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#the bright green was hurting my eyes so here's a softer shade <3
wolfchans · 5 months
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redrobin-detective · 3 years
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all is well
Death is nothing at all, I have only slipped into the next room I am I and you are you Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. ~ Henry Scott Hollard
AO3 link
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He hadn’t meant to say it, that much was clear. As much as she wanted to hate him for it, claim it was some sort of cruel manipulation; she knew he was just as distressed as she was. The ghost boy had covered his mouth, bright green eyes wide with panic as his misspoken words brought their battle to a screeching halt. Even the ghost the three hunters had been fighting stopped and stared before flying off. No one moved to stop them. Phantom looked at her fearfully, then over at her companion before vanishing without a trace.
It was a slip of the tongue, an accident, so why did the ghost boy calling her Mom make her blood run so cold?
“I’ve knew a kid who called the teacher Mom one time but I’ve never heard it from a ghost,” the Red Huntress said with a sarcastic chuckle. But her shoulders were tense and it was clear the situation made her uncomfortable too. “You okay, Mrs. Fenton?”
“My son isn’t dead,” Maddie said quietly. She would admit there were times where she’d look at Phantom and see Danny overlaid on top of him but those moments were becoming more and more rare. Maddie liked to think it’s because she could find more differences than similarities between the two but honestly, she couldn’t say who her son was anymore. She saw this damned ghost more than she saw the child living in her own house.
“I know, I’ve seen him around,” Huntress said with steady conviction. It made Maddie pause, as it always did, to wonder just how old Amity’s other human ghost hunter really was. Or how young rather. “It was a mistake, he’ll probably avoid you for a bit out of embarrassment but then things will go back to normal.”
“Yeah, a mistake,” Maddie muttered to herself, finally lowering the gun even though the fighting had ended several minutes ago. Why was this whole thing so unsettling to her? Phantom had said much worse things to her, called her a fake scientist and more obsessive than a ghost. He’d even called her a bad mother once when he’d been particularly riled up. She remembered how offended and angry his unnatural eyes had been as they’d glared accusingly into her.  
“You know his parents are still alive,” Huntress said suddenly. “I found out by accident a little while ago.” She was still standing on her hoverboard about 3 feet off the ground, her gaze was trained away from Maddie. “They don’t know that he’s a ghost, that he’s Phantom,” the girl’s head was still turned away from Maddie but she had a feeling she was being watched none the less. “Maybe you remind him of his mother.”
Maddie felt liked she’d been slapped.
“And why does that matter to you?” she questioned defensively to cover how much the conversation was shaking her - they didn’t know how could they not know, how could they not miss - “I thought you hated him as much as we did.”
“I don’t like him,” the Huntress said vehemently. “He’s annoