny is shown time and time again to be actually serious about contests.

I guess people got overboard with his more physical style of contesting, but Ursula has that as well, and I don’t see anyone trying to make her a Pokémon League contestant. The “you must die for our ship/character” thing is rather stupid, especially since Kenny actually has interesting rival dynamic with Dawn (besides shipping, I mean), but yes, Kenny not only started his contest tourney before Dawn, his first major battle was against Zoey (which he lost).

As for Kenny often runs away after his losses, I guess people took it wrong way, but that is because he is a energetic idiot who wants to grind as quickly as possible, as we often see him in a training position before he meets up with Dawn and co. We don’t if this is a Ralph Bakshi sitution, where he can only do contests and not Pokémon League tourneys, since his impatient nature and battle style isn’t really fit for League-ing. Speaking of which...

*Fourthly we should talk about Kenny’s contesting. His fighting style is rather similar to Dawn’s, since he uses the techniques of his opponent against them. This often works if he is more powerful or more skillful, but if there is a major skill/stat/Level gap, it becomes an utter failure (see Zoey flashback and DP061). However, his style more sumo than Megaman, since he wants to ensure his opponents fail due to their own techniques, rather than copying their tactics like Dawn does.

This creates an interesting dynamic. Kenny must defeat Dawn using her strength, while Dawn must emulate Kenny’s attempt to use his strength against him. This means Dawn is more likely to win is she is the weaker one, but less likely to win against Kenny if she is stronger. Dawn should still ideally defeat him physically to dominate him, but metaphorically knocking him out of the ring still works enough.

Kenny’s style is also interesting since he uses general stat buffs and status moves, like Light Screen (on Alakazam), Mist (on Prinplup), and Focus Energy (Machoke). With the exception of Breloom, we don’t see a focus on moves an opponent weaker (as seen with Ursula), or generally disorient the opponent (as seen with Zoey). This seems to suggest he is more focused on his Pokémon look good, rather than making his opponent weaker. Again, since his battling style involves using the strength of his opponent against themselves, this makes some sense.

But would this work in a Gym environment? Well the general answer should be no. Since the point of Gym Battles in the animé is fighting like the Gym Leaders, or thinking outside of the box. Kenny’s fighting style might work in some Rock and Fighting Gyms like Chuck’s, but I can’t see him having success elsewhere. It is however perfect for contests, since animé contest battles are about defeating your opponent in a stylish way.

I might add more addendums to this post, but these are all the Kenny brainworms I have.

[atomic-taco-muffin]

The Lost Princess Chapter 64

Warnings: I actually don’t know this time

Rating: SFW

A woman sat in a tower in a dark realm while humming a song. (same song from the beginning of this story) She looked outside the window and saw the waves crash on the beach. 

“Don’t worry, (Y/N). You’ll see me soon,” she said. 

~~~~

You, Vanitas, Rumi, the twins, Sora, Donald and Goofy met at Yen Sid's Mysterious Tower. You all stood at attention as the former Keyblade Master sat in his tall chair.

“In order to defeat Xehanort, there are allies we must gather, acting now to rouse them from their slumber. We have discussed this before, Sora,” Yen Sid said. They all nodded. “Your Mark of Mastery exam was conducted in the hopes you would acquire the power to wake them. However, the darkness nearly took control of you, and your grasp of your new abilities leaves much to be desired.”

Sora looked sad and You, Vanitas, Rumi, the twins, Donald and Goofy shared concerned faces.

“Furthermore, Xehanort nearly made you, (Y/N), and Vanitas his vessel, and in the process stripped you of most of the power you had gained by then. I suspect you have already noticed this, correct? But first, you must regain all the strength you have lost. Perhaps it is foolish to expect a complete recovery, but it is absolutely vital you perfect one power--the power of waking, which you failed to master during your exam. There's someone who lost his strength and found it again, a true hero to whom you ought to pay a visit,” Yen Sid said. Sora perked up and struck various bodybuilding poses, to Donald's less- than-amusement. You and the girls giggled while Vanitas chuckled. “Perhaps he can point you in the right direction.”

“Got it,” Sora saluted. Yen Sid nodded. 

“Master Yen Sid...” Donald said. 

“You can count on us to take care of Sora!” Goofy said. 

“I would have it no other way. I put Sora in your hands. Girls, take care of them. Including you, Vanitas,” Yen Sid said. 

“You got it!” you said. 

“Oh come on! We can take care of ourselves!” Sora said.

“No you can’t,” Roxy said. 

“Well whatever!” Donald said. He turned to look at Sora. “And don't forget, we'll keep an eye on you.” he held out his hand. 

“Oh, this is gonna be lots of fun!” Goofy said as he joined with his own hand.

“It’s not a vacation!” Yui said as she put her own hand in. You, Rumi, Roxy, Vanitas, and Sora completed the handshake. 

“Let's go!” Rumi said. You all stood at attention toward Yen Sid.

“Count on us!” you all said. Yen Sid nodded and you all headed towards the Gummi Ship.

“Hey, Vani. Ready to see your sister in action?” you said. 

“I think you’re ready to see me in action,” Vanitas said. Later, you all flew in the Gummi Ship, seemingly going nowhere. You, Donald, Roxy, Vanitas, and Sora crossed your arms impatiently. Sora whined as Donald glared at him.

“How're we supposed to get there now?” Sora asked. 

“What? I thought you knew!” Roxy said.

“Looks like all the old highways are closed. Didn't Master Yen Sid say that Sora should trust the guidance his heart gives?” Rumi said. 

“C'mon, Sora. Which way?” Donald said.

“Ummm...” 

“Hey, would you get serious?” Vanitas asked.

“Gimme a break, I'm trying. These things take time!” You, the twins, Vanitas, and Donald sighed. 

“Well, since we've already been before, why don't you try picturing out friends like we're there?” Goofy asked. Sora stood up and walked behind his chair.

“Hmmm...” he said as he made a bicep pose, mimicking Hercules.

“What the hell are you doing?” you asked. Sora ignored you and continued making the pose.

“Well?” Yui asked.

“Sorry, I got nothin'. What did you expect?” Donald fell back into his chair, exasperated while you, Vanitas, and the girls sighed. 

“‘May your heart be your guiding key,’” Goofy said.

“Huh? What's that?” you asked.

“Master Yen Sid always said that, right before we went off on any of our real important adventures.” 

“Really?” Sora asked. You turned to look at Donald. 

“Ring a bell?” you asked. 

“Uh-uh...” Donald said. 

“Maybe I just imagined it,” Goofy said as he scratched his head.

“You imagine a lot of things,” Vanitas said. 

“‘May my heart be my guiding key,’” Sora said. He got an idea and ran back to his chair. “I've got it!” 

He summoned the Keyblade and aimed it forward. The tip glowed brightly and a portal opened ahead of the ship.

“It’s a gate!” you and the others said. Sora sat in his chair.

“All right! Olympus Coliseum, here we come!” he said. He grabbed the controls and the ship sped off into space through the portal. You, Sora, Donald, Goofy, Vanitas, Rumi, and the twins landed on Olympus in a small cave.

“Huh? Uh...” Sora said as he looked around. But there was no one around.

“No fanfare?” you asked. You mocked playing a trumpet. Donald listened for one, but shook his head.

“Un-uh...” he said as Goofy and the others looked around. 

“Nope, looks like we missed the Coliseum,” Goofy said. Sora continued looking around.

“Sora, YOU opened the gate!” Roxy said. Sora scratched his head bashfully.

“I was a little off again. Sorry! We'll find him. But we need to go!” he said as he started walking. You ran up to Sora and followed him.

“Up the mountain?” Yui asked. 

“Yeah. ‘Up’ is the usual direction,” you said. 

“Well, never hurts to have your head in the clouds,” Goofy said. 

“Yeah!” Sora said. Vanitas snorted. You and Sora smirked and made a tough fist. Goofy and the girls giggled and Donald and Vanitas gave a sigh. You and Sora continued walking with Goofy, Vanitas, and the girls following behind.

“Hey. We're leaving!” you said. Donald opened his eyes and jumped with a shout, running up to catch you all. Soon, you all reached a clearing with a few trees.

“I think we might be goin' in circles,” Goofy said as you and Sora thought.

“Sora...” you, Donald, Vanitas, and the twins said judgmentally.

“Did I make a turn at the wrong rock?” Sora asked as he walked closer to the edge and called out. “Hey, Hercules! Where are youuu?”

“What’s that going to do?” Rumi asked. 

“I don’t know. I thought that it might work.” A wisp of smoke landed near you all and out of the cloud appeared...

“All right. I know I dotted my I's, crossed my T's, zeroed the hero. So what gives? Who could possibly be trying to give me a migraine by yodeling that yutz's name?” Hades said. 

“Really? Hades?” you asked and Hades sighed. 

“Oh, it's just you. Oy vey. Don’t know who those people behind you are though,” he said. 

“It's just us? Even for you that's cold,” Sora said. 

“Don't forget...I can always TURN UP THE HEAT!”

“Wait. If Hades is here, then where's this Hercules person?” Rumi asked. Hades whirled toward Rumi, startling her. She yelped and hid behind Roxy.

“What is everyone's infatuation with that dolt?!” he said. The blue flame on his head bursted into a large red one, turning his skin red as well. He glared at Rumi for a moment before cooling himself down, becoming blue again.

“You know what? Never mind. Never mind. I'm cool. I'm good. Because...Wonderboy'll be outta my hair soon enough,” he said. You and the others summoned your weapons. 

“So you're up to no good again! Why am I not surprised?” you said. 

“Of course he is,” Goofy said.

“You bet!” Donald said. 

“Whoa, easy--what is this, Sparta? Kind of on a schedule. Don't have time to toss around the old fire and brimstone. The whole cosmos is basically waiting for me to, you know, conquer it!” Hades said. He walked away and you all dispelled your weapons.

“Poor Hades. He thinks he can actually pull it off this time,” Sora said. 

“Where are my Titans? Show me your power!” Hades called. The sky turned dark and the ground shook. An enormous shadow loomed over you and the others and Donald hid behind Sora while you clung to Vanitas and Roxy before a blast of icy wind came over the mountain. Above, lava flowed from a nearby precipice.

“Ahh! Love the breeze,” Hades said. The wind gained speed and shedded its icy qualities. You and the others struggled to hold on but were swept up and off the mountain. Hades looked over his handiwork.

“Ahh. That sent 'em sailing,” he said and suddenly paused. “Sailing right to where I left...Eh, no biggie.” He gazed upward at the Titans.

“Nice work, boys! So, back to the whole cosmic coup thing?” he said.

~Le Time Skip~

In the city of Thebes, Hercules wiped his hands together, having done some heavy lifting, when upon hearing the sound of screams, he turned, seeing You, Sora, Donald, Vanitas, Rumi, the twins, and Goofy flying towards him. His eyes widen and he jumped into the air, catching you, Rumi, Sora and Goofy in both arms. He landed on one knee and stood.

“See? Found him,” Sora said. 

“Yeah, guess this counts!” Rumi said. Hercules chuckled.

“Hey! Get us down!” Vanitas yelled. Herc turned to see Donald, Vanitas, and the twins caught on the fangs of a lion statue.

“Just a second!” Donald yelled and crossed his arms with a glare. Herc walked over and helped them down. 

“You guys are here! Sora, Donald, Goofy! You literally dropped in. Gotta say, I'm impressed,” he said.

“Thanks!” Yui said. 

“Liked the catch,” Goofy said. 

“Yeah, thanks Herc. But...what's going on?” you said. You looked around at the burning city, smoke plumed billowing into the sky. Several cracked stone buildings surround you all. Hercules sighed.

“Take a guess. Starts with an H,” Herc said. 

“Ah, I get the picture. Actually, we bumped into the H-ster on the way here,” Roxy said. 

“Uh-huh,” Donald nodded.

“He said something' about conquering the whole cosmos,” Yui said. 

“All of it, huh? Nice of him to show a little self-restraint. Well, whatever he's planning, I'll send him running back across the Styx.” Herc and Sora striked a pose, you, Vanitas, and the girls giggling. 

“That's our Herc!” Sora said. You all walked through the city toward a gigantic statue of the famous hero himself.

“So Sora, (Y/N), is there a reason you guys are visiting? I'm guessing it's not just for the cheese and olives,” Herc said. 

“Oh yeah!” you and Sora said. 

“It sounds like somebody forgot,” Rumi said. 

“That's Sora and (Y/N) for you,” Donald said. 

“Why am I not surprised?” Vanitas asked. You and Sora crossed your arms. 

“We just...took our time remembering. Herc, I came here so I could ask you something,” Sora said. 

“Ask ME?” Herc asked. 

“Yeah. Do you remember the last time we were together? You were feeling down and out. How'd you get your strength back--when you jumped in and saved Meg?”

“Hmm...that's tough. All I know is that she was in trouble. Suddenly, I wanted to save her with all my heart, but...it's not like I could tell you how.” Sora looked down.

“Oh man,” he said. 

“What's wrong?” Herc asked. 

“All my strength is gone from me too. That's why I need you--because I was hoping you might have a solution, or something.” 

“I'm sorry, Sora.” You, Donald, Vanitas, and the girls saw a shower of meteors over Herc's shoulder, but on closer look, they're actually...

“Heartless!” you all said. Most of the Heartless landed, while one struck the statue of Hercules on the foot, causing the enormous statue to topple over. You all took out your weapons.

“Let's talk later!” Herc said. 

“Right...once we've dealt with these guys,” you said. 

~Time Skip To Where We Meet Xigbar~

Facing no response, you and the others frowned before hearing footsteps. A large figure walked out of the cloud of dust, the hero himself coming into view. Hercules dusted off his armor and you all exclaimed joyfully. Herc brushed his chin with a sigh of relief.

“You scared us!” Sora said.

“It's nothing. That's what these are for,” Herc said. Herc flexed his biceps. Goofy chuckled and he and Donald mimicked Herc. You all heard a portal open and a familiar, though unwanted, face stepped through, peering at them through his yellow eye.

“Oh, wow! Very nice, full marks,” he said clapping.

“Uncle Xigbar!” the twins and Rumi said.

“You...” Vanitas growled.

“Go away!” Donald said.

“No Organization!” Goofy said.

“All this altruism is giving me the warm and fuzzies. So then, does having a heart of light come with an extremely good insurance policy?” Xigbar said.

“Just say what you mean,” you said.

“Oh, but I did though. No good will ever come from putting other people first.”

“I was able to save Meg's life because I was ready to risk my own,” Herc said.

“Because you've got friends in high places, you mean. Tricks like that don't fly for your average joe.” Hercules was speechless.

“What do you know? You weren't even there! If you were, you'd admire Herc's courage,” Yui said.

“I don't admire one guy leaping into danger if it means someone else might have to jump in to save him. You're all just lining up to lose out. Dooming others to take the fall with ya. Oh, and you can spare me the usual party line. Yes, hearts are powerful when they're connected. But if you put too much of that power in one place, some of those hearts might end up breaking.” He pointed toward you and the others. “Still, that doesn't mean you should change. Accept the power you're given. Find the hearts joined to yours.”

“Why would we ever take advice from YOU?” Vanitas asked.

“As if! You don't have any choice but to follow this sweet little trail of bread crumbs. And at the end, you'll finally realize what destiny has in store for you. In fact, your reward might be right around the corner. You're so close!” Suddenly, you felt something squeeze in your chest and you fell to the ground.

“(Y/N)!” your friends exclaimed. 

“Oh, I forgot. We put something inside of your heart. What it is still remains a mystery to me,” Xigbar said. He walked away, laughing to himself, and vanished. By the time he was gone, the squeezing in your chest ceased. 

“Are you okay?” Rumi asked. 

“I-I think so,” you said. Vanitas and Roxy helped you up and you tumbled into Roxy’s arms.

“Woah! I gotcha!” she said. 

“What happened?” Sora asked.

“I-I don’t know. But we know that the Organization did something to me,” you said. 

“We should keep going. We still need to protect the people,” Herc said.

“Right!” you and the others said. 

To be continued...

[charlesoberonn]

Ms. Mailbox - Part 1

(This one turned out long so I’m splitting it up into parts. I’ll write the rest soon)

It all started when I busted up her mailbox. This isn’t a euphamism for sex, I mean it literally. I drove by with my buddy and smashed her mailbox with an aluminium baseball box.

That turned out to be a bad idea almost immediately. The bat was bent all out of shape, and my wrist was all mangled and sprained. The mailbox was bent too, but only barely. Overall an unproductive session of vandalism.

My friend drove me to the hospital right away. I remember thinking as I was waiting in agony about how awful everyone around me in the waiting room were. How much more deserving of treatment I was. I didn’t even think about what I did to bring this on myself.

After staying home for a couple of days, my parents finally scraped me off the living room couch and got me to go back to school, injured arm and all.That morning, I walked through the hall with a sour face and an armsling. When an athlete boy does it, his friends all support him, but I didn’t have friends in this school.

Before first period I was summoned to the principal’s office. He was a stern man, yet at the same time it seemed like all the life had been drained from him and he didn’t give a single fuck anymore. He told me that he knew how I got injured like this. It wouldn’t be my first act of “hooliganism” as he said, but he couldn’t prove it. So he assigned me somebody who’ll help take notes for me.

That’s when I noticed Ms. Mailbox waiting outside. She was a year younger than me, and quite a bit shorter, somebody who could easily escape notice if it wasn’t for her beautiful golden hair and her pretty doll face.

I didn’t know she was Ms. Mailbox at the time. I had no idea whose mailbox I smashed that day. But thinking about it now, I think she did know, even back at the principal’s office.

The principal gestured her forth and she went inside, quickly and politely sitting beside me. She turned to look at me and introduced herself with a smile. But there was something weird about that smile, it clashed with poorly concealed bags under her eyes.

She went to shake my hand with her right hand. Since my right hand was currently in a sling, I shook it with my left and we had an odd and unsymmetric handshake. Afterwards, the principal unceremoniously drove us out of his office. I was happy to leave.

I didn’t need to be introduced to Ms. Mailbox, I knew who she was and she. And she knew who I was. As we exited the office, a third girl was waiting for us. Taller than me, with blue highlights in her hair and an eyebrow piercing. With no warning, Ms. Mailbox and Bluebird kissed, right in front of me. I almost gagged and looked away in second-hand embarrassment. Though I don’t think there was any first-hand embarrassment in their embrace.

It was hard being one of only 3 out lesbians in the whole school. Even worse than 3 being such a small number, it’s an odd number, and I was the one left out without a date. Not that I liked any of them. In fact, in that moment I decided I hated them. Especially Ms. Mailbox. That hate wouldn’t last til the end of the day, as I would later find out.

She kept waving her girlfriend in a flirty way as we walked to my first class of the day. I just sighed under my breath. As if I wasn’t in enough pain already.

First period was fine, I didn’t have to do anything in terms of writing, but the teacher kept eyeing me to make sure I’m listening, which was a bit awkward. My eyes darted towards Ms. Mailbox, she worked fast. I figured she would just write stuff down and then give me a copy, but she actually wrote everything twice. First in her notebook, and then while everybody was still copying off the board, she copied off her own writing in my notebook. It was crazy.

I wanted to comment on it, but the teacher’s hawkish stare made me a bit scared to even open my mouth to yawn, so I just looked. After a while, the mesmerising sight of Ms. Mailbox’s quick and neat handwriting got me in some sort of daze. My eyes drifted upward to her face, her eyes which darted about the page, and her pink painted lips, which were slightly apart as she wrote, and closed again when she looked up.

Near the end of the class, she turned suddenly to look at me. Almost gave me a heart attack. I instinctively used my hand to hold the table, not remembering that it’s injured. I winced in pain. And the bitch giggled at me.

Later after class I told her I was impressed with her. Then I clarified I meant her handwriting after she gave me a long pause. She smiled, and I sheepishly smiled back and thanked her. Blegh.

The next period was gym, where she wouldn’t be of much use, but she insisted on coming along to help me anyway. I told her it was pointless, and she should go to her own class, but she told me back that she had no use of going to class anymore. I was perplexed, but I let it slide and let her come with me.

The gym coach told me that even though my arm was injured, I could still do some leg exercises. I bullshited to her something about my wrist being too hurt to move and got a full pass, though I’ve been warned that I would have to make up whatever exercises I missed. I scoffed. To my surprise, Ms. Mailbox scoffed with me.

We sat on the bleachers and watched the other girls play. I was bored. My phone had to be placed in the box when we entered the gym. I tried leaning on my healthy arm but couldn’t find a pose that didn’t get in the way of my sling.

“Here, you can lean on me.” I heard Ms. Mailbox offer me. I gave her a weird look and declined.

“What’s up with you?” I asked her, in an admitedly very impolite way.

“What do you mean? Can’t I offer a girl in need a place to rest her head?”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“Yes? What? Ew, no. Not like that. Thank you very much.” she scoffed again. “I just want to be helpful.”

“You already are helpful.” I told her.

“Thanks.”

“Wasn’t a compliment, just stating a fact.” I leaned back and rolled my eyes.

“Facts can be compliments.”

“Do you want it to be a compliment?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

She paused. “Ew.”

We sat in silence a bit, I half heartedly glanced at the girls playing volleyball. It was almost hot, looking at their bodies bouncing up and down and getting sweaty. I would’ve been hot if they didn’t all suck at volleyball. Not like I could complain, though. I couldn’t even hit a mailbox right.

I yawned and leaned back a bit too far, my butt sliding off the narrow and slippery bleacher and I stumbled. I tried to grab at the next seat with my foot but I slid right under it, I was going down. But only until I was caught by a surprisingly sturdy grip from Ms. Mailbox, who grabbed at my armpit and helped me back up.

“Thanks.” I said, my voice a bit unstable from the jump the near-fall gave me.

“Is your arm alright?”

“What? Oh yeah.” I checked on it. She went to check on it as well, but I swatted her hand away. Gently.

“May I ask how you got it?”

“You may not.”

“Okay.” she seemed a bit disappointed.

I paused, thinking for a bit. My eyes were wandering again, down her face from her pretty blue eyes and slightly puffy cheeks.

“Only if you tell me why you don’t go to class.”

“Oh!” she perked up immediately. “Well...... I do study. Just not here. I study at university level.”

I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel immediately incompetent in comparison.

“University level?”

“I finished all high school exams last year, more or less. So they let me go to uni from Monday-Wednesday.”

“But until the academic school year starts you’re stuck here with the rest of us.”

“Very observant.”

“Thank you.” I paused again. “So like, do you have university friends and stuff?”

“What? Oh yeah, I do. Wanna see some pics?” she pulled out her phone. I immdiately went to hide it.

“Wait, not here.” I pointed to a loose seat that led to under the bleachers.

She nodded, and we quietly scooted over to it and down under. Ms. Mailbox helped me down the narrow hole by supporting my slinged arm.

It was cosy in there, the only light coming from screwless screwholes and her phone screen. She showed me pictures of her friends. Most of them seemed pretty boring. Dudes and dudettes in vest and glasses sitting in study halls and buried in their books or on the computers. Even more than people, she pictures of statues there, and trees, and the buildings themselves.

“Damn girl, did you take a pic of every branch on campus?” I whispered.

She giggled in response. “Only the interesting ones.”

We made sure to get back up and sit idly in place for when the coach came back to dismiss us and give us our phones back. Then we moved on to the next period laughing among ourselves at pictures of amateur student art projects that Ms. Mailbox took.

The rest of the day went smoothly. We mostly just talked, often during class, which pissed off the teachers but I found hilarious. To my surprise, Ms. Mailbox found it funny too. I didn’t know that at the time, but I was already rubbing off on her. We tried keeping our chats down low, but by the end of the day neither of us gave any fucks and we were talking quite loudly. Needless to say we were kicked out of the class.

As we were waiting outside the classroom for the bell to ring so we could take our bags and go home, Ms. Mailbox asked a question.

“Hey, how did you sprain your wrist? You said you would tell me.”

“I did.” I shifted a bit uncomfortably, becoming suddenly aware of the little to no distance between us.

“Was it as bad as the principal said?” she elaborated.

“Pretty much.” I answered naturally, as thought I’ve known her for years. I kind of regreted being so open a moment later, but at this point it was too late, I was already mid-answer. And I did sort of promised her. So I spilled the beans.

“Yeah, it was bad, I guess.” I soft-balled. “I smashed a mailbox with a baseball bat out of a moving vehicle. Thought the mailbox would break. Turns out I broke first.” I chuckled, trying to pass it off as a no-big-deal. Just a funny anecdote.

“I see.” was all Ms. Mailbox said.

There was a silence between us, and I felt a strange uncomfortable feeling I haven’t had since I was a child. I felt like I was being judged, and more than that, that I cared about the judgement.

“You s-” I wanted to make a snarky a remark, but just at that moment the bell rang.

We both hurried back into the class before the torrent of students spilled out of it. The teacher was the last to leave before us, and gave us a stink eye as she went out the door. It was just the two of us now.

The tension from before hadn’t gone away, in fact it was heavier.

“You’re not surprised?” I turned my head down. “You had me all figured out for a Bad Girl already, huh?” I tried picking up my backpack with my healthy arm, but getting it to stay on my back was a challenge. It was kind of ruining the cool apathetic vibe I was going for.

Ms. Mailbox put on her backpack and reached up help me. She put on the straps on my shoulders with efficiency and gentleness. I could swear I felt her rub my shoulderblades a bit as she did.

“No, that’s not it. I just deduced that’s what you did.” she explained.

“Deduced?” I asked like a clueless idiot.

“Yeah.” she walked out of the classroom and looked back at me with a pair of beautiful eyes. “It was my mailbox you smashed.”

With that, Ms. Mailbox became Ms. Mailbox. And the seeds of something between us were starting to sprout.

[moon-ruled-rising]

as the rain hides the stars

Read the full story on ao3...

ix: just an arrogant son of a bitch

You can’t blame me darling,

not even a little bit.

And I’m just an arrogant son of a bitch,

who can’t admit when he’s sorry

-Harry Styles, “To Be So Lonely”

Sitting in the cavernous official office of King Rhaegar Targaryen felt unsettling. Whether it was the dark color scheme or the dragon statues leering at him, Jon couldn’t say, but the subject they were gathered to discuss certainly didn’t help.

They were situated around a smaller table in the room, not the impressive desk at the other end. Papers were splayed around and Ned and Rhaegar spent hours discussing each point in the new contract. Daenerys stewed in silent rage across from Jon, as she had that morning.

The Starks were invited to breakfast in the formal dining room with the royal family. Jon expected another stuffy, extravagant hall with a mile long table weighed down by hundreds of food options. The Targaryens basking in the glory of their ostentatious wealth. What he got surprised him. 

The impressive chandeliers were off in favor of the natural light from the tall windows. The mile long dining table was much more modest with just enough seats to fit all of them in. And the light breakfast foods were offered on a platter in the center. 

The only open seat was across from the Princess and Jon swallowed down the curses he wanted to utter. She had her back to the windows, the morning sunlight making a halo out of her white gold hair. The princess looked up when he entered, something strange flickering in her eyes before she tore her gaze away. Under any other circumstances, Jon would’ve appreciated the beautiful scene and maybe tried his hand at a compliment, but considering their confrontation the night before he thought it best if he kept his mouth shut.

Just the look of her brought back images of last night. Wet hair over a black clad shoulder, a whiskey bottle clasped in a pale hand. The drenched, see-through slip and a pair of violent violet eyes trying to conceal their anger at the world.

She avoided eye contact with him the whole time, preferring to push her food around her plate and throw a few disinterested comments Elia’s way. 

She spoke to Jon only once, breaking her pointless silence to say, “I trust your jacket made it back to you.”

“In perfect condition,” he answered. 

They returned to their silence for the rest of the breakfast. Occasionally, Jon would sneak a glance at her, only to find that she was looking at him too. They both averted their eyes and went back to their food.

The two played the same game as Rhaegar and Ned discussed yet another point on the treaty. 

“There is one thing I would like to propose as an amendment to the contract,” the young woman spoke up, straightening her posture from the slouched, disinterested pose before.

“What’s that Daenerys?”

“The Crown Matrimonial.”

King Eddard sighed and Jon tightened his hands around the arm rests to keep his face from betraying him.

Reading the change in demeanor the princess asked, “Is there a problem?”

Eddard began, “No, it’s-”

“You’ve no right to it,” Jon blurted

She arched an eyebrow at him, tilting her chin up in defiance.

“What my son means is that traditionally the crown matrimonial is-”

“I know. Only granted when the consort in question proves themselves worthy through an act of honor or great courage. I think entering a lifelong commitment to provide your country with supplies to make it through winter is an honorable action.”

“Dany…” Rhaegar sighed.

As she turned her head to look at her brother, Jon noticed the numerous braids in her hair. All wrapped and pinned around each other with precision. She looked like a queen sitting on a war council, carefully planning her next strategic move.

“Normally, the honorable action is childbirth or, in ancient cases, serving in war. It’s a title that must be earned, not bartered away. I hope you understand that this is the reason we withhold the crown matrimonial.” Ned explained.

Rheagar and Daenerys exchanged looks, the King’s eyes burning in warning.

“Is there any way we could keep it on the table?”

“Of course but the final decision rests with the Council of High Lords.”

Jon didn’t want to believe what he was hearing. Were they really so desperate? 

Daenerys hummed, “No crown, no contract.”

With that she stood and strode from the room, as though it was a casual conversation between passers-by.

“I’m very sorry about her. She just needs time.” Rhaegar collected the papers and put them into a folder marked with the Targaryen crest.

Ned nodded, “I understand.”

“She asked that we give her a month before anything is finalized.”

“And if she decides against this?” Jon asked.

Rhaegar reached for a second folder and opened it, “ I doubt she will but, just to be safe, we planned a month-long tour of the North. If you give her a chance to see why your people need her, she’ll be sympathetic. Daenerys may not act it but she has the biggest heart in this family.”

The tour of the North was strategic to say the least. The first stop in White Harbor, a public appearance at one of the homeless shelters there, then to Winterfell for a few days before setting off to the Mountain Clans. They would arrive in time for Midsummer celebrations. 

It would be fun to watch the southern princess try to understand the ancient celebrations. He couldn’t wait to see her reaction when they told her it was rude to not participate.

When he returned to his rooms he found Robb and Sansa planning a night out. And before he knew it he was dressed up and towed to a rented car.

Sansa made a big deal about wanting to spend more time exploring the city instead of stuck in the castle where they felt like outsiders. Jon knew she just wanted to be seen by the somebodies of King’s Landing.

“Sansa, where are we going?”

“I heard a couple of ladies talking about the Dragonpit last night.”

“The Dragonpit?” Robb rolled his eyes.

Everything in the damned city had a dragon theme to it even when the business didn’t exclude dragon energy.

“It’s super exclusive with tight security and I think we should go.”

“What makes you think they’ll let you in? You’re still seventeen.” Jon joked.

Sansa protested in her usual way, “And three-fourths! Besides, my age doesn’t matter because I’m somebody.”

“Yeah, everyone in the South knows who we are.” Robb’s sarcastic comment had no effect on her positive disposition.

“They will by the time we leave.”

The Dragonpit was in the basement of a high rise in the New City. Cameramen crowded the entrance, held back by a velvet rope. The flashes of their cameras like lightning in a summer storm, their shouts the accompanying thunder. 

Sansa walked down the paved path with all the confidence of a queen. Flipping her hair and smiling for the cameras, flanked by her brothers. Robb gave his best performance but Jon couldn’t find it in him to fake anything. The bouncer didn’t even try to stop her and as they descended the stairs, they found themselves in another world.

The name ‘The Dragonpit’ insinuated a medieval vibe but the space beneath the building was ultra modern. The dance floor was crowded, the people revealed through flashes of the stage lights surrounding the DJ’s booth. Low red lights around the club signaled where the extra seating was. Sansa went straight to the dance floor, Robb following to keep an eye on her. Jon however, went straight for the bar. 

The backlit liquor options and the black marble countertop were too fancy. The heavy bass from the music made it so Jon had to shout his order to the bartender. His unwillingness to be there doubling by the second. 

A commotion at the entrance drew his attention. The song blasting through the speakers faded out and the DJ proclaimed over his mic, “Looks like a special guest just dropped in. Ladies and gentlemen, Her Royal Highness Daenerys Targaryen!”

This time Jon did swear, the applause and cheers loud enough to drown him out. The Gods had it out for him, he was certain of that now.

The track switched back on, the bass reverberating through the crowded club again. Jon’s eyes followed her as she was swallowed by the people on the dance floor. The bright strobe lights reflected off her silvery hair and the impractical hoops hanging from her ears threw it any which way.

It wasn’t long until she made her way to the bar.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she complained when she saw him. 

Her hair was still braided from earlier but the short red dress was a complete turn around from the soft grey sweater she’d worn that morning.

“If you care to know, my sister dragged me here.”

“You’re sister? Isn’t she a bit young to be going to clubs?”

“No one tells Sansa no.”

“Maybe someone should.” Despite her previous rudeness upon seeing him, she sat next to him.

“I understand you changed your mind,” Jon said, eyeing her.

“I didn’t change my mind, I bought myself time.”

“So you can try to wiggle your way out of having responsibility?”

Instead of the deathly stare he expected, she arched a brow at him.

“So I don’t have to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The bartender came around and took her attention away.

“A Braavosi Apple Martini and a Dragon’s Blood.”

“Cocktails? You were drinking stronger stuff last night.”

“I’m here with Missandei and I’m banned from drinking in public.”

“Whatever you say,” he smirked.

He knew what game he was playing. It was how he got Theon to do anything stupid. Jon didn’t want Daenerys to embarrass herself but their love of liquor was the only thing they had in common.

“You don’t know anything about me,” she sneered.

“No, but I’ve heard plenty.”

Her jaw tightened and she lengthened her neck. Jon learned quickly that it was her little way of gathering confidence, preparing for battle.

“Fine,” she declared and reached over the bar, “If that’s how you want to play it.”

She slammed down two shot glasses. The bartender came over with her previous order and she demanded a bottle of Crown Royal.

He knew he should’ve stayed away from the alcohol, it never ended well, but the princess was a challenge he was determined to beat.

“Let’s turn it into a game. We make assumptions about each other. For each one you get right, I take a shot and vice versa.”

“I have to warn you, I’m very good at reading people.”

“Unfortunately for you, I’m impossible to read.”

Jon shook his head, no one was impossible to read. Bastards had to learn to notice things and that aspect of his nature was honed during his military time.

“Ladies first,” he offered, sliding his original glass out of the way.

She narrowed her violet eyes at him, scanning his face.

“Your best friend is your brother.”

Jon took the shot then considered Daenerys as she refilled his glass.

“You’ve played this game before.”

“That’s obvious,” she pointed out, the edge of the glass hovering in front of her lips.

The nude shade she wore was soft and inviting unlike the vicious red of the night before. Jon found himself watching as they parted into a smirk before taking her shot.

“You smoke. You told everyone you quit but you still do it.”

Jon took his shot.

“How the fuck did you know that?”

“When you gave me your jacket last night.” she reached into her bag and slid the pack across the bar. “You left your pack in the pocket.”

“And you’ve been carrying it around with you?”

She shrugged, “There might be a couple missing. Your turn.”

A few shots later, Missandei came over to see what was taking Dany so long. She saw them together and simply grabbed her drink and told Jon to keep an eye on her.

“You joined the military because you felt like you had something to prove.” she stated.

Jon couldn’t refuse her and took the shot. The previous assumptions were light, simple things that barely scratched the surface of a person, but Daenerys made it clear that she wanted to move on. She had ripped away the skin and was ready to tear into the meat of her prey. 

“You ran off to college to escape your family.”

“And this dreadful city,” she added before tipping back the glass.

“Your father is the reason for your discharge from the military, not an accident, like your profile said.”

Shot. It was only half true.

“You’ve been with more than three people.”

Shot.

“You’ve never been with anyone.”

He allowed himself a stupid smirk as her eyes shifted from the shi\ot glass to him.

“Am I wrong?”

 “Yes.”

She looked at him as though she didn’t believe it before reaching over the bar and taking the shot for him. 

“For getting one wrong,” she excused.

As they carried Jon felt the pressure building in his head as he tried to come up with something.

“Your relationship with the Dothraki Khal was much deeper than people know.”

Her jaw ticked as the words left his mouth. She furiously threw the shot back, setting the glass down with more effort than needed. He’d really struck a nerve. He should’ve backed off and sober him would’ve but the alcohol made him bolder. It blurred the lines between the self he presented and the one that looked at the world through a bitter lens.

They continued, the world blurred around the edges but both of them were determined to get the other to quit. Especially Daenerys. 

“You hate me.”

Gone was the diplomacy and tact. She was messy, trying to get as many hits on him as she could, trying to get him where it hurt. Jon thought he saw how ruthless she could be last night but she proved herself to be even more devastating now.

He clasped his hand around the shot glass but when it came time to take it, he paused. He wanted to take the shot, to throw it in her face that she didn’t phase him and her little games were pointless, but something deep in his mind stopped him. 

She took note of his hesitation, “Well?”

The smug look on her face was all it took. Before he could second guess it, the liquor was sliding down his throat. He found comfort in the way it burned. 

“Good because I can’t stand you either.”

He didn’t need to think hard on what he would say to her, he’d figured it out last night. 

“You’re in love with that Tyrohsi millionaire- what was his name? Daario Naharis?”

From the way her eyes widened Jon knew he caught her off guard. The corner of her mouth twitched like she wanted to say something, but she snatched up the glass and downed her shot.

She slapped money down on the counter for their alcohol and leaned in close, “Don’t ever say that name again.”

 “I thought you didn’t get attached.”

She released a bitter laugh, “I don’t usually. But I’m a woman and we’re known to get too emotionally involved. The press has been profiting off of that my whole life.”

“If you weren’t so public with your exploits, the media wouldn’t have so much stake in your life.”

“Let’s think about this critically for a moment. If you were to exhibit the same behaviors-”

“I wouldn’t-”

“Don’t interrupt me,” she snapped.

Jon didn’t think the look in her eyes could turn any more venomous but it did.

“If you were to do the same things, people wouldn’t bat an eye because you’re a man. I don’t care what higher moral authority you think you have but don’t assume for one second that makes you better than me. If the roles were reversed, your reputation wouldn’t be affected at all.”

“That’s where you're wrong,” Jon corrected.

“Oh really? Explain it to me.”

“I was born a bastard. When I was legitimized that title didn’t go away, it was put under a magnifying glass. If I stepped out of line there would be more than whispers in the court. It’s not only my reputation on the line, it’s my family’s.”

He stopped himself before he could mention the underlying tensions with the other high lords. That was deeper than he needed to go. And there was no need to discuss private matters of state with a woman who could care less.

She was quiet in that contemplative way when people thought things over. Jon was reminded of last night, when his outburst led to her reconsideration of the marriage contract. That same night he realized he was the only person who had ever told her off. She could’ve used that during their meeting to free herself from the arrangement but she didn’t. Not for the first time did Jon wonder what was going on in that pretty, stubborn head of hers.

“Do you think I have a higher moral authority now?”

“No. But I’m not one to ignore the pressures and restrictions monarchy puts on us. Let’s call it a truce. At least until you give me another reason for an alcohol fueled confrontation.”

She held her Dragon’s Blood cocktail up, her face betraying no emotion. Not even a smile at their hastily made peace. He clinked her glass with his empty one. She retreated to the dance floor where her friend was, surprisingly sturdy on her high heels with the alcohol she’d consumed. Then again, she boasted about her ability to hold liquor. 

He had no interest in joining the mass of bodies and heat that was the dance floor. He preferred to observe what kind of foolishness took place.

Sansa danced near the edge of the floor, Robb kept an eye on her from outside the commotion. He was usually in the middle of it all but Talisa gave him quite the talk before they left. It was a good thing Robb was taking it seriously. Jon liked having Talisa around.

One of the spotlights blazed across the crowd and Jon’s eyes followed. When they landed on the braided, white-blonde hair of Princess Daenerys, he didn’t look away. She mouthed the words to the song with her eyes closed, head thrown back and body moving with the beat. The track ended and as the crowd on the floor responded to the DJ, she looked dead at Jon. A new bassline rumbled through the club and she was leaving.  For the second time that day, she was storming out because of Jon.

[dogbearinggifts]

Beauty in the Mundane Prologue: The End.

Umbrella Academy

Author’s Note: A fic based on this post by @scotty-the-t-rex. Your petition to have Hazel and Agnes adopt the Hargreeves kids has been answered, my friend.

This fic is also available on AO3.  

*********

1997 

The world was over. 

Hazel couldn’t hang onto the thought for long. If he pondered it for more than a few seconds, if he stopped and thought about all the cities and towns and plains and people who were now gone, his head spun the way it did when he drank too much and all four shots hit him at once. 

It wasn’t over yet, not in the year he and Agnes had jumped to. Late autumn, 1997 had seemed as good a place as any to seek refuge—not so far from the present they’d left to make their clothes stand out and their money unrecognizable, not so close that the apocalypse would loom over everything they did. The year held little significance aside from its status as a rest stop, a place to pause and breathe the air of a planet not yet engulfed in flame and ash. 

Knowing it was coming, knowing he had a means of escape, hadn’t made the brief glimpse he’d gotten any easier to bear. 

Agnes hadn’t gone far. She’d found a seat on a flattened rock close to the creek, the sort graduating seniors and happy young couples liked to use for yearbook and engagement photos, if the shows he’d watched were any reflection of reality. She’d adopted the same pose, too—back straight, hands on her knees, head turned slightly to stare out at the water. 

For a moment, Hazel simply watched her, watched a cold breeze lift strands of greying blonde hair, watched it bat them around before letting them fall back to her shoulders. The serenity about her, the calm lent by her pose and the breeze and the dappled sunlight across her back—it was an illusion, he knew. Reality had taken a minute or two to hit, but when it did, it seemed enough to knock her flat. Part of him wanted to let her be, but another part couldn’t leave her alone. Not again. 

Her glance toward him was brief, but not so brief he missed the mingled weariness and despair behind it. 

Hazel eased onto the rock beside her. The creek bubbled along, dashing over rocks and mud. How long it had been since he’d sat and listened to that particular melody, he couldn’t say. 

“Are you sure there’s nothing we could do?” 

Hazel bit his lip. In the past, he’d have pushed the guilt aside, found some distraction from it—but maybe that wasn’t how things ought to be done.

“Not with the time we had,” he said after a pause. “We were lucky to get out when we did.” 

“Maybe we could go back.” 

“Go back to what? Whole damn world’s destroyed.” 

“It can’t just….end like that.” Agnes turned, not quite facing him, but closer to it than she had been. “We can go back a—a little earlier, and maybe we can fix it.”

“How?” 

“Just find the point where everything went wrong, and then set it right. I don’t know, there—there’s got to be something.”  

Protect Vanya Hargreeves. 

That was the assignment. Keep Vanya Hargreeves from harm. Vanya was there to end the world, Hazel was there to make sure she didn’t run into any trouble along the way. Ensure the bomb went off as intended, hope he wouldn’t notice he too would be caught in the blast. 

She was where everything had gone wrong. 

This was supposed to happen. 

He’d rejected that answer. Fought it. Ignored it. Worked around it, when the battle proved fruitless. It should have left his head already, but that old excuse still bubbled up. Hazel couldn’t see the logic in it, but then, he’d never tried to see it. He’d simply done as he was told, done it well, and moved on. Onto the next job, the next killing, the next body left in a motel or a bedroom or the middle of the street. 

But he wasn’t with the Commission anymore. He was with Agnes, and Agnes wouldn’t sit by knowing the world would end in twenty-two years. 

“Maybe we could jump back a little more. Little further from the end.” 

“What would that do?” 

There was more than simple curiosity in those words, and Hazel knew before he spoke that he’d chosen the wrong train of thought to follow. “I dunno. Give us more time, I guess.” 

“We’d have more time, but what about everyone else?” 

Definitely the wrong train. 

“They—” She turned more, facing him, but he didn’t move. “Hazel! All of those people are going to die in twenty-two years, and you’re just gonna let them?”

“I just don’t see what we can do, all right?” He looked up, but didn’t quite meet her gaze. “Commission wanted the world to end, and they got their wish. They’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way.” 

“But that lady, the one in charge—she’s dead. You killed her.” 

“She’s replaceable.” Those scars crisscrossing her skin made him wonder just how replaceable, but he wasn’t keen to learn for himself. “Now that she’s gone, they’ll just find somebody else to step in and do what she did.” 

Agnes lapsed into silence. A bird chirped from the branches above, but she made no move to look toward it. 

“She said to protect Vanya Hargreeves.” 

“Yep.” 

“Well, if Vanya’s the one who—you know, the one who did it? Maybe we could talk to her. Try and get her to—I don’t know, do something else?” 

“Probably not possible, way she was.” Blank expression. Colorless eyes. Striding through the streets with a violin case in her hand. Hazel had seen worse, caused worse, but he already knew that particular sight would pay frequent visits to his nightmares. 

“So we go back earlier. A couple of days, or a couple of weeks.” 

“Don’t think that’d be enough.” 

“I knew her, Hazel. She and her brothers and her sister—they’d come into my donut shop late at night, buy all the donuts they could. Start wolfing ‘em down before I could even make change. She was quiet. Shy. Come along behind the rest of ‘em like she didn’t know if she was allowed to be there.” Agnes bit her lip. “Whatever she did when the world ended, that wasn’t her.” 

A number of childhood visits to a donut shop didn’t strike him as quite enough to say you’d known a person, but then, Hazel didn’t have thirty years of customer service under his belt. Maybe those years had taught Agnes to see things he couldn’t. “She was a kid then. People grow up, change.” 

“Not like that. Something went wrong. Very wrong.” 

It had never been his job to think too deeply about the whys of things. Worker bees weren’t paid to think, they were paid to follow orders, do what needed done. A part of him, a voice that sounded an awful lot like the Handler, told him it still wasn’t his job. The apocalypse had gone off without a hitch. The world was over. All that was left was to find a peaceful spot somewhere in history and settle down as best they could. 

“What do you think it was?” 

“I think it was their dad.” 

Hazel met her gaze this time. Her answer had come with no hesitation, no forethought, as though she’d landed on it years before. 

“She wrote a book, you know. Vanya did. Everybody read it, everyone. And the things he’d do to them? To those poor kids?” She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “God. Breaks my heart just thinking about it.” 

“They’re a real friggin’ mess.” Hazel hadn’t put much thought into those words back when Cha-Cha said them. He’d heard them, of course, added them to his strategy, but he hadn’t paused to think why they were a mess or what that mattered in the grand scheme of things. Hadn’t put them together with Five’s words about his brother or the other emotionally stunted man-children—his words—he’d returned to. 

“You really think that Hargreeves guy screwed ‘em up that badly?” 

“I do.” She sighed again. “I just—I didn’t know back then, but if I did? I’d have taken ‘em right out of that house. Adopted ‘em myself if I had to.” 

Maybe that was a hint, maybe it wasn’t. It seemed a little too heartfelt, a little too sincere to be one, and Hazel hadn’t ever explained the fuzziness of time travel to her in detail anyway. He could very well leave her to think that their childhoods were beyond alterations, let her believe that their timeframe in which to change course was far narrower than it was. Maybe she’d realize the lie one day. She probably would realize it one day. But if ducking the Commission meant denying Agnes her peace of mind, then….

Hazel couldn’t bring himself to finish that thought. 

“You know when they were born?” 

“Yes. October First, 1989. All at the same time—I remember that part. It was all over the news for weeks.” 

“So they’d be—what? Eight now?” 

“I think so.” She paused. “Are you...?” 

He sighed. “Look. I don’t know if getting ‘em away from their dad would change what happens. Maybe they’ll grow up to be just fine and the world’ll get hit by an asteroid or a nuke or something. Lot of shit can happen between now and then.” 

“But?” 

Instinct, honed by years with the Commission and approved by their policies, urged him to drop the subject. Change it, follow it to any conclusion beside the one he’d set a course for. But Agnes was here, and Agnes wouldn’t want him to go that way, so he drew a breath. He had to say it now, before he had time to talk himself out of it. 

“But if you want to give ‘em a chance to grow up normal, this year’s as good as any.” 

*********

Chapter One

[foxyninjabear]

A Hacker’s Tale - Chapter 3

[CHAPTER ONE] [CHAPTER TWO]

(Also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!)

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!: This fic is rated as PG-14+, so read at your own risk! There’s swearsies, suggestive references, and LOTS of blood and gore! Be aware!

________________________________________________

Angel

It was the sound of screams and loud gunfire that made Angel whip her head away from the hostages. 

“What in the name of...?!” She sprung up from the crate she was sitting on. Her long, powerful rifle was gripped tightly in both her hands, ready to be fired at any moment.

Many others in the room had the same reaction. Most of the captives let out some sort of shriek, huddling closer to each other out of fear. The hackers let out surprised exclamations, before following Angel’s lead and equipping their weapons.

“The hell was that?!” Grey demanded, pistol in hand and pointed at the door.

“Whatycha think they were, dumbass?!” Coda sassed her former mentor back, grasping her own battle axe firmly. “They’re fucking shotgun blasts!”

“You think those three got caught?” Synth asked, his assault rifle in hand.

“No shit, sherlock!”

But as everyone was silent and continued to yell, Angel was quiet. Quiet out of the guilt that something terrible might have been happening to the soldiers under her command. She had to do something. 

“Stay here.” She ordered, dashing towards the iron doors. “I’m going to find them. Do not let hostages escape.” Before anyone could say anything, she burst through the doors and slammed them behind her as she entered the hallway. 

She sent them out there on their own. And she was going to get every single one of them back.

Angel activated a flight hack and sprung off the floor to hover, before racing down the winding corridors. Her gaze was locked straight forward as she sped through the air. She zipped around tight turns, dodged massive crates that obstructed her flight path, narrowly avoided running into countless walls-

The gunshots suddenly ceased, filling the halls with a dreadful silence. A part of her mind raced and buzzed. Were her soldiers okay? Had they fended the threat off? Had they failed?

And then she made one final twist around a corner and came upon the sight she was more than happy to see. Sakura and Lucky were both being shielded behind Jazz, who had his shotgun pointed down a separate corridor branching off of the main hallway.

The mechanic soon caught sight of her, and her brown eyes widened. “Ma’am!” She called out and waved her mechanical arm frantically. “You came!”

Angel let out an internal sigh of relief at the sight of the trio. Every single one was alive. “You three alright?” She questioned, glancing around at the three soldiers as she reached them and lowered herself to the floor.

Jazz groaned and rolled his shoulder. “Yes, ma’am… we’re fine,” He gestured to a spot a couple meters away, down the smaller hallway. “Can’t say the same for him though.”

The taller woman glanced over to where her colleague was pointing. Sprawled out face down on the floor was what appeared to be a humanoid robot, a shattered crossbow and bolts nearby. Several large dents ran up and down the droid’s back and legs. They could easily be presumed to be from Jazz’s shotgun blasts, due to the fact that dozens of the pellets were embedded into the steel. It could also be assumed that the robot was no longer functional, for it was still and silent.

However, as Angel approached and bent her knees to get a closer look, the ‘robot’ let out a too human groan of pain and shifted itself. Enough so to where its face could be seen. And the sniper immediately recognized who it was, and he wasn’t any robot. Cyborg, maybe, but no robot. It was Biffa2001, one of HermitCraft’s residents Lucky had marked as potentially hostile, due to his former military status. A large bruise was beginning to form on his cheek, presumably from him collapsing to the ground.

She could see Sakura stepping up to her out of the corner of her eye. “And ma’am, there’s something important that-”

“What’s important is that you three are unharmed.” Angel answered, standing back up to her full height. She glanced back to the three soldiers. “Now, we need to-”

“But ma’am, he called for backup!” Sakura stated, cutting off Angel. “Forgive me for interrupting, but our cover’s been compromised!”

The sniper stopped at the mechanic’s words. Compromised? He managed to contact the others? "What? Are you positive?" She asked, her tone beginning to reveal some anger within her.

The brunette gave a hasty nod. "Yes, ma'am!" She quickly answered, obviously panicked. "They said they were on their way!"

“Now?”

“Now!”

Angel felt the annoyance bubbling in her chest transform into extreme frustration. First it was finding out there were potential threats in the World, then it was nearly getting torn to shreds by a massive worm, and now it was having their locations and cover being blown! Everything just had to go wrong that day, didn’t it? What was going to be next?

But instead of expressing her internal fury, she kept it hidden and took a deep breath. “Alright… listen up. All of you.” She spoke loud enough to get everyone’s eyes on her. “We need to get back to the rest of the team and make a plan. Fast.” Just as she pivoted and was about to teleport, she turned to look over at Jazz, before gesturing to Biffa on the floor. “Oh, and bring him with us. We’re putting him with the others.”

Jazz gave Angel an immediate nod, before bending his knees to pick up the unconscious cyborg in his arms. When he stood up once again, however, he wobbled a bit and tried to stabilize himself. “Holy shit, this guy’s heavy!”

“H-He’s mostly metal…” Lucky said. “W-What’d you expect...?” 

“Lucky, Jazz. Now.” The sniper repeated her command, giving an icy glare to the two brothers.

The soldiers both fell silent, but each gave her a nod. Now satisfied, Angel turned around and quickly teleported back to the room where her byte and the hostages resided, Sakura, Jazz, Lucky, and Biffa right behind her. Once she opened the door and walked inside, however, she was greeted with an… interesting sight.

Everybody was still there, which was a relief, but now several boxes were either opened or toppled over, their contents spilling out onto the floor. In the center of it all, Coda was laughing as she strapped a mask of a chicken face over her head, before putting on a brown hat and trenchcoat over her armor. Several other costumes and outfits were strewn about, from a tattered black robe paired with a plastic scythe to a blue captain’s uniform and hat. Of course she was going through the crates… 

“Hold on, Synth, how’s this one?” The creeper asked, looking over at her fellow Infantry soldier. She appeared to not have noticed Angel enter, either. “Whatcha think this one’s supposed to be?” She struck a pose, tipping her newly acquired fedora at the hostages, despite their obvious mix of confusion and fear. 

Synth chuckled. “A detective, maybe?” He was about to say something else, but his grey eyes landed on Angel. “...I think you have a new audience.”

“Huh?” Coda then turned around, and came face to face with the sniper. “Holy shit-”

Angel shoved Coda aside as she led Jazz, Lucky, and Sakura back into the storage room. “No time to talk.” She said quickly, before snatching a stray iron rod from one of the stray crates. “We’re getting out of here, our cover has been blown.”

Coda lifted the chicken mask off her face to show her confused expression. “Wait, what? We’ve been found?!”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

The whole room fell deadly silent at Angel’s curse. She knew she had to just try and make it a bit longer without her patience snapping in two. She took a breath, and spoke again.“Yes, our location’s been compromised. We need to move.” Her gaze then landed on Jazz, who was still carrying the unconscious Biffa. “And remember, leave him here. He’s not getting up anytime soon.”

The soldier nodded at his leader’s order, and set Biffa on the ground next to the other hostages, who were all wide eyed and panicked. “Don’t worry… he’ll live.” Jazz said calmly. “...probably.”

One of the hostages, Stress, let out a shaky gasp. “P-Probably…?” She asked.

Angel glanced down at the cyborg. He was in a pretty critical condition… he took several shotgun hits, after all. Even though his armor and cybernetics shield him from most of the damage, perhaps healing him would be a wise choice. “Nix,” She stated out, turning over to the young medic next to Grey. “Heal him up, would you? We can’t have a recruit dying on us.”

The teen’s expression was one of surprise, but he gave the woman a nod and walked over to the group of five captives. Most scooted away as he approached, but one tried to get in between him and Biffa, despite his arm being broken. Doc.

“Get away from him!” He growled, hissing in pain from his severe wound. “You think we’re just going to trust you?! After what you’ve done?!”

Angel frowned more, and took a slow step towards him. “If we wanted to kill you all...we would have done so already.”

Doc was about to speak again, but somebody else beat him to it. “Doc, please…!” Scar cried out, his green eyes filled with desperation and worry. “She’s right! If we don’t get Biffa some help, he’s not gonna make it!” 

The scientist fell silent. He looked down at his friend on the floor, closed his mismatched eyes, and let out a sigh. “Fine.” He answered reluctantly. “But if you try and do something other than helping, I will send a sword through your gut-”

“I rather doubt that,” Angel replied, taking another stride closer, close enough to where she was towering over his restrained figure. “Unless you can somehow break out of those cuffs… you’re not going anywhere.” She glanced down back at Nix. “You can continue, Nix.”

Nix looked up at his superior and gave her a nod. Kneeling down next to Biffa, he then held his hand outwards, and a small mass of glitching pink and red pixels began to form. He carefully pressed his palm against the cyborg’s forehead, and the wounds on his head and body began to fade away. After mere seconds, only a few small scars remained. Even the dents in his plated armor had disappeared.

Grey let out a chuckle. “I told you he was good for his age, eh?”

Angel gave a nod. “I will admit… I’m impressed.” She replied. The boy was quite talented, given he was fresh out of his training. “But we don’t have time to praise. We need to move. Now.” She tilted her head towards the door.

Many of the hackers nodded or saluted, and began to walk out of the room, Angel leading them. But as Coda shut the door behind them all, the sniper remembered something; the rusting iron bar in her hand.  “Oh, and Coda?”

The creeper snapped her dark gaze to meet the sniper’s. “Hmm?” She raised an eyebrow, before blinking in realization of who had said her name. “M-ma’am?”

Unfazed by (and somewhat accustomed to) her flustered reaction, Angel then tossed the metal rod in her hands over to the soldier. “Make sure they don’t get out.”

Coda caught the iron bar with ease, and after a mere moment of her obvious confusion, a wide grin spread across her scaled face. "Yes ma'am." She answered and gave a salute. Cracking her knuckles, she immediately followed the order and, grasping the bar, twisted it with ease around the door handles, barricading the four hostages inside.

‘H-hey…!” One of the captives, Impulse, cried out as he saw the creeper render the only exit useless. He stumbled to his feet and sped towards the door, trying not to trip from the lack of balance due to his hands being cuffed behind his back. “Don’t lock us in here!”

“Too bad,” Coda replied, before letting out a small chuckle. “Can’t have the merchandise wandering ‘round, y’hear? ”

Impulse ignored the snide remark. “Just let us go!!” He begged, brown eyes pleading. “We’ll give you anything you want… just don’t hurt anybody else, please!”

Angel locked her single eye on the man, gaze cold and empty. “Like we told you all before…” She started, leaning closer to the small window in the door. “If you cooperate, you live. And if you don’t, you die. It’s your choice.” She pulled away and waved her hand to signal that it was time to go. “Now, move out everyone.”

“No, wait, please…! Hey!”

She led the group of hackers down the winding hallways, ignoring the continuous cries and pleads from the hostages. Over sixteen years of experience helped quite a bit with that. It may have been such a horrid sound, but the further they went, the more it faded into undetectable echoes.

Soon, everyone was at the bottom of the staircase leading up to the bunker’s exit. Unfamiliar voices could be faintly heard from outside.  “Remember what I said before!” Angel turned back to face the soldiers under her command. “Capture who you can… take out the rest. We want as many recruits as possible. Am I clear?”

Everyone nodded and gave a salute, a few throwing in a “Yes ma’am,” as a reply. 

“Good.” She then took her helmet and slipped it onto her head. “Now, move out, and keep your head on a swivel.”

She pivoted herself to face the stairs again, before beginning her speedy ascent, her byte in tow. It was time to spread her wings and take to the skies, to live up to her name as a songbird, a nightingale. Her instrument of choice? A thunderous hail of bullets from above.

~~~~~

In just the span of ten minutes, Angel and her team had managed to take down and apprehend nearly a dozen more W.E.S. operatives. Thankfully, not all of them came at the same time. It was more of a slow trickle of people rather than a flood. Although quite a few were injured in some manner, ranging from concussions to full on gunshot wounds, they were easily healed up by either Nix or Grey, before being handcuffed and teleported down into the storage bunker. Things were going much better than expected; Angel predicted that they’d be done with the skirmish in the next fifteen to twenty minutes. Then it was a matter of securing the World and getting it wrapped in the Shadowbyte Army’s clutches.

At that moment, Angel was zooming through the air, peering through the scope of her rifle at two figures down on the ground below. One, a blonde man in a dark grey vest, was running alongside a shorter man with unruly brown hair wearing a dull green hoodie (which she found somewhat odd, given the blazing summer heat). The blonde she didn’t recognize, but the moment the brunette looked over his shoulder and caught sight of her flying, she knew who he was when she saw the cybernetic eye in place of one of his natural ones. Iskall85. Former military sergeant, and lethal in hand to hand combat.

She knew where to spend her next bullet. 

It didn’t faze Angel when Iskall immediately grabbed the unknown blonde’s hand and ran faster across the field. He had seen her, after all, circling the skies like a hawk searching for prey. But he could only run so fast and so far. And she could take her sweet time, if she wanted… but she wasn’t one for laziness.

So with one pull of her trigger, she fired at the brunette and sent him sprawling onto the dirt. 

The sniper pressed the side of her helmet to activate her earpiece. “This is Nightingale to Patient Zero, Hound, and Profit,” She started, keeping her focus on the two men. Immediately after Iskall fell, the blonde skid to a halt and rushed to his side. “I’ve got another takedown, just south of the compound. One has a gunshot wound to the leg…” She stopped for a moment to take another shot, which sent the blonde man to the ground as well. “The other has one to the shoulder.”

Not a moment later, she heard Grey’s voice crackle over the intercom. “Hear you loud and clear, ma’am,” He answered. “Patient Zero’s on his way now.” “Good. And Profit?”

Another voice sounded. Lucky’s. “Y-yes ma’am.” He said, almost sounding as if he were caught by surprise. “I-I’m also on my way.”

“Perfect. Now, you know the drill. Restrain them, and once they’ve been healed, take them down to the bunker.”

“O-of course, ma’am!” Lucky replied.

“Excellent,” Angel soon saw two figures appear next to Iskall and the blonde. Lucky and Nix. “I have visual on you and Patient Zero. You have it handled?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good.” The hacker finally turned her focus away from the two W.E.S. operatives and flew off. “This is Nightingale, over and out.” She darted her gaze over the field, rifle at the ready. If her memory served her correctly, there were only seven more to find and capture.

And one immediately caught her attention. Because they nearly hit Angel in the leg with a crossbow bolt.

Thankfully, Angel had noticed the missile soon enough to teleport out of the way. As she looked at the ground to figure out who had shot it, her eye landed on a young blonde woman, a pair of goggles perched atop her head. A large crossbow was clutched in her hands, and it was lined up at her to take another shot.

Not if her gun had anything to say about it. Before the woman could send another bolt flying, the sniper simply whipped out her rifle and returned fire. A split second later, she saw the crossbow shatter into pieces and scatter onto the dirt.

However, instead of immediately trying to finish the job, Angel stayed put and glanced through her scope. She got a clearer look at her opponent’s face, and she recognized her as the one and only FalseSymmetry. The famous former military commander, showered with praise for her bravery and valour.

Now she really caught her attention.

The hacker decided to fly closer to the blonde, somewhat curious of what would happen next. As she glided closer to the ground, she saw the woman quickly unsheath an iron sword from her belt.

Vigilant and quick to react. Not bad.

Angel eventually got close enough to False to where she could hear her. She wanted to see if she could continue to fight, see that she was outmatched by a landslide, in terms of weaponry and equipment. Not to mention Angel’s hacks gave her an overwhelming advantage.

“Hello there, Miss Symmetry,” The hacker greeted as she hovered about six meters above the ground. “That was a nice shot you made… especially for how slow crossbow bolts are against guns.”

False gave Angel an angry glare, her iron sword poised. “What do you want?” She wasn’t taking the bait.

The soldier calmly replaced the rifle in her hands with her metal staff. “For you to cooperate.” She stated, allowing herself to descend and gently plant her feet on the grass. “We can do this the easy way, where you surrender peacefully-”

The blonde shook her head and cut her off. “Not a chance.” She pointed her blade at the taller woman. “I’m not just going to give in that easily!”

Angel wasn’t exactly surprised at False’s decision, despite knowing so little about her other than her military experience. She was used to receiving sass and insubordination, anyhow, from allies and enemies alike. She gripped her staff tighter, knowing what was about to happen next. “The hard way it is, then.” 

A moment of tense silence ensued. Neither woman said anything more, neither moved, neither broke eye contact. Only the sounds of other brawls, chaos, and gunfire accompanied them. It was as if time was at a standstill, like the universe had stopped just for that moment…

And then False charged forwards, before slashing her blade.

Angel swiftly dodged the attempted strike with a long stride to the side. A bit of a messy swing, but it could have been worse. She took her own staff and made a low sweep at her opponents ankles. But she was pleasantly surprised when the blonde jumped upwards just as the metal pole was about to knock her off her feet.

False wasn’t half bad. More than that, even. Perhaps she would make a good soldier in the Army… if she wanted to get out of this alive, that is.

The hacker kept her thoughts to herself, however. She wanted to see what else the former commander could do, to see if her skills from her previous career were still decent. So she took a step back, opening some space between her and her opponent, before teleporting behind her in a flash of pixels and swinging her staff. And the blonde surprised her once more as she spun around and held up her sword to block the blow, causing sparks to shower around the two of them.

Now things looked promising. Her reflexes were fantastic, she was aware of everything going on around her. It was obvious that her combat abilities weren’t hindered in the slightest. 

But of course, Angel knew that she shouldn’t waste too much time, so she immediately decided to end the brawl and take the upper hand. Before False could react, the hacker lunged back and harshly planted her foot against her chest.

The blonde stumbled back from the force of her kick, giving Angel the opportunity to lunge and make a final swing at her opponent with her staff. A loud THWACK sounded as metal collided with the side of her head, and the woman was knocked completely off her feet, slamming onto the ground unconscious.

Now she knew for certain that False was soldier material. It was only a matter of time until-

“GO LONG, TOOTHPICK!”

Angel’s posture went rigid. It was Coda. What was she doing this time?

She glanced over her shoulder, and saw three people coming her way. One was, of course, Coda, who was running along the ground and looking up at the sky. Grey wasn’t too far behind her, flying and almost struggling to keep up. The third person was a younger man with raven hair and a notably large (almost cartoonish) mustache, who she recognized as the redstone prodigy and multimillionaire, Mumbo Jumbo. But to Angel’s surprise, he was being flung back and forth through the air like a ragdoll, courtesy of Coda using telekinetic hacks.

Why wasn’t she surprised?

Just as the creeper and medic were running past her, Angel spoke angrily. “Coda!” She ordered, stamping her foot into the earth. “Put him down. Now.”

Coda skidded herself to a halt as she heard her name, just after flinging Mumbo straight upwards into the sky. “Aw, c’mon! It’s fun!” After a moment of her superior’s silence, however, she huffed, sagging her shoulders. “Fine, Boss,” Just as the screaming and falling Mumbo was about to slam into the ground, she then flicked her hand in the air. The young man’s tall and lanky figure immediately slowed down to a halt, leaving him hovering just a meter or two above the dirt, dangling by only one ankle.

“Wha… huh…?” Mumbo cracked open an eye, before patting himself all over. “I’m alive…?” 

“You thought I was gonna kill ya, pipecleaner?” Coda asked, leaning closer to his face.

The ravenhead tried to lean away as she got closer, but only succeeding in making himself sway in midair. “U-uhhh…!”

“Okay, that’s enough, Coda,” Grey stated to the younger soldier, breathing heavily. He had finally managed to catch up to his former pupil. “Just leave the kid alone. We don’t want to traumatize another recruit.”

Mumbo blinked, his already pasty skin becoming paler. “R...recruit…?” He asked, his brown eyes wide with fear. “What are you talking about?”

Coda’s eyes showed a spark of excitement, before she brought him into a headlock with one arm. “Why, you’re comin’ with us, toothpick!” She declared. “You get to be one of us!”

“Only if he accepts,” Angel spoke out, not caring that she sounded impatient. “But if he wants to live, he will have to enlist.”

“Hmm…” Coda leaned closer to Mumbo again, as if inspecting him. “He’s not who I’d pick for soldier material…” She was silent for a moment, only to then shrug and let out a chuckle. “But hey, he’s kinda cute… a bit on the pale’n’lanky side, but cute.” She stretched out a hand to tap him on the nose with her finger. “At the very least, he can be useful in the Engineering Div-”

A loud PANG sounded, followed by Grey suddenly getting knocked to the ground, out cold. 

“Wh- Grey!” Coda let out a shriek, and the telekinetic hack she was using disappeared with his consciousness. But with how she didn’t even bother to reactivate it to stop Mumbo from falling, it was obvious that she didn't care if he got hurt. She didn’t even say anything as the younger man let out a panicked cry and slammed into the ground with a harsh thud. “What the fuck?!”

Angel jumped in surprise, before whipping out her rifle and locking her gaze on where Grey was just knocked out cold. For a split second, she noticed nothing, but soon saw two unmoving imprints on the grass. Boots.

Her brows furrowed, and she pointed her gun right where she presumed the person would be. “Show yourself now. I know you’re there.” She demanded, continuing to glare daggers off into the seemingly empty air.

For a few seconds, the sniper was faced with nothing but silence. It wasn’t until, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Coda roughly pulling Mumbo off the ground that something happened. A male’s panicked voice, slightly muffled.

“Alright, alright! Just don’t hurt him! The potion needs to wear off...”

Angel was pleased with the response. After a moment of shuffling, a figure slowly began to fade into her line of sight. A man slightly taller than her, donning a sleek set of emerald green body armor, along with a grey helmet similar in style to the one she was wearing. In his gloved hands was False’s sword, gripped by the steel blade. He must have used the hilt as a club to knock Grey unconscious. After a split second of thought, she soon recognized him, remembering his face from the lineup of HermitCraft’s members.

Xisumavoid.

“Hey, you!” Coda hissed at the man, and balled up the back of Mumbo’s shirt in her fist. “This your fucking buddy?!” She then whipped out a pistol and jammed it against the side of his head, finger on the trigger.

“O-oh my word…!” Mumbo let out a terrified shriek, and he froze where he stood.

Xisuma’s eyes went large as he saw the gun trained on his colleague, not even focused on Angel anymore. This surprised her. If anything, she presumed he would be more focused on the large rifle aimed right at his own head. “Please, just let him go! All I want to do is talk!”

“Let this pipecleaner go? Fat fucking chance-”

“Coda!”

Angel locked her one eyed gaze with the creeper, glaring daggers. Her patience with her was wearing extremely thin. “Watch. Your. Tongue.” She growled.

Coda fell silent, before letting out a huff. “Whatever y’say, Boss.”

The sniper sighed, and returned her focus to Xisuma. “We’ll give him to you… but you need to give us something in return.” She gestured to the sword gripped in his hands. “Go on. Toss it over.”

Xisuma’s worried eyes shifted to Mumbo, who was still shaking in fear from the gun against his head. A tense moment of silence passed. But then, without saying a word, he threw the sword on the ground at Coda’s feet.

“Good.” Angel answered, satisfied that somebody was following her orders. “Now, let him go Coda.” She looked over her shoulder to the soldier.

Coda gave a stiff nod. “Understood.” Removing the pistol from Mumbo’s head, she then shoved him forwards. He cried out and stumbled, but he quickly got to his feet and retreated behind Xisuma.

“X, what are you doing?!” The young man asked his colleague, visibly terrified of the situation. “These guys are dangerous!”

“I know,” Xisuma stated, and, to Angel’s satisfaction, raised his hands up in surrender. “Which is why I need you to get out of here.”

Mumbo blinked. “Wait, what?” He asked. “X, I can’t just leave you-”

The man in green armor snapped his visored gaze to the taller one behind him. “Mumbo, I said get out of here!”

Mumbo tried to speak, but once he glanced over at Angel and Coda again, he stopped himself. He gave Xisuma a terrified expression, as if silently begging him to not make him go.

“You heard’em, toothpick.” Coda growled, slinging her massive axe over her shoulder. “Run. Before we change our minds.”

Angel remained silent, but kept her icy gaze on the young man. After a seemingly long moment, their eyes locked, and once they did, his skin when from already pale to practically white, almost sickly. As if too afraid to see what would happen next, he glanced back at Xisuma with a fearful expression, before he turned and dashed away as fast as his feet could carry him.

The creeper cupped her hands around her mouth as she, Angel, and Xisuma watched Mumbo scamper off. “Run faster, chicken legs!” She called out. “Run like your fucking life depends on it-”

“Coda.” Angel made a cold, stern warning again. She swore that Coda was practically a child, she was so immature. Of course, she had plenty of experience dealing with both children and disrespectful soldiers, but that creeper was pushing her buttons like she was born to annoy. One minute, she’d be flustered at the mere sight of her, and the next, she’d be so defiant!

Coda fell silent, let out a huff, and crossed her arms. “Aight, Ma,” She groaned in annoyance, making her superior further approach the edge of her patience. Just breathe… 

The sniper locked her sharp gaze with Xisuma’s. “Well, you got your wish. Your friend is gone.” She lowered her rifle slightly. He wasn’t armed anymore, so the possibility of him being a threat wasn’t high. “Now… talk.”

Xisuma was quiet for a moment, before he cleared his throat. “I...I want to make a deal,” He said, hands still in the air. “I don’t want to fight you all… I don’t want anybody else getting hurt.” For a second, his eyes shifted to both Grey and False unconscious on the ground. “J-Just… hear me out. Please.”

Angel raised an eyebrow out of curiosity. A deal? She pursed her lips in thought. It was awfully bold (not to mention odd) of him to first incapacitate one of her soldiers, but then wanting to only negotiate instead of fight. As if he panicked and switched plans as the original was set in motion.

Before she could respond, however, Coda (unsurprisingly) stated her mind. “A deal?” She growled, before pointing to Grey passed out in the dirt. “You think I wanna make a damn fucking deal? After whatchya just did?!”

Xisuma kept his hands up, despite the threatening tone from Coda. "Please, just leave us alone!" He pleaded again. "We can just-”

He was cut off as the creeper swiftly scooped False’s sword from the ground, teleported in front of him, and shoved the iron blade right through his chest.

The man gasped and stumbled forwards the moment Coda pierced the sword through his abdomen, and was knocked back as the sword was drawn out. Dark red blood leaked out of the gaping wound and stained nearly his emerald green armor, before dripping onto the ground below. He coughed and croaked, almost stumbling to the earth. It was obvious that even with immediate medical attention, there was no way he would survive an attack that severe. Guess they were coming home with one less recruit.

But just as Angel was about to scold Coda for the impulsive decision, she immediately noticed something was off. As the staggering man clutched his seemingly fatal injury, the gushing blood suddenly became a mere trickle, and then the gash closed entirely, leaving nothing but a few crimson droplets behind. No average player could heal that quickly, even with the help of potions or any regeneration effect. And there wasn’t any sort of brew or beacon to be seen. Which could only mean one thing...

He was a hacker. And a powerful one, at that. Whether he used extremely effective healing hacks or a god-like invincibility hack, that man knew what he was doing. And it was apparent that he had been using them for a long time.

“Well then…” Angel then stated to Xisuma, letting a hint of genuine surprise slip into her words. Her grip on her rifle tightened. “Guess we have one of our own, hmm?”

The man in green armor coughed one last time, before clearing his throat. “So what if I’m a hacker? At least I don’t use my powers for my own gain…”

“Y’wanna bet on it?” Coda replied, sword poised and ready to strike once more. 

Xisuma wiped his bloody hand on his leg, leaving a crimson smear on the green plated armor. “I told you, I don’t want to fight!” He declared, holding his hands out and shaking his head. “We can both go our own ways. You leave us alone, and we’ll leave you alone!”

The creeper was silent for a moment, before she suddenly let out a burst of laughter. “Leave ya alone?” She cackled, clutching her stomach. “Holy shit, you’re hilarious! You think we’re just gonna fucking leave?”

The man blinked in confusion. It was obvious to Angel that he wasn’t expecting that sort of response. “W-well, yeah… we outnumber you all. There’s twenty two of us and only eight of you! I want to give you a chance to-”

Coda interrupted him with another chuckle. “Y’sure about your math there, buddy?” She taunted, eyes glinting with mischief. “It’s more like seven of you guys now… before y’got here, we’d already taken care of quite a few.”

Angel’s eye snapped to the creeper, her patience finally breaking. She knew that Coda’s impulsivity would get her into trouble. But it was too late to get her out of it now; Xisuma’s gaze had first widened, then filled with horror, and then filled with rage.

“You...you what?”

“You heard me, green bean.” The soldier said. “What’cha gonna do? Cry about it-”

Before she could finish her sentence, Xisuma then lunged at her, planting his fist right into her chest. To both Angel’s amazement and shock, Coda’s figure went flying across the field at the force of the punch, until she tumbled and skidded to a final halt. She didn’t make another move.

That single action let Angel know that this hacker was not going to surrender willingly. 

“CODA!!”

A louder voice rang out just after Coda landed. Synth. “YOU BASTARD!!” Soon, the Infantry soldier appeared out of the corner of Angel’s eye, sword drawn and ready to slash. For a moment, he glanced over at the woman. “I’ve got this, ma’am! Go get a medic!” 

As much as Angel wanted to stay and help, she knew that Coda needed medical attention immediately. No matter how annoying she thought she was, she wasn’t going to let her die. She wouldn’t break her oath over something as petty as a grudge. So she teleported all the way to where Coda landed and scooped her up in her arms as she activated her earpiece.

“This is Nightingale to Patient Zero!” She called out and began to run away from the fray. “I need a medic, STAT! Tiny Dancer’s in critical condition! I’m just southeast of the compound, hurry-” Her sentence was cut off as she saw two familiar figures in the distance; Lucky and Nix. “Hold on, I have a visual on you and Profit! I’m coming to you, stay put! Over and out!”

Angel activated a teleportation hack as she ran, instantly appearing right next to the two young soldiers. “Quick, we need to find a place to hide!” She ordered, ignoring their startled expressions and reactions to her sudden entrance. Her eye quickly darted around, and settled on a massive boulder near one of the high walls of the compound. That would have to do.

“You two, follow me!” The tall woman ran as fast as she could, before sliding along the ground to get behind the boulder, Nix and Lucky following suit. Even if their sliding was more of a tumble through the dirt. It was better than nothing. She laid Coda on the ground and positioned herself against the sheet of rock so she was closest to the corner, in the most vulnerable spot. She knew that the two other hackers wouldn’t last long if she had either of them take her place.

Lucky slammed his back up against the rockface, his panicked eyes barely visible through his grime-caked visor. “H-h-how is that guy so strong?!” He cried out, his breathing labored. He looked over to Nix as he was trying to heal Coda, but the medic was obviously just as scared as he was; his only response was a quick shrug and a shake of his head. He then shifted his eyes to Angel, desperate for her to answer. “M-ma’am, what are we going to do…?!”

Angel locked her dark eye with the blonde’s. She knew they were all going to die if she kept everyone in that World; she only had one option. “We’re getting the hell out of here, that’s what,” She answered. “That man alone has taken out two of us in less than a minute, and I’m not going to let that number get any higher.” She then pressed a small button on the side of her helmet to activate her earpiece.

"This is Nightingale to Hub, we're taking heavy fire! Requesting an immediate extraction!" The hacker stated out, trying to hear herself over the chaos. "We have a hacker in our target World! A damn good one! We can’t take him!” She quickly peered around the corner to fire another shot, before ducking back behind the safety of the rockface. “I repeat, we need an extraction for Nightingale, Bloom, Riff, Tiny Dancer, Mimic, Patient Zero, Hound, and Profit! Over!"

To her dismay, all that she could hear from her earpiece was static. Her brows furrowed, and she cursed out in extreme frustration. "Damnit, come on!" Her device must have either broken sometime during the battle, or Xisuma cut off all lines of outside inter-World communication. Now she had no way to contact anyone back at the Hive. How was she going to get her and every other member of her squadron back home in one piece?

Angel let out in exasperated groan and leaned her head back against the boulder. She had to think of something. But her options were few and far between; taking out every other member wouldn’t matter, for Xisuma was the real threat. The idea of getting everyone past the World border and back out into the Void sounded alright, but then she remembered the massive worm that could possibly still be wandering about. Even the most straightforward solution, killing Xisuma, was so far fetched that it would take something close to a miracle to have it work.

But the last option was the best way out. And Angel knew she had to take the plunge. 

She took a breath, and opened her eyes to gaze down at Lucky. “Lucky…” She started, voice cold and determined. “Kill the lights. And make it rain. Hard.”

Angel could see the soldier's eyes widen through his filthy visor, but he gave a hasty nod. “Y-yes ma’am…!” His holographic setup appeared, and his fingers flew across his keyboard. “A-and… a-and can I ask why…?”

The sniper shifted her chilling gaze away from the young blonde and up to the clear blue sky. “You’ll see…”

Not a moment later, the bright warmth of the day transformed into the eerie cold of the night as the sun disappeared and the sky went black in the blink of an eye. Dark clouds rain zapped into existence, crackling with thunder and a terrifying amount of lightning. A heavy downpour of rain soon followed, making the ground slippery and the surroundings almost impossible to see through.

The perfect cover.

Angel poked her head around the corner once again, and to her satisfaction, finally caught sight of Xisuma. He was right out in the open, helping Mumbo to his feet. She knew she couldn’t waste this shot. Or several, for that matter. So she came out of her hiding spot, lifted her rifle, aimed through the scope, activated an aimbot hack for good measure…

And fired a single shot, right at his head.

However, to her frustration and dismay, it was as if the hacker knew it was coming from a mile away. He held up his hand, and a translucent blue sphere pixelated around him and Mumbo. The bullets smashed against the forcefield, but couldn’t break through in the slightest. Just as quickly as it appeared, the dome dissipated, and Xisuma flew off up into the sky.

The sniper frowned as she swiftly reloaded her rifle. Xisuma surely was skilled, and not just with hacks. He was hypervigilant, light on his feet, and although his combat could be improved, it was still effective enough to take out several of her colleagues without breaking a sweat.

Angel gritted her teeth, and swiftly sprang herself up as she initiated both a flight hack and an invisibility. She disappeared and sped off into the stormy skies after her target, holstering her rifle. If he could dodge an aimbot assisted bullet, the gun wasn’t going to be of much use. She had to get up close and personal to kill him.

Cold rain pelted against her sleek armor as she soared and closed in on the hacker. And before Xisuma realized who was behind him, the woman used one final boost of speed close the distance between them, followed by her locking her arms around his figure to subdue him.

“Wh- HEY!!” Xisuma cried out, struggling against Angel’s iron grip. “LET GO OF ME!!” He and the woman continued to fly through the pouring rain, each fighting for control. 

A roar of thunder sounded, sending a massive tremor through Angel's body. "There's no way I'm letting you go." She growled as she deactivated her invisibility to show herself. She faced her opponent, before reaching into her pocket and whipping out a garrote wire. She knew what she had to do. “As good as you are, you’re not getting out of this alive.” The woman then took the steel wire and quickly wrapped it around Xisuma’s throat, choking him.

But just after the sniper began her attempt at strangling the man, he did something she didn’t expect. Instead of reaching for his throat right away, he gripped both sides of her helmet tightly, and suddenly Angel felt an excruciating wave of pain wash over her body. Her skin burned, her eye watered, her head pounded so hard she thought it would explode. What was he doing?! She tried to endure the horrible sensation as she saw her own body start to glitch in a cloud of pixels, but she couldn’t hold back her instinctive reaction.

“GAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

Her ear piercing scream of agony echoed through the lightning filled sky as she tried to break free from his grasp, even making the decision to unwrap her wire from his neck to fight back. But he kept his hands locked on her head, and to her horror, her energy started to drain, as if he was sucking the life right out of her. Her mind turned woozy, making her attempt to break free much more difficult.

After what felt like hours of falling and struggling and her stamina draining, Angel felt so weak that she almost let go of Xisuma. However, her opponent’s surprise move must have had an effect on him too, because just as Angel felt on the verge of losing consciousness, his eyes rolled back in his head and he stopped flying, causing the two of them to take a nosedive towards the ground below.

Angel saw this as a chance to gain the upper hand. Trying to stay awake as she and her opponent dive bombed through the storm, she tightened her grip on his throat. But she instantly became more alert as his eyes suddenly snapped open and began struggling once more, trying to pull the wire away from his neck.

The pair continued hurling towards the earth alongside the rain, locked in a dangerous game of flatliner. Angel tightened the wire around her opponent’s neck further, determined to be the victor. But with whatever Xisuma had done to her, she was extremely tired and on the verge of fainting. So the final result of their skirmish couldn’t be predicted.

One thing could be said, however; with how Xisuma’s fighting was becoming weaker by the second, it was obvious that he was close to passing out. His gloved fingers soon started to slip away from the wire, his choking could no longer be heard over the howling wind, his face was turning purple. All the sniper had to do was hang on a bit longer-

“XISUMA!!”

Out of nowhere, a new voice called out over the thunder, followed by someone ramming into the two hackers. The force of the blow caused Angel to lose her grip on Xisuma and go spiraling away, off on her own path towards the ground. Although she only caught a glimpse of the figure, she was able to just about make out a younger man in a red shirt through her rain slick visor, gliding away with the large pair of elytra strapped to his back. A green blur could be seen dangling loosely in his arms. Xisuma.

“GAH!!” The glitching sniper snapped her eye wide open as she realized she was now in complete freefall. She tried to activate a flight hack to slow her descent, but to her surprise, nothing happened. Perhaps she was just so exhausted that she needed a bit more time… a luxury that she might not be able to afford, given how close she was getting to the ground. She took a breath, gritted her teeth, and gave another try.

But again, her attempt at flying failed. What was going on?! Her mind raced at the options it could have been, but every possibility sounded more ridiculous than the next.

A scary realization suddenly came over Angel. What Xisuma did. What made her feel so tired and weak in the first place. What made her unable to use her powers…

Xisuma leeched her hacks.

An ability reserved only for use on traitors of the Shadowbyte Army, leeching was used to take away one’s hacks, before ultimately being executed. The greatest amount of shame somebody could feel before death; having their precious gift given to them by Ecryptos taken away. The feeling of failing the savior who took them under his wing, the one who gave them a home when they had nobody else to turn to…

At least Ecryptos had the kindness in his heart to put them out of their misery.

But that was the thing that set Angel’s mind racing. Ecryptos was the only known hacker that could accomplish such a feat. He created leeching hacks, after all. So how could Xisuma have to ability to do only what the Army’s general could?

As much as her mind demanded an answer, her focus had to shift to the situation in front of her; not fall to her death. Her gaze darted all over the field below her, moving from person to person. One of them had to be one of her colleagues. She then reached for her earpiece and yelled out over the wind and rain, silently hoping that Xisuma didn’t disable all lines of communication.

“This is Nightingale to all!” She stated, trying to slow down her descent by spreading her arms and legs out. She heard that even her voice was glazed over with static and glitching, but she continued. “I need immediate assistance! My flight hacks are disabled and I’m falling fast! One of you, catch me before I touch down, over!”

Static filled her ears once more, and her heart stopped. Nobody could hear her, and she was about to touch down any second… was this it? Her last moment? She couldn’t see any other way out of it. Accepting her fate was the only thing she could do. So she closed her eye, and let the thought of death take hold-

“HOLD ON!”

A voice called out over the rain, followed by Angel feeling a pair of arms scoop her out of the air. What? She weakly tilted her head up, and saw one of her own, a Special Ops Shadowbyte soldier. Jazz!

But the moment of relief washing over her didn’t last for long. Before she knew it, both her and Jazz made a rough landing on the ground, and she immediately collapsed out of exhaustion and into the mud.

“Ma’am!” Jazz stated, trying to help the fallen Angel to her feet. “What happened?!”

“I…” She breathed, her eyelid heavy and droopy. She could still hear the glitching in her voice. “Xisuma… the hacker… he leeched… he leeched my hacks…”

Her shaking words silenced the soldier. “...what…?!” He asked, glancing around them, as if to try and find the man. “He leeched them?! How-”

The taller woman then placed her hands on his shoulders to cut him off. “Jazz… listen to me,” She stated, still trying to catch her breath. “Listen to me carefully. There’s almost no chance of me getting out of here in my current state, but I can try to help the ones that can. I need to know who’s still alive.” As much as she didn’t want to die, she knew that her chances of survival were slim to none.

Jazz was stunned for a moment, but he took a breath and nodded. “Y...yes ma’am,” He continued to dart his eyes around. “Sakura’s still up, I know that for sure. She’s still in her mech.” He leaned his head to gesture behind his superior, where sure enough, the giant R.O.S.A. was fending off several attackers. “I don’t know where Lucky and Nix are, but I hope they found a place to hide-”

A loud BANG sounded through the roaring wind, followed by a slow metallic creak and a harsh THUNK. The younger soldier glanced over Angel’s shoulder, and after a split second of confusion, his eyes suddenly widened in sheer panic.

“...oh shit, shit, shit, shit…!”

Before Angel could say anything, Jazz suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and ran in the opposite direction of where Sakura was. She struggled to keep up alongside him, taken aback by the sudden action. Why was he running? 

She glanced over her shoulder to see what had happened. The R.O.S.A. had collapsed onto its side, smoke billowing out of the giant metal machine. Part of the engine was sticking out, letting off an unsettling red glow that got brighter and brighter by the second. Many people could be seen running or scrambling away, Sakura among them-

And then the mech was consumed in a ball of red fire, exploding with a thunderous BOOM. Angel was sent flying backwards, the only sound in her ears being a loud and constant ringing. Out of instinct, she covered her arms over her head in an attempt to protect herself as she landed and skidded harshly along the muddy ground. Several large chunks of debris and shrapnel fell onto and around her sprawled figure like hail, some causing much more pain than others. 

For what felt like hours, the sniper heard nothing but the loud ringing. She had to get up, before she could be apprehended. But the moment she cracked open her eye, she was faced with utter chaos. And although her blurry vision was fading in and out, along with the ringing in her head refusing to cease, she saw dozens of swiftly moving shapes and colors and light. The faint crackling of nearby flames and echoing screams of pain and terror barely reached her ears. And the smell… the strong, pungent smoke from the explosion overpowered nearly everything else. The only other scent she could pick up was sickeningly dry and sweet, almost metallic. Blood. Whether it was hers or somebody else's, she couldn’t tell.

She slowly rolled over onto her side, and was met with a new sight. There was a figure right next to her on the ground, a black and grey blur stained with crimson. The metallic smell of blood became much stronger as she tried to get a clearer picture by leaning closer. Her stomach soon dropped as she realized who it might have been.

Now Angel had to move. No matter how badly her vision was fading, no matter how much of her consciousness was slipping away, no matter how feeble she felt; she needed to get out of there.

But before she could try and get up, the last bit of her vision was consumed by darkness, and her body went limp as she fell into an unwanted and dreaded slumber.

[buoyantsaturn]

Ribs (1/1)

summary: “Hi, um. Sorry, I hope I have the right number. Is this Will Solace? Shit, sorry, you can’t answer me, this is a voicemail. Um. You modeled for my life drawing class, and I was wondering if you could model for me privately? Wait, shit, that sounds creepy, hold on. Start over. My name is Nico di Angelo and I’d like to hire you as a model so I can complete my final portfolio for my class. The one you modeled for. Um. Please call me back if you’re interested. Thanks.”

word count: 2925

read on ao3

“Hi, um. Sorry, I hope I have the right number. Is this Will Solace? Shit, sorry, you can’t answer me, this is a voicemail. Um. You modeled for my life drawing class, and I was wondering if you could model for me privately? Wait, shit, that sounds creepy, hold on. Start over. My name is Nico di Angelo and I’d like to hire you as a model so I can complete my final portfolio for my class. The one you modeled for. Um. Please call me back if you’re interested. Thanks.”

Nico and Will had communicated everything through text. Time and place - Nico’s apartment was closer for Will than the school’s studios, and they would work around Will’s busy schedule - Will’s rate was discussed, and they set up a time for their first meeting. They didn’t speak in person before then, and Nico didn’t want to make a terrible first - technically second or maybe even third - impression by letting Will think he was a slob before they’d even properly met, which meant that Nico had been furiously cleaning his apartment for a while before the time Will was supposed to show up.

Nico would never admit it, but there was a reason he’d asked Will over any of the other models that had sat for his class. He’d met Will once, so briefly that there was no way Will would remember it, but Will had complimented something of Nico’s that had been on display in the studio. There had been a sparkle in Will’s eyes when he saw Nico’s painting, and Nico had wanted to recreate that same look in as many medias as he could manage.

When Will finally knocked on the door, Nico had to shout, “Just a second!” while he struggled to hide things away in a closet before he could rush over to open the door.

“Um. Hi,” Nico said.

Will smiled brightly down at him. “Oh! You’re Nico! I remember you now, hi!”

“Hi,” Nico said again, and moved out of the doorway. “Um. Please, come in.”

Will walked past him and set his backpack down on the couch, pulling off his jacket as well. “So, what are we doing today? You said you wanted to work in different medias, right? And you probably need specific poses or something? How do you want me?”

Nico was almost frozen. “Um, however you want is good. I was going to stick with charcoal today, and probably leave ink and paints for another time. I’ll need one standing, one halfway - like, sitting or crouching or something - and one full down.”

Will tugged his shirt over his head and tucked his thumbs in the waistband of his sweatpants before he caught Nico staring at him. “Sorry, um, I just figured if you’re going to see me naked then there’s no harm in just, uh… You know?”

“Right, of course,” Nico said, and his gaze dropped to the ground. “You...do that. I’ve got a space heater around here somewhere, so I’ll go find that. Just, uh, get comfortable.”

Nico kept his eyes on the ground as he went to his bedroom, finding the space heater where he’d shoved it under the bed about a week ago to get it out of his way.

“Hey, I’ve got some reading to do for class, is it cool if I’m holding something while we’re doing this?” Will called from the living room, and Nico bumped his head on his bed frame as he tried to get out from underneath it.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” he shouted, and got to his feet to drag the space heater out of the room. He brought it out to the living room as he said, “I really don’t care what you do, as long as you don’t move. You could take a nap if you wanted to, and I’d just draw you while you’re sleeping.”

He nearly dropped the space heater when he spun around to face Will. “Wait, no! That sounded weird, I’m not trying to be creepy, I promise.”

Will chuckled. “I believe you, don’t worry about it.”

Nico allowed himself to relax, though that was the same moment he noticed that Will was completely naked. Nico’s heart skipped a beat as his eyes fell back to the floor, and he said, “Do you want to start?”

“Oh, right,” Will said, and Nico watched his bare feet pad across the wood floors for a moment, like he was scouting a place to pose. “Anywhere?”

Nico nodded.

He waited until Will had stopped moving to set up the space heater, and dragged over his easel and a chair. When Nico took a seat, he finally looked up to see the pose Will had taken.

He was sort of standing in front of the window, one foot propped up on the windowsill while the other was planted on the ground to keep his balance. His back was straight against the wall and his textbook was sat in his lap, and Nico was so thankful that he wouldn’t be getting such an eyeful as long as the textbook stayed where it was.

“Are you going to be able to hold that for an hour?” Nico asked, already itching to start drawing the smooth lines of Will’s shoulders and legs and the sharp point of his hip that seemed to be staring right at Nico.

“It’ll be fine,” Will told him. “My neck might start to get stiff, but I’ll be fine. Are you starting yet?”

“Uh, yeah. Let me know if you need a break or some water or if you get too cold,” Nico told him, and started to draw.

Nico tended to get lost in his work when he was as focused as he was, and he almost forgot he was sketching out a real person and not a statue when Will’s face started to twitch.

“Will?” Nico said, and Will flinched.

“Sorry, can I move my hand?” Will asked.

“Oh, sure, but try not to move anything else,” Nico told him.

Will reached up with the hand closest to the window and scratched at his nose. “Ugh, finally. My nose has been itching for like, an hour.”

“Wait, an hour?” Nico repeated. “How long have we been sitting here?”

Will shrugged his shoulder just slightly. “I dunno, long enough for me to get a headstart on next week’s readings.”

Nico leaned over and checked his phone, seeing that more than an hour and a half had passed since they’d started. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you here so long. Do you think you could hold on for just ten more minutes? I’ve done everything but your face and hair, but I can try to be quick.”

“Yeah, I can do ten minutes,” Will replied. “But not much longer than that, I have somewhere I have to be.”

Nico nodded and went back to work, drawing Will’s face in great detail but only sketching out the basic shape of his hair - he could fix that up later on his own time.

“Alright, I think we’re done for today,” Nico said finally, and Will didn’t hesitate to stand up stretch his arms up over his head. Nico ducked his head behind his easel so that he could only see Will from the waist up.

“Can I see?” Will asked, already walking closer and leaning over Nico’s shoulder to take a look. “Oh, wow.”

Nico didn’t see what Will was so impressed by, since the sparkle he could see in Will’s eyes was already more beautiful than an emotionless drawing.

“That’s amazing,” Will told him. “You really are good at this, you know? I remember seeing something of yours in the studio once, it was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Nico felt himself flush from the proximity - when they turned their heads to look at each other, their noses almost brushed. Plus, Will was still completely naked.

“Anyway, I should probably get going,” Will said, finally moving away, toward the couch where he’d left his backpack. He took out a pair of boxers and pulled those on before dressing in clothes different than the ones he’d been wearing when he arrived.

Nico tried to occupy himself with cleaning up so that he wasn’t simply staring at Will while he dressed, but eventually Will asked him, “How do I look?”

He didn’t understand how it was possible for someone to look better wearing so many layers of clothes than when they were naked, but somehow Will made it happen. He’d put on jeans and a t-shirt and a flannel and a jacket, despite the fact that it really wasn’t all that cold outside.

Nico realized after a moment that he hadn’t answered, so he nodded his head. “Uh, good. You-- That’s not what you were wearing earlier.”

“Yeah, no,” Will said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “My sister set me up on a date with some guy tonight. She thinks I’ll like him, but I’m not a fan of setups.” He shrugged. “I like to meet the guy myself, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Nico said, and Will picked up his backpack. “Well, uh, good luck?”

“Thanks,” Will said with a smile. “Let me know when you want me to come over again, okay?”

Will was slouching in a chair, one arm relaxed on his lap and the over holding up his head, his feet flat on the floor. His body was facing Nico but his head was turned away slightly, and his eyes were starting to droop shut.

“Will?” Nico said when the model had started tipping forward.

“Sorry,” Will said, and righted himself. “I was up all last night studying for a practical I had earlier. I don’t think I did very well.”

“Practical?” Nico prompted, partially because he was genuinely curious but also because he figured that if he kept Will talking, then he wouldn’t fall asleep.

“I had to diagnose a patient based on the symptoms my classmates pretended to have, but I think I confused aphagia and aplasia, and I made a mistake when I was giving somebody else symptoms and messed them up, and--” He sighed. “It’s been a long couple of days.”

Nico didn’t respond to that, so he chose not to. He checked the time and saw that they’d been going for about half an hour, and Nico had inked out Will’s basic form. He could easily spend another half out just on Will’s face and hands, and figured that if Will moved now, he could easily recreate the pose.

“Do you want to take a second to stretch?” Nico asked. “We can take a break, if you think you can get back to that position.”

Will shook his head just slightly. “Nah, I think I’ll be fine.” While keeping his head pointed in one direction, he glanced at Nico out of the corner of his eye and let his lips twitch up in a tiny smile. “You could try talking to me, then maybe I won’t start falling asleep again.”

Nico felt himself starting to blush so he tried to hide behind his easel. “It’s hard for me to keep up a conversation when I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Okay, then ask me something and hopefully it’ll be a good enough question that I can talk about it for a little while,” Will suggested.

Nico hummed. “Alright. Um. How was your date?”

Will seemed surprised by the question, but maintained his pose. “My date?”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Nico said quickly. “I shouldn’t have asked something so personal, sorry.”

“No, no! It’s fine, really,” Will said. “It was...fine. We had dinner at a mediocre place, and he was--” Will huffed and rolled his eyes. “He was so boring, and kind of an asshole, too. He only talked about himself and pretended not to notice when the waitress dropped off the check. Like, I wasn’t the one that ordered two beers and a dessert for himself, which was probably a third of the check on its own.”

“He was just in it for the free meal, then?” Nico asked, and realized that he was studying Will’s sour expression more than he was sketching it out.

“I guess so, yeah,” Will sighed.

“Asshole,” Nico agreed.

Will went on complaining about his date, and Nico seemed to hum in all the right places because it kept Will talking. Soon enough, Nico was able to finish inking all of the lines, and told Will that he could move.

Immediately, he stretched his arms over his head and groaned. “Damn, the complaining felt good but my back feels like shit. I’ve been hunched over tables for days with all this studying and I think it’s finally catching up to me. Maybe sitting like that for so long was a mistake.”

“Hey, don’t blame me, I offered you a stretch break,” Nico reminded him.

“Yeah, I know,” Will said, and slowly got to his feet. “Can I see?”

“Sure,” Nico replied, and angled his easel so that Will could come around and see it. “I’m done with all the inking, and I’m going to use watercolors to finish it up, but that’s something I can do on my own time.”

“You’ll have to show me the next time I’m here,” Will said. “It looks amazing already, but I’m sure it’ll be even better when you’re done with it.”

Nico scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “An artist’s only as good as his model.”

Will was stretched out on Nico’s couch, legs propped up on one arm, his head against the other. His head was turned toward Nico for the first time during one of these sessions, so he was able to watch Nico as he worked.

“How’d you get into all this?” Will asked suddenly, breaking the silence around them. “Drawing and painting and everything.”

Nico shrugged. “Something to do. I moved around a lot as a kid, and art was the only thing that was really constant. What about you? You want to be a doctor, right?”

“That’s the dream,” Will said. “I like helping people, it seemed like the way to do it.”

“Maybe someday if you get your own practice or whatever, then I can paint something for you to hang in your waiting room,” Nico told him, not even realizing that he was saying it out loud.

“I would love that,” Will said sincerely, and when Nico looked up, he noticed that same sparkle that would appear whenever Will saw a piece of Nico’s art that he really liked.

“Don’t move,” Nico whispered, like saying the words too loudly might startle the look off Will’s face.

“Don’t move what?” Will asked.

“Your face,” Nico said, working quick so that he didn’t lose this chance. “You-- It’s… It’s a good face, just don’t move it.”

“A good face, huh?” Will repeated, expression softening and making the sparkle in his eyes shine brighter.

Nico brushed his hair away from his eyes, smearing paint across his forehead unknowingly. Will looked like he was holding back laughter.

“What?” Nico asked.

“Please just hurry before I laugh and ruin this,” Will told him.

“Right, okay,” Nico said, and got back to work.

He wasn’t exactly happy with the finished product, but any more touch ups might have ruined it completely, so Nico set down his brushes.

“Okay,” Nico said with a sigh, and Will hated how disappointed he looked.

He jumped up off the couch and went to look over Nico’s shoulder, eyes landing on the most lifelike painting he’d ever seen. It was like Nico had caught him mid-laugh, eyes shining, and Will gasped at the sight. “Wow,” he whispered. “That’s… I know I always say your stuff is amazing, but… This is really…”

“It’s not perfect, though,” Nico said. “Some of the shadows are uneven, and your eyes aren’t the same shape, and--”

“No, they’re just right,” Will told him, leaning in and pointing at the painting’s eyes. “My one eye squints like that whenever I smile, so you got it perfect.”

Nico huffed. “I doubt my instructor will see it that way.”

Will stepped back and went over to the chair where he’d stacked his clothes, pulling on his underwear once he found it. “I’ll tell you what,” he said while tugging his shirt on over his head. “When you get a perfect score on your portfolio, we’ll go out for drinks to celebrate.” He put on his pants while Nico stood up and started cleaning up his supplies.

“And what happens when I don’t get a perfect score?” Nico asked.

Will moved to stand in front of him, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I’ll buy you dinner.”

Nico looked up in surprise. “You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to,” Will replied. “I’ve...really enjoyed spending time with you, and I don’t want that to end just because you’re finished with your assignments. I like you, Nico.”

“You’re...serious?”

Will rolled his eyes and smiled. “Of course I’m serious. “You’re funny, and nice, and you’re cute when you’re concentrating and when you’re nervous and...all the time, really. So I want to go out with you, like, on a date. So, Nico, will you--”

Nico pressed forward and kissed him, brushing his fingers across Will’s cheeks. When he pulled back, he saw paint streaked on Will’s face and the brightest of sparkles in his eyes as he smiled down at Nico.

thanks for reading!!

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[littlemisssquiggles]

RWBY Musings #44: A Squiggle Meister’s Views on Whitley Schnee. The Proverbial Black Sheep of the Schnee Siblings or the overlooked Diamond in the Rough?

An uncommon character for me to muse about, I know. I don’t generally make it habit to ponder about this character but, oddly enough, recently I got thinking about Whitley Schnee. Mind you, Whitley didn’t exactly receive the most favourable of introductions back during the events of RWBY Volume 4.

However, in spite of this, it didn’t deter from making him come off as a less than interesting character.

I wanted to take today to not really do any sort of in-depth analysis on Whitley but rather share one or two ponderings about him that I’ve considered. To think, this all started with just one thought.

Whitley with the Good Hair

Imagine...the same Whitley Schnee we all know from RWBY but with fluffy, unkempt, wavy, hair. 

I am not even joking with this. Not gonna lie either. Whitley’s hair kinda bugs me a little bit. It’s so perfectly well-kept all the time that at moments when he’s onscreen, it almost appears too perfect if you actually get what I’m saying and I don’t sound like a complete imbecile bringing up this point. Never have I figured I’d have to use the words ‘outlandishly neat hair’ to describe a character.

In an odd way, I pegged Whitley to be the type to be born with hair that’s not exactly like his sisters. I noticed from the Schnee Family portrait in their residence that Jacques’ hair doesn’t seem to be as naturally white as snow as he’d like others to presume.

As a matter of fact, in the portrait, Jacques’ hair is predominantly black but while his mustache is still dark, you can tell that his hair was starting to grey a bit from age. That’s right, I said, grey. Not white.

However, when we met Jacques in the series, both his hair and mustache were completely chalk white. Give the man a big red and white bucket of fried chicken and he’d be Colonel Sanders.

A dye job perhaps? I wouldn’t put it past him. The series has already painted Jacques as such a ‘wannabe Schnee’, that it wouldn’t surprise me not one bit if he did change his hair colour to fit with his new Schnee title. This actually makes me curious about Jacques’ origin.

What kind of upbringing and background would a man such as that have to come from to become this kind of tyrannical person? So far, we know naught of Jacques’ previous life beyond the fact that he married into the Schnee Family and was only interested in Mama Schnee for her name. This is a man who wanted to the wealth, power and status that the Schnee name brought that he was willingly to feign romantic interest in the Daughter of the Head of the Schnee Dust Company to do so.

This is a man who wanted to be somebody. So with that thought in mind, this pegs the question. How much of a nobody did Jacques used to be before becoming a Schnee?

This makes me wonder if even having children, the proclaimed heirs, is nothing but another superficial front for Jacques to hide behind. It makes me wonder if Jacques has any real intention of ever giving up being the Head of the Schnee Dust Company. This is a man who stole the integrity of a well-known and trusted name in Remnant and tarnished it for his own egotistical greed.

Would a man as devious as that wholeheartedly and willingly just hand the reigns to someone else, even if that someone was his own spawn and rightful heir? I don’t think so. I think Jacques might even end up double crossing Whitley, the current heir, in the end and using him to heighten his running in the company.

This brings me back to Whitley again. This post is supposed to be about the youngest Schnee Sibling after all and not his bad-minded father. However Jacques will be mentioned now and again because the type of person Whitely is now, is as a result of Jacques’ grooming.

Resuming talk about his hair. Soft, silky, snow-white hair seems to be a hereditary trait amongst the Schnee bloodline. That being said, what if...like his father, Whitley’s hair is different from his sisters. Though it may be white in colour as a Schnee’s head would be, the texture of his hair is not of his family.

Imagine if...Whitley’s hair is naturally wavier than his sister’s, creating this constantly dishevelled look that he hates because it’s not the vision of him that his father wants of him and because of this, Whitley desperately tries to keep it under control.  Whitley certainly strikes me as the type. He’s so snooty all the time and his hair oddly mimics that level of contempt.

I’m kind of chuckling to myself imagining for Atlas Arc where Whitley is forced to play nice and befriend our heroes because Jacques is making him act the part as a means of gathering intel. But that’s not why I’m laughing. I’m laughing because I’m envisioning Whitley hanging out with the Rosebuds: Ruby and Oscar and the two, mostly Ruby’s idea, drag the poor Schnee boy to an area where there’s water.

And while Ruby and Oscar go for a quick dip, Whitley cautiously chooses to stay dry, remarking that he doesn’t quite enjoy going to pool areas because he doesn’t like getting his hair wet. However Ruby and Oscar don’t buy the excuse and hatch a plan to get the Schnee boy to join them. So while Ruby distracts Whitley, Oscar sneaks up behind him and playfully shoves him into the water.

It was originally meant as a playful joke to get the pretentious rich boy to loosen up a little but the entire act ends up infuriating Whitley. Turns out, Whitley is just as harsh with words when he’s pissed like his sister Weiss.

But as Whitley is uncharacteristically yelling at our veteran rose buds, Ruby and Oscar are in awe.

Not for Whitley losing his cool, which was a first, but because of what the water had done to his hair. When Whitley had fell into the water, it washed away whatever chemical hair products that was keeping it at bay because Whitley now stood with a full head of the fluffiest curly white locks the two had ever seen.

He looked like a completely different person; albeit while also looking like an angry lollipop with a head of white cotton candy.

And upon realizing what had happened based on Ruby and Oscar’s shared surprised reactions, Whitley becomes incredibly embarrassed at the fact that his secret was out and before anyone could tell him to stop, Whitley immediately climbs out of the water and storms off.  

If Whitley had tougher hair, he’d probably trust Klein to comb it because he’s the only one who fully understands Whitley’s need to please his father.

Just picture, Whitley Schnee---the real Whitley Schnee with his natural fluffy ‘bed head’ posed disgruntled before a mirror, looking disgustedly at himself, surrounded by varying hair styling utensils and products while Klein works his magic to get the young boy looking like a proper boy; just as daddy would like it.    

Yup. Whitley definitely strikes me as that type. The type who would have wild, unruly hair but is able to pull it off quite handsomely because, though a little more difficult to maintain that his sisters’, Whitley actually has really good hair. Whitley with the good hair. He just needs to learn how to maintain it but unfortunately doesn’t want to.

To Whitely, while the wild natural ‘bed head’ look might suit him better because he’d look less like a mini-Jacques with it, due to the young man’s obsession with living up to his father’s expectations of him, he keeps this side hidden because...the real him isn’t up to his father’s standards. Neat Whitley is and that’s how he wants to keep it.

Yep. Though this is all mostly me just speculating, I can totally see this being canon because as I’ll say again, Whitley strikes me as that type of character. The type that probably has another side to him that feels more true to himself but chooses not to show it often or at all. The type that would need someone to help him with his hair and other things because he doesn’t know how to maintain this delusion of himself on his own. Someone to help him keep his guise up, quickly painting all the cracks in his mask whenever  one of his many pretences start to fall apart and his real nature and feelings start to leak out.

The type where if the slightest thing isn’t perfect, he’ll completely unravel and wouldn’t know how to piece himself back together without help from those who truly care about him because he’d been forced to suppress himself for so long. At least, this is how I’m interpreting Whitley’s character.

Apple Doesn’t Fall Far From the Tree

‘...It’s foolish, not to do what father asks...’

‘Are you jealous? Is that it? Whatever do you mean? Is that why you hate me? Are you jealous of my abilities? Of Winter’s? Hmm. Not really. Honestly I find it barbaric. It’s beneath people like me, like father...’

Y’know what’s funny? If you pay attention to some of Whitley’s dialogue from V4, you can interpret a lot about his character regardless of whether it was the writers’ intention for this assumption or not. For starters, what I’m gathering from this is that Whitley, contrary to what Weiss might think of him right now, doesn’t hate his sisters’.

Between Weiss and Winter, I feel a stronger connection with Weiss resonating from Whitley. I certainly get the vibe that he likes her more than Winter.

‘...You’re strong, like Winter. You never liked Winter. True. But you can’t deny her resolve...’

What’s interesting to note is when Weiss called Whitley out for disliking Winter, he didn’t deny it. As a matter of fact, he openly admitted it without the slightest hint of remorse. However when Weiss questioned Whitley about hating her, he never exactly said he did. His answer was a nonchalant ‘not really’. So Whitley dislikes Winter but not Weiss. So why is that?

Here’s my deduction. I think the reason why Whitley may resent Winter is because in his head, not only was she the first to defy their father but she was one whose actions encouraged Weiss to follow in her defiant footsteps; choosing to study to become a huntress away at Beacon rather than in Atlas where Jacques continue to keep a very tight reigns on her.

Winter was the first to break free from her cage and started this whole debacle of disobedience. If Winter had just stayed in line, then Whitley wouldn’t have lost not one but both of his sisters.

‘...You seem different. And you’ve been gone. I’ll have you know, I didn’t stop growing while you were away at Beacon...’

In rewatching this scene where Whitley was first introduced, this line he said to Weiss really stuck out to me. It kind of implies Whitley’s true feelings about Weiss leaving here. It tells me, as the viewer, that Whitley might be harbouring some unspoken feelings of bitterness towards his sister’s departure for Beacon.

I’m not sure how close the Schnee Siblings were growing up but it is safe to assume that there was some level of closeness as family, right? The impression I got here is that to Whitley, with his sisters around there was the slight comfort of knowing that he wasn’t alone. Even if their relationship was shaky, his sisters were always present in his life at all times. But because Weiss chose to defy their father, like Winter did before her, for a second time in his life, Whitley lost yet another sister.

His big sister had left home...left Jacques...left him and why? To forge her own path outside of the sheltered lifestyle their father had laid out for them.

There is no doubt that Whitley is loyal to Jacques to a fault. He’s such a trained canary with the way how he just blindly follows Jacques around and adheres to everything he says and does; that it makes me wonder if this kid is even human and not some robo-child programmed to be subservient to the whim of Jacques Schnee.

Even Penny Pollendina felt more human than machine than Whitley and she was the real deal.

That being said, I also believe there is no denying that Whitley...in his own Whitley way, loves his sisters. Particularly Weiss and when they both left...it probably hurt. A lot more than he alludes to. Perhaps he feels like his sisters both abandoned him. While Weiss and Winter stayed close and held on to each other, Whitley was left alone with only Jacques as his guide.

Not even Mama Schnee was around, as it would seem. Too preoccupied with her own drunkard stupor to be there for her own son.

Speaking of which, did anyone else notice that in V4, Jacques keeps a picture of Whitley on his desk in his study but one of his own wife on the shelf in the corner of the room?

What does that say? Whitley is certainly special to Jacques. I mean, he is the only he has left. The only one that hasn’t pulled away. His little perfectly groomed puppet that he occasionally likes to parade around for all of Atlas to see what a caring father he is including every wealthy Atlesian aristocrat dumb enough to fall for their act and invest in Jacques. It’s a never-ending game of manipulation where Whitley is the sole MVP.

However the weird thing is, I don’t get Whitley’s real motive for following Jacques. Though he’s painted as a puppet, the way how Whitley played Weiss---oh I’m sorry, based on the way Weiss claimed Whitley played her like a fiddle while he himself didn’t deny that that was his intentions from the start, makes me wonder if he could have his own schemes underway.

Whitley is such an elusive character to me that I can’t tell if his faithfulness to Jacques is out of blind love, a son’s desperate need for his father’s constant appraisal and acknowledgment or...could Whitley have his own plans for the Schnee Dust Company and Jacques is just too ignorant to notice his own son’s deceit?

I brought up this hunch in another musing about Whitley. Sure Jacques is probably just manipulating Whitley and using him in the same fashion he does for everything and everyone around him. But what if...the twist is that Whitley is also using Jacques and plans on giving him his just desserts.

They say karma is a cold-hearted bitch so wouldn’t it be ironic and a fitting punishment for Jacques to get taken down by the very perfect child he’s been grooming to be like him in the same fashion he duped Mama Schnee? A nice addition to Whitley’s character is if of all the Schnee children, he’s the one that cared about their mother the most.

Though like father, like son, I like the idea of Whitley being a momma’s boy too; sharing a close bond with Mamma Schnee from since birth. I imagined, before Weiss’ 10th birthday, Mamma Schnee was probably a very loving mother who adored all her children. However Whitley was the spoiled one because he was the baby of the bunch. But after hearing the truth that the man she’s been married to for years didn’t truly love her, the news changed Mamma Schnee and suddenly, she just wasn’t the same caring person anymore.

What if...as a young boy, Whitley was very close to his mother and hated the pain his own father caused her growing up. So much so that he’s been plotting his own devious scheme for years, smartly playing the role of ‘the good child’ as a ploy to gain Jacques’ trust before removing him from the picture as revenge. That’s one cool hunch for Whitley’s character story, dontcha think?

The Phantom of the Schnee Dust Company

Speaking of ideas for Whitley’s character story, this brings me to a next theory I’m wanna talk about.  

Does Whitley Schnee secretly have summoning powers like his sisters?

Winter Schnee once told Weiss that every member of the Schnee family has the ability to summon and have done so for generations. She made mention of this back in V3. That being said, I wonder if the same can be said for Whitley, who isn't a huntsman per say, but certainly has the potential to unlock this kind of power given his lineage, right?

What’s to say he hasn’t already? Perhaps, Whitley already awakened his semblance but no one else knows of this. Not even Jacques. I believe Whitley Schnee probably does possess summoning powers but unlike his sisters, who have both fully embraced their potential, Whitley despises his powers and thus, suppresses his abilities.

We’ve seen two Schnees accept their powers upon unlocking them. What would happen to one who’s unlocked their power but shows resistance?

This is going to sound weird to say but perhaps, Whitley’s Schnee power is surprisingly the strongest of the three siblings; even more powerful than his sisters’ combined; probably mirroring that of their grandfather’s skill level at that age.

Wouldn’t be surprised if Whitley associates the Schnee’s hereditary semblance with being a curse due to the rebellious nature that its current wielders seem to adopt once fully realizing their potential. After all, look at Winter and Weiss. They both left Jacques’ cold clutches upon acknowledging their strength as huntresses.

What if...Jacques has drilled into Whitley’s head that having such powers is a curse in itself because it made his sisters’ insolent and thus, Whitley sees it the same way too.

The more I consider it, the more I’m falling in love with the concept of Whitley having summoning abilities but because he chooses to ignore the existence of such powers within himself and thus represses his own semblance, he’s lost control of his own summoning.

Imagine...Whitley being haunted by a summon he unintentionally manifested in the real world? Besides having an arsenal of summons to chose from, both Winter and Weiss seem to have a signature summon that they call upon the most. For Winter, it’s her Beowolves. For Weiss, it’s her Arma Gigas.

So what if...Whitley’s summon is a Geist? A literal phantom that can take the form of anything it possesses. A creature of many masks, no different than its amateur summoner.

The Geist, being a summon, acts on the will of Whitley, its summoner. However because Whitley has been suppressing his powers for so long, he doesn’t quite know how to control the summon. Similar to how Weiss lost control and accidentally summoned a Boarbatusk at the charity ball out of her frustration with one of its disrespectful patrons, imagine Whitley’s Geist manifesting itself during moments when his emotions at its peak and the creature acts out on those negative emotions.

I’m just envisioning a side story for the upcoming Atlas Arc where some strange occurrences have been happening around Atlas that put the Schnee Dust Company in the spotlight. Competitor company buildings going up in flames. Missing former employees who were all reported to have quit the job in recent times. Severe injuries and in some cases, death, surrounding people who were in recent alleged heated contact with head of the company: Jacque Schnee; etc. At first the incidences were suspected to be White Fang activity, even though the White Fang haven’t been relevant since the Triumph of Haven and the reformation of the Brotherhood. But due to the unusual nature of the cases and the fact that no evidence was found at the scene of the crimes, these incidences eventually became closed cases. But that didn’t stop it from creating negative propaganda that brought the Schnee Dust Company to the forefront of the Atlesian headlines; catching the attention of the public including Weiss and Winter.

Imagine...Weiss and Winter working together to solve the mystery of what was going on within their family company while subsequently concocting a plan to remove Jacques Schnee once and for all under the assumption that he’s been orchestrating the events as an interrogation tactic to ward off competition while gaining the sympathy of the public eye. So in the beginning, Jacques Schnee was believed to be the main culprit. However, in the midst of it all, all traces of added evidence started pointing towards the true mastermind: Whitley Schnee who had been using his newly awakened semblance to get his father ahead and keep him at the top.

But do you know what the bigger twist would be? That Jacques was oblivious to Whitley’s powers and his intentions of using them the way he did.

Even better. Wanna hear the biggest twist? Whitley is oblivious to his own powers or at least, decides not accept that they aren’t real and his to control. While the rich boy was aware of the strange occurrences was due to a monster, he called ‘The Phantom’, what he didn’t know was that the beast was his summon. He always figured the beast was a ghost sent by karma to haunt him. But what he didn’t realize was that the wild summon was a manifestation of his own suppressed powers he’d been trying to hide even though they’d been growing stronger. So strong that’d become erratic with the summoned Geist appearing chaotic in form.

I just would love to see Whitley as a summoner; particularly an antagonistic one. I wonder if this is what the CRWBY Writers might be alluding to with his character or at least it’s one way to look at it. At first I figured he might’ve been the one to have no powers. But imagine if he does but uses them for all the wrong reasons; be it intentional or not.

Picture....a Battle of the Schnees where for the first time in RWBY history, Winter and Weiss tag-team to take down a crazed and broken Whitley who is revealed to be a summoner like his sisters and whose own summon had been attacking victims on Whitley’s behalf.

Of course, like I mentioned before, Whitley is unaware of this because he’s been suppressing his powers just he’d be suppressing so many other things about himself, forcibly trying to keep it all at bay to maintain his facade of perfection.

But in the end, it all falls apart and the Schnee boy suffers a mental breakdown with his own monstrous phantom lashing out because of it. So it’s up to his big sisters to come to his rescue.

Doesn’t that sound like a cool story to tell?

I want so much from the Atlas Arc. So many side stories I wanna see done and this is one of them. And if it leads to Whitley receiving an inkling of redemption; y’know reconciling things with his sisters with the three Schnee Siblings finally coming together as a family which then leads to them working together to put an end to Jacques’ reign, wouldn’t that be an interesting way to conclude Weiss’ story arc with her family on a positive light?

I know this is something I’d love to see as part of the Atlas Arc. But again, I’m not a writer for RWBY so I am curious to see what Miles and Kerry has in store for us going forward, particularly for Whitley.  

A Better Whitley

Although I originally wrote him off as a bad character, I’m actually intrigued as to where the CRWBY Writers are going to go with Whitley’s development, particularly regarding his role in the upcoming Atlas Arc.

I know for a fact that Whitley will be a major player in Weiss’ side of the story, for sure.

Don’t get me wrong, I still desire for Whitley to be an antagonist or rival character to Oscar Pine in the arena for Ruby’s affections.

While I doubt Whitley would have any genuine affection towards Ruby beyond using her in a similar fashion his own father used his mother, I think Whitley would be the perfect Ying to Oscar’s Yang to give the farm boy a well-deserved shove towards realizing his true feelings for the Silver Eyed Girl.

I love the idea of Whitley being a rival to Oscar. But believe it or not, I also like the idea of the two becoming allies too if possible. Whitley looks like he could use more people in his life that care about him besides his father. Maybe even Klein cares deeply for Whitley---the father figure he deserves but he just never acknowledges it. I think Oscar can be a good friend for Whitley.

While I don’t ship Rich Farmers as a relationship (proud RoseGardener over here), I do like the thought of them being a friendship. If Rubes becomes Oscar’s closest best friend, then can the precious farm boy begrudgingly become the snooty rich boy’s best friend or...the closest thing to it?

The kind of friendship that I imagine Oscar and Whitley having is the one where either originally hated each other’s guts but when you eliminate the object that made them butt heads in the first place (like Whitley pursuing Ruby and Oscar becoming jealous for of it), turns out the two might actually get along quite well. May even like each other...or at least respect the other enough to not kill them in their sleep when they piss them off.

An unlikely friendship that thrives on a shit ton of inside jokes and even more sarcastic quips at the other’s expense. The kind of friendship that makes others question why and how the two participants befriended each other when their attitude makes it seem like they hate each other when in actuality, they love each other like two inglorious bastard brothers bred from the same illegitimate father called anarchy.

So yeah, while I’m drawn to the concept of Whitley being a rival and a mini boss character, I’d also like to learn more about his character in hopes that he may be redeemed.

Though not much was revealed about Whitley back in V4, it did hint of there being more layers to him and I’m hoping we get to explore those layers once the group returns to Atlas.

I just don’t want for Whitley to be another throw away character who’s just there for the sake of moving the plot along or being an unnecessary red herring. I don’t want Whitley to be another Vernal or Professor Lionheart. Both characters had the potential for more, the writers just chose not to flesh them out before cutting straight to their inevitable deaths in the Haven Battle.

While very straightforward, this left me feeling more like these two characters were merely just plot devices rather than what they’re supposed to be---actual characters. While the CRWBY writers didn’t necessarily have to keep these characters around for future arcs, my complaint here is that they could’ve done a much better job at fleshing them out.

As I said, make them feel more like characters. Never mind that they were meant to die, at least make me care about their deaths.

I don’t want this to be the case with Whitley or any character during the Atlas Arc. Which is why I’m hoping that the Conclusion to the Mistral Arc in V6 leading into the Atlas Arc would be handled much better. Regarding Whitley, the writers have already established some keen plot points to assist with composing his part in ongoing story.

I just pray that Miles and Kerry learnt from their mistakes during the last two seasons and will work towards making sure that the seasons ahead are done much better.

Despite being painting as this conniving person, when I recall V4, I don’t remember Whitley actually doing anything that’d suggest that. As a matter of fact, all the allegations that Weiss made about Whitley were pointed out by her without the show visually showing that he committed these crimes. There was a lot of ‘Tell. Not Show’ for volumes 4 and 5 and I sincerely hope this is a habit that the CRWBY will drop for the upcoming V6.

They could’ve easily not have given Weiss a brother at all. This is the thing though. Why was Whitley introduced? In the scope of things, his character wasn’t really necessary because the past seasons had already established the tension of Weiss’ relationship with Jacques and that was enough to drive her own arc during the V4 Split.

It’s not like Whitley’s introduction in V4 actually acted as a good catalyst for the events that happened to Weiss during the season that lead to her outburst at the charity ball after party to her fall out with Jacques to even her departure.

Did Whitley give Weiss the brilliant idea to present an expensive painting as part of an auction to help raise funds for Beacon, knowing full well that Weiss would fail in that regard? No.

.Did Jacques give Weiss reason to bring up the painting during their fight so that Weiss could have leverage to make mention that Whitley supported her in her idea only for the boy to turn on Weiss in the moment and take Jacques side, showing just how two faced he could be? Nope. The charity painting and the Atlesian Elite’s total disregard for the People in Vale following the Fall of Beacon was what drove Weiss to spiral out of control the way she did. Whitley Schnee played no part in that scene yet somehow Weiss blamed him like her being punished by Jacques was his doing when really...what did he do though?

Seriously. In the grander scope of things, Whitley did nothing for V4 except talk. And even when he did talk it’s not like he was being a clever snake, whispering in Weiss’ ear and encouraging her to pursue her own personal ideas that in hindsight, would please her but knowingly irk Jacques.

 Nope. All he did was play nice the entire time yet when Jacques took away her heiress status, there was Weiss accusing Whitley of being devious the entire time and there he was smiling and acting like this was all true. But in reality, nothing happened on screen to prove this.

You could remove Whitley from the story in V4 and the plot wouldn’t have played out any differently. I’m sorry to say this for all the diehard Whitley fans in the FNDM but his character added nothing more for V4 beyond giving Weiss a punching bag to point fingers at for the consequences of her own actions against Jacques; which wasn’t even necessary. Up until V4, there has been no prior mention of Weiss ever having a brother. We knew she had Winter since her debut in V3 and we knew of Jacques because he was already established as the authoritarian father she was trying to avoid. The one whose crimes she constantly found herself having to pay for and whose royal test she had to shoulder.

But there was never any mentioning of Whitley at all. Neither Schnee sisters didn’t even comment about Whitley being in the picture during their one on one talk before Winter’s leave in V3 C6. Jacques was mentioned, naturally. But no Whitley.

So then why does his character exist? What are the CRWBY writers’ setting him up to truly be? Is he indeed the proverbial black sheep of the siblings, driven by the negativity of feeling abandoned by both of his older sisters or...will he be the diamond in the rough---a conniving trickster on the surface but his trickery is merely another one of his acts to conceal the ambitions of more caring soul.

Whatever it is, I hope it isn’t another poor plot device and actually fits within the context of the story and the overall direction the Atlas Arc is leading towards.

So to conclude...

As I’ll say again, I don’t want Whitley to be another Vernal or Lionheart otherwise it’d just be boring. If he does have a bigger role to play, I hope it’s a well conducted one that gives him more depth than what was glimpsed in V4.

I’m even hoping for a twist or perhaps twists with his character like what I theorized. Overall, whatever Whitley’s story is, I hope it’s handled with enough tact to leave his fans happy and satisfied.

♦ More RWBY Musings by Squiggles

~LittleMissSquiggles (2018)

[purplechaosguardian]

Ducktales Reader Insert Chapter 1-  Woo-oo Pt1

Bored. Bored. BORED. That’s really all you could use to describe your current situation. Huh, you’d think you would never say that, especially being in the McDuck Manor. But you were. Your dad worked at the Money Bin,leaving you here until it was time to go home. You left your phone at home, and it wasn’t like there was anything that wouldn’t guarantee certain death that you could mess around with. To top it all off, you hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Webby all morning. She at least was good company and your best friend, even though she could be a little…….intense. Oh well, it was better being with your grandmother. Those speeches about how you should act in her eyes, always gave you a headache. At least your dad wasn’t like that.

Deciding to go look for your lil’ sis (and hopefully murder your boredom in cold blood), you began to investigate one of the hallways. After checking a couple of doors, you heard something that sounded a bit like crying and muffled talking coming from one of them. Did somebody get locked in? You couldn’t leave someone like that. You had to get them out. You backed up as far as you could go, feeling your heels touching the wall. You ran as fast as you could, hitting the door with your shoulder, successfully letting yourself in, to see three boys on the floor, covered in rope. Brothers by the looks of it. And little surprise, Webby had a knife. “What in the-“ A loud gasp was heard, and you were hit the chest by an energetic ball of feathers. Webby looked up at you with big smile, and a big hug. “Hi (Y/n)!” You chuckled and patted her on the head “Heya, Webbs. Is this what you’ve been up to all morning?” “Yeah, they’re the nephews!” You smiled, let go of your lil sis so she could get over her fangirling, and went over to help the boys. You pulled the rope off them, and helped them stand up right. “Sorry about that. She’s really nice when you get to know her. My name’s (Y/n). And that’s Webby.”  The one in red got up first “I’m Huey. That’s Dewey and Louie” he gestured to a boy in blue shirt over a lighter blue long sleeve and another in a green hoodie, respectively. The three looked to be about Webby’s age.

Huey looked back to you. “So (Y/n),how does Web-“ Webby returned, with her fangirling at full force. “What are your blood types? What's Donald really like? Who's the evil triplet?” Huey and Dewey responded at the same time “Louie.” Louie just shrugged it off with a “Meh.” “Tell me everything!” “Wait, Webby, not that ca-“ you tried to warn before a bright flash went off. “-mera”. Ugh, That always stung your eyes. The picture was a bit funny, though. The boys tried to explain, that they were just a normal family on a boat, but Webby proved that wrong the conspiracy board. Ah, the conspiracy board, with Matilda as their great-great aunt, you think? Eh, terms outside side of cousins and parents confused you. You watched as the photo was tacked up and attached to the board with red thread. You were on the board too. It was a picture of you and Webby, although you both looked much younger. You have a copy of that photo, hanging in a place of honor on your bedroom wall.

You decide to tune back into the conversation where Huey was asking if Webby would them live and a vent was now opened. What in the wor-eh that’s what you get for zoning out. Now into the vent that smells like someone just died in there!

After a few twists and desperately trying to avoid spiders, you all made it out. You and Webby a bit more gracefully than the others. “Neither of you get out much do you?” Huey asked “Granny’s a bit overprotective. She trains me for anything and says I have everything I need in here.” “And my dad doesn’t think I’m ready to go handle Duckburg on my own yet. But one day, we’re gonna see the world and be explorers!” You responded. Webby strikes a pose to match the statue behind her. “I’m gonna eat a hamburger.” Huey walks by with an amused grin. “We could bring you guys some hamburgers.” Webby has the biggest grin on her face. “You guys really are our best friends”. And that’s when you notice Dewey climbing out of the vent. You might have not known Dewey for a long time, but you could tell something wasn’t right, and your big sibling instincts kicked in. You reached across to grab his shoulder and gave him a concerned look. “Are you ok?” He gave you a strained smile. “Yeah.” You weren’t gonna push it. And you can’t really blame him for not opening up to you yet, you’ve only known each other for like 20 minutes.

You guys arrived at the Wing of Secrets. It was a pretty cool place,sure, but it was always musty and smelled like motor oil in there for some reason. You decided to follow Huey around, from the portrait of the shaved bear to the Gong of Peshu. Huey didn’t seem to mind. You did run over to Louie when he was about to place a green sticky note onto an old gauntlet. “I wouldn’t touch that if I were you. It’s a Medusa Gauntlet. It can turn living things to stone with a single touch.” Behind you, Webby made sounds that you think that the transformation might sound like. Huey was going on about incredible this place is, and it was, and Dewey called all of our attention over to a painting. It was one of your favorites, with Scrooge sword fighting a pirate, Donald swinging from a mast by a rope, and your dad was in there too. He was swinging towards the ghost with a rope as well, about to kick the pirate with a determined look on his face. “Is that Uncle Donald?” Huey questioned. “Oh, yeah! He was Mr. McDuck’s sidekick” Webby responded enthusiastically. “Dewey’s right.” “Totally fake.” “Uncle Donald has never done anything cool.” Webby looked shocked for a moment and went on about how Donald was a hero. You wondered what he was up to now. Probably had a job somewhere, like your dad. You chuckled. Something about Donald having a regular job was just funny to you. “Wait who’s that?” You realized that Huey was pointing towards your dad. Webby looked really excited. “That’s Gustavo Pondsly! He was one of the bravest and smartest adventurers of all time!” Louie looked a bit confused. “What happened to him?” Webby gave you an eager look when you decided to continue. “Well, he met a woman and the two had a child. But the woman died while the child was only a baby. He didn’t really see any reason to go on adventures after that, not when he had a child to take care of.” Huey looked at your curiously. “And how do you know all that?” Webby was doing little hops, eagerly awaiting for you to drop the bombshell. You smiled. “Well that woman was my mom, and Gustavo Pondsly is my dad. And that baby was me.” “Oh. I’m-I’m so sorry.” Huey responded. You give him a smile and a gentle nudge. “Don't worry about it. It all happened a while ago.”

Meanwhile in the background, there was screaming. The two of you turned to see the other three sprint away from a pirate ghost. You grab Huey and and hide behind some old boxes, as the Deus Ex Caliber flies around the room. And the sword hits the gong. When Louie sits on a saddle,it turns into a headless man horse. And it hits the gong again. “That’s twice!” Dewey exclaimed. “One more and something terrible could happen!” You say. “What could be worse than this?” Louie responded. As if on cue, Scrooge walked into the room. “There it is.” The brothers all have defeated looks, while you simply stuck a hand up in greeting. Than back to the chaos, as you all took cover behind what you think was a Mayan Calendar. You look back on your friends. “It’s okay guys. There’s 5 of us and three of them. If we-“ Huey cut you off “Actually (Y/n), they teamed up.” So the pirate ghost was riding a headless horse while wielding a magic sword. Honestly, not the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you, but it’s up in top ten somewhere. Scrooge managed to take out the whatever that was. It was amazing! Just like those stories your dad told you! But honestly the look on his face made you want to face all of that again. And when this place turned out to be a garage, that honestly explained the motor oil smell. Note to self; don’t light a match in here.

Enraged by all of our actions, Scrooge hit the gong with his cane. Ah, geeze. Noticing your expressions, Scrooge came to the realization that it was already hit twice. Sensing something bad was gonna happen, you shoved the other four behind you in a protective manner. Peshu came out of his statue, and creating a hole in the ceiling. “Peshu. The gold hunting dragon.” Webby said in awe. “Gold hunting? Sounds great!” You heard Louie say. “Not when you’re Duckburg’s single largest owner of gold!” Huey responded. Which meant it would head towards the Money Bin. Which meant-oh no. Dad!

While Scrooge ordered us to go to our rooms, I start to head out. “Where are you going?” Huey asked. “I’ve gotta stop that dragon. My dad works in the Money Bin!” My friends all give me confident looks and I knew that they were going to tag along. And thankfully, a pilot worked here. Before we left, I grabbed the Garden Hose of Destiny. Just in case.

Once we were up in the air, it didn’t take us long to find Scrooge and catch him before he had a watery grave. “I thought I told to go back to your-“  “No time, we gotta work fast.” Dewey cut Scrooge off. I turned to my little sis. “Webby, how do we stop that thing?” “It’s mystical, so we need a mystical device. Like an Oblivion Mirror or a Medusa Gauntlet or a-“ “Like this?” And wouldn’t you know it, Louie pulls the glove from behind his back. Huey and Webby grumbled, while I raised an eyebrow. “What? I was gonna give it back. Now how are we gonna get him down there?” I pull something out of my backpack. “Garden Hose of Destiny!” Huey tells Launchpad the rest of the plan, while the four of use wrap Scrooge up in the hose. And the only thing that was on his mind was “Since when was Launchpad a pilot?” We managed to defeat the thing, but Dewey lost his grip on the hose, causing Scrooge to start free falling, but had a perfect dive into the Money Bin. It was awesome! And than Launchpad crashed. Should have seen that coming. Thankfully, no one was hurt

“In the short time I’ve known you, you wrecked my home and money bin, unleashed several ancient evils, and almost got me killed. Twice!” He paced in front of use while we were sitting on a beam. “Four times, if you count each monster as an individual time…” Huey trailed off as Scrooge looked over us. And then he started laughing! “That was incredible!” He sat in the middle of us in the beam. “When you pulled me into the airplane and said ‘No time’!” He pointed at Dewey, and the younger was looking very proud of himself. “And who would have thought! A Medusa Gauntlet! Brilliant!” Webby had a shy smile on her face. “And using a garden hose as a rope! And mastering your hammer space at such a young age! You’re a resourceful and clever laddie/lassie, just like your father!” He pointed to me, and I had the biggest smile on my face. “Oh, and you swung me out and pulled me up just in time and-“ There was more laughter and Huey and Louie had identical grins. “You kids are nothing but trouble! Curse me kilts, have I missed trouble.” He pulls out a flip phone from his hammer space. “I suppose I’ll have to keep an eye on you to teach you how to get into trouble properly.” “You mean-?” Dewey eagerly starts. “Beakley! Clear my schedule! I’m taking the wee ones on a field trip.” He turns back to you. “Now, let’s go find the lost city of Atlantis!” “Yeah!” “And no one tell your Uncle Donald!” “YEAH!” “Who is that?”

[shsl-shipper-gamer-fangirl]

Trigger Happy Persona AU

What do you do in the face of ultimate despair? You get freaking pissed off and awaken your persona! Play as Hajime [codename “Ace”] who seems average at first until he awakens his second persona and becomes Izuru [codename “Blackjack”]. But the game isn’t complete without the strength of bonds and so enter Chiaki [codename “Bonnie”] who seems aloof by nature until she rips off her mask and summons an 8-bit spaceship!

**Please DO NOT edit, use, or repost any of these! Thank you!

HOLD UP! 

More AU concept art [thank you @likhangjosa] and info dump under the cut!!

Chiaki Nanami Codename: Usami or Bonnie Arcana: Star

Mask: Pink and covers the upper part of her face, with long bunny ears on top, down to a bunny nose with whiskers

Outfit: Sci-fi magical girl look with the color scheme of white, pink, and blue-grey. Wears a hoodie-cardigan (that has holes for the bunny ears to go through) and a Galaga ship (or Usami logo) embroidered on the chest. Sports a flowing translucent galaxy print circle skirt, knee-high boots with leggings and white gloves. Has a pink cat-like backpack where she stores her weapons and gaming consoles. The look is complete with a cottontail clipped on her belt.

Persona: Galaga (8-bit ship get wrekt) Skillset: Strong gun and bless attacks but weak to curse Weapons: Two-handed hammer and minigun

All-Out Attack Card: "Game Over" written in bit font and with videogame style background. Her catchphrase would be "New highscore!"

Awakening Scene: Galaga: Is that the hope that you fight for? Doesn't it seem meaningless in the face of adversity? After all, what's the point if people just betray you in the end?

Chiaki: Even if I'm betrayed again, I still want to believe in everyone. No matter how many times I may be betrayed...I still want to believe in everyone!

Galaga: Despite the despair thrown in your face, you show unwavering faith. That trust is something that you'll need... as well as my blessing. I am thou, thou art I... A better future is waiting for you but in order to reach it you must trust that it is indeed possible.

Chiaki: As long as I believe, things will turn out okay! Let's show them, Galaga!

Quotes: "That was easy. Shall we get going Hajime?" "I could *yawn* go for a nap right now..." "Yosh, I leveled up!" “New skill unlocked! Let’s test it out ASAP!” "A treasure chest! *zelda sfx*" "Move! I've always wanted to open a treasure chest!" "A safe room. Let's take it easy and save first, alright?" “Dungeon crawling never gets old especially in RPGs.” "I feel like I can do a speedrun on this dungeon." “I don’t mind overdoing it a bit.” "Sorry, my stamina stat is running low." "There's a nearby enemy. Grind mode?" “*metal gear solid alert! sfx* We’ve been spotted!” or “Stealth mode blown!” "I felt the LVL gap in that." “Don’t worry, we’re already OP.” "I think we need more EXP to defeat that." “Better prepare so that we don’t get a BAD END.” “*yawn* Where’s Hard Mode?” “Victory! Isn’t this the part where we’re supposed to do a pose?”

*BATON PASS!* "Usami/Bonnie hopping in!" *PROTECT* "Ace! Look out!" *ENDURE* "I... don't want to die!" *PERSONA!* "Summoning reinforcement, Galaga!" *Follow Up* "How about a combo?" *Cover Fire* "Need some support?" *Harisen Recovery* "Don't give in!" or "You're stronger than this!" *low on health* "I'll be fine... probably." *healing someone* "Don't lose hope!" or "You've got this!" *getting healed* "Thanks for the heal!" *giving buffs* "This will make us stronger, I think." *physical attacks* "It's Hammer time!", "I'll smash you flat!", "Time to knock you out of the park!" *attacking* "We'll beat you for sure!" *attack misses* “Accuracy stats are… off?” *couldn't finish off enemy* "I believe you can do this!" *fainting* "I'm sorry... I wanted to protect everyone, no matter what the cost." *getting resurrected* “Thanks, I needed that extra life.”

*status ailment* "Maybe a quick nap can fix this..." Burn: "I'm overheating! Somebody turn on the AC!" Freeze: “Brrr, it’s too c-cold! Is the thermostat broken again?” Shock: "Need... to turn... the rumble off...!" Forget: "Am I a boy...? Or a girl...?" Charm: “Friendly fire mode on.” Rage: “I’ll button mash you to pieces!” Despair: "The difficulty level... it's too high...!" Hunger: "Did I forget to eat again...?" Dizzy: "My controls are all messed up...!" Sleep: “Zzz… Recharging batteries... zzz…” Silence: ... Mouse: "Squeak~!"

Mementos chats: "Ace is a really good driver. If only racing game skills could transfer to real life..." “Maybe I should start naming my combo attacks…” “Sometimes I wish this was one of those games with unlimited ammo.” “This accessory looks ridiculous but it lets me dodge my weakness so I’m not complaining.” “Games are fun but slaying shadows is fun in its own way too.” “Being a Dangan Thief is like a videogame fantasy… but in real life!” “Real life is the True Hard Mode because the stats are invisible. But that’s okay since we know it’s not Impossible Mode.”

Chiaki: What we’re doing feels like we’re in a videogame. Hajime: It’s a good thing that you’re the Ultimate Gamer then.

Chiaki: Do you ever stop to think if we’re all just trapped in some game? Hajime: No, next question.

Chiaki: *stomach growls* Hajime: Were you so busy playing that you forgot to eat again?

Chiaki: *yawns* Wake me up when we run into a Shadow... or something. Hajime: Did you pull another all-nighter over videogames again?

Chiaki: I run out of money too fast. I had to pre-order another game last night on top of the ones I ordered just the other night. Hajime: Hey, I know we make a lot of money but please don’t spend it all on videogames.

Chiaki: It’s a disappointing that electronic devices don’t work in the cognitive world. Hajime: Don’t you already play enough videogames in real life?

Chiaki: All this Dangan Thieves stuff is cutting into my schedule. Thankfully I’ve compromised with my other priorities and my gaming hours are still untouched. Hajime: Is that why you’ve been dozing off more often? Please tell me you’re at least getting enough sleep because this can’t be healthy.

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

Hajime Hinata Codename(s): Ahoge  Ace, Blackjack, Dealer

*NOTE: Instead of having multiple personas, Hajime only has one and a second dormant persona. Consequently, whenever he changes persona, he also changes mask and outfit (and personality?) and codename. [e.g. Hajime accidentally summons Izuru, from Ace he becomes Blackjack.]

Codename: Ace Arcana: Fool or Judgement Mask: White domino mask with card aesthetic. The suites displayed change according to the skill type used. [e.g. Spades for physical, Club for elemental, Diamonds for almighty, Hearts for healing and buffs, Joker for status ailment] Outfit: Simple black tailcoat, white inner shirt, matching black formal pants and monk strap shoes. Emerald necktie and gloves. Persona: [starting and only] ??? Skillset: Strong slash and (surprisingly) curse attacks and weak against bless All-Out Attack Card: “Royal Flush” written with a casino table in the background. Catchphrase is “Keep your cards close to your chest!”

Codename: Blackjack Arcana: Death Mask: Plague doctor mask and his red eyes glow through the glass lenses Outfit: Maroon steampunk trench coat with a spine designed on the back and black cuffs and fancy cravat. Inner shirt is black with a textile print and large buttons. Bright red gloves, black trousers and Cuban heeled boots. Persona: [dormant unlockable] Izuru Kamukura Skillset: Strong for all types of attacks except bless skills which is the only weakness. Null physical attacks. All-Out Attack Card: “Card Counter” written with a house of cards in the background. Catchphrase is “How boring…”

Codename: Dealer Arcana: The World Mask: Black bird-shaped mask but the sides of the frame look like wings Outfit: [He has the same spiky hair but white and his eyes are heterochromatic.] White long sleeves with red cuffs, red vest, black bow tie and slacks. Black wingtips for shoes and white gloves. Persona: [hidden ultimate fusion] Hinazuru Skillset: Master of all types attacks. Repel physical and null bless/curse skills All-Out Attack Card: “Wild Card” written with scattered cards and poker chips in the background. Catchphrase is “This is the future that we want!”

Weapons: Dual wield daggers and dual wield pistols

>>>Special thanks to @crazynoodles69 for being a tarot card master and divining Chiaki’s arcana. GIVE IT UP FOR MY SIS WHO WENT ALONG AND DREW AMAZING STUFF FOR THIS. The actual lore happened because @ponsay-de-leon and I had too much fun. Then because I am a monster who has no common sense of liking anything in moderation, this happened. 

Feel free to add on and have fun with this AU!

[heckin-good-holland-blog]

The Same Costume

Request:  Hello! I was wondering if you could make a drabble for peter parker x reader where its halloween and reader and her friends dress up as "sexy" avengers and she's dressed up as spiderman? You can do whatever relationship status with pete, whether it be crushes or girlfriend, etc.... thank you so much!

Warnings: None!!

Pairing: Female Reader x Peter Parker

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: THIS IS SO BAD PLS DONT FIGHT ME I’ve been so busy and nothing was coming to me so I tried my best :’)

This is just kinda something to break up my mini hiatus so I’m not going to add the tags to this one !! (p.s 70 days until Halloween)

“Peter, would you stop spacing out and pay attention to me for a second?” Ned’s voice snapped Peter out of his daydream and he quickly looked up to see he best friend waving at him. Ned had been going on and on about his project for Robotics Lab so eventually Peter had just tuned him out.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “I am paying attention. What’s up?” Ned let out a long sigh and pointed over to the group of girls standing in the lunch line. Peter noticed almost immediately that you were one of the members of the group and averted his eyes. You looked really nice today with your hair pulled back and he felt his face begin to heat up.

“I heard that there’s going to be an awesome Halloween party at Bethany’s house tonight. Y/N is friends with her so I was thinking we could ask her to score us some invites?” Ned explained. You, Ned, and Peter had American Literature together and all got along really well. You had your other friends, of course, but you also liked to hang out with the two of them whenever you could. You had a lot of things in common with them surprisingly, and Peter felt a connection with you right away. He had developed quite the crush on you, although you were oblivious to it.

“I don’t know, Ned,” he said, pushing the thoughts out of his mind. “Parties aren’t really our thing.”

“But Y/N will be there!” he exclaimed. “We haven’t seen her outside of school in so long. Besides, it’s a costume party. You know how much I love those!”

“Fine,” Peter finally gave in, “but you have to be the one to ask her.” Ned beamed and waited until you looked in their direction before flailing his arms around to get your attention. You laughed, quickly excusing yourself to go and talk to him.

“Hey guys,” you said with a grin. “What’s going on? If you’re gonna ask to copy my English homework you’re out of luck because I didn’t do it either.” Peter’s heart rate was doubling as each moment passed, and he tried his best not to stare.

“Actually, it’s about Bethany’s party!” Ned piped up. “Are you going to be there?”

“I sure am!” you replied. “My friends and I are all coordinating our costumes, it’s gonna be fun. Are you two going? It would be so great to see you there.”

“W-we don’t have an official invite,” Peter stammered. Your smile grew even wider, making his stomach flip.

“Well then, consider this it,” you laughed. “You have to go in costume though. It’s a tradition and, as weird as it seems, you’d stick out more if you weren’t wearing something dumb.” The bell rang as you finished, cutting your conversation short. You waved goodbye to them, leaving Peter staring after you in awe. He couldn’t believe that he was actually going through with this. He could vaguely hear Ned babbling endlessly about last minute costume ideas, but he was only half listening since you were occupying all of his thoughts.

Peter had no idea how he found himself standing at the front door of some random girl’s house wearing a Luke Skywalker costume later that night, but for some reason he did. He turned to Ned, who was dressed as a very unconvincing Yoda. He was a jumble of nerves, feeling extremely self conscious, meanwhile Ned was having the time of his life. It was finally an excuse for him to whip out his Star Wars merchandise and he couldn’t have been more excited. Peter reached out and hesitantly rang the doorbell, already regretting every decision he had made thus far. His breath caught in his throat when you were the one to answer the door.

“Peter! Ned! I’m so glad you guys made it!” you exclaimed happily. Peter couldn’t help but stare, his jaw dropping. You were wearing a skin tight Spider-Man body suit with thigh-high boots, showing off every single one of your assets. Your eyes gleamed from behind your small mask and Peter noticed the slight tinge of pink on your cheeks. He suddenly realized that he had been staring shamelessly and tore his eyes away, embarrassed.

“H-hi Y/N,” he said, trying to keep things casual. “Nice costume. I uh… I didn’t know you liked Spider-Man. That’s cool, he seems like a good guy.” Ned nudged him a little, and Peter quickly stopped talking.

“Oh, yeah,” you laughed. “My idea was that my friends and I should go as the Avengers, but as you can see they took it a little differently. Technically I don’t think Spider-Man counts, but I really like him so that’s who I picked. I think it turned out pretty cute, you like it?”

“Y-yeah I think it’s… nice,” Peter squeaked. He cleared his throat, cringing at his own awkwardness. You giggled and let them inside, leading them into the kitchen. You were talking with Ned about something relating to The Force Awakens, but Peter couldn’t focus. He was totally distracted by the way you walked, the way your outfit accentuated your curves, and just generally how fantastic you looked in the Spider-Man suit. His suit. Well, something similar to it at least.

“What do you think Peter?” you asked, looking at him expectantly. He froze, not having any idea what you had been talking about. His mind went blank and he started to panic a little.

“Sorry, could you excuse me for a second?” he said breathlessly, turning and rushing past you.

“I should probably go after him,” Ned said to you as you watched him leave. “Parties aren’t really his thing. We’ll be back in a little bit.” He went off in pursuit of his friend, already knowing exactly what was going on. Peter found an unoccupied room and ducked inside, running his hands through his hair. He jumped when the door opened, but relaxed when he saw it was Ned. They stood in silence for a moment, just sort of letting him cool down.

“Peter, you have to tell her you’re Spider-Man!” Ned blurted out.

“Shh!” Peter gave him a severe look and looked around nervously. “What if somebody hears you?”

“But this is the perfect time!” he whined. “You heard her, she really likes you! Besides, you haven’t taken your eyes off of her ass since we got here. You have to make a move.”

“You’re crazy,” Peter said, although he had to admit he was considering it. Ned noticed this and his face lit up.

“I’ll tell her to meet you outside down the road in 5 minutes. Now’s your chance, Parker! Don’t blow it.” He ran out of the room, leaving Peter there with really no other options. He fumbled with his costume, pulling the suit out from his backpack that he never left home without. With the suit on he felt a lot more sure of himself and carefully climbed out the window quietly. From up on the roof he could see you walking outside, shivering a little in the cold October air. You stumbled a bit, still not used to walking in your heels. Peter smiled as he watched you go. He slowly followed, careful not to make his presence known.

“Hello?” you called, a little on edge since it had already gotten pretty dark. You tugged nervously on your costume, the tight fabric starting to chafe a little. Peter took a deep breath and built up the confidence to say something.

“Uh… hi,” he said, trying to pose in a non-creepy way as if he hadn’t been following her.

“Oh, you’re here!” you exclaimed as you whirled around but stopped dead when you saw it was Spider-Man. It wasn’t even one of those cheap costumes, it was the actual Spider-Man. You recognized all of the details of the suit, details that couldn’t be replicated. Your eyes widened and you quickly pulled the mask that you wore off.

“I-I think that’s one hell of a costume,” he said. “I’m not sure if I’d wear it, but the effort was there.”

“Sorry, is this weird for you? I mean, I bet it is. I didn’t mean for it to be offensive but I also wasn’t really expecting to see Spider-Man out here, you know? I can take it off. No, actually I can’t that would make it so much worse.” you rambled nervously. Behind his mask Peter couldn’t have been smiling any wider. Seeing you so flustered and shocked was really cute and he was loving it.

“I’m not offended at all, it’s the opposite really,” he laughed. “Why are you out here all by yourself without a jacket?”

“I’m actually waiting for someone,” you told him. “He’s great. He’s in my class and we’re friends but I want to ask him if he wants to go out- Oh wait, sorry you probably don’t care about that part. Forget I said that.” Now it was Peter’s turn to be flustered. 

“No, no it’s fine! Do you… Do you like him?”

“I mean, a little,” you admitted. “Don’t tell him, okay? Not that you would, you’re Spider-Man, but still.” Peter nodded slowly, taking a step back.

“Your secret is safe with me,” he said. “I have to go, I think I hear someone calling for help…” He looked behind his shoulder, pretending to pick up on something.

“I don’t hear anything,” you said curiously.

“No, trust me. Someone’s having a bad night, I should go help. Good luck with that Peter guy, I’m sure he’s nice. Hope things work out.” With that, he shot off into the trees leaving you there alone. You flipped your mask over in your hands, trying to ignore the fact that you had never mentioned Peter’s name to him and that Spider-Man had a very similar voice.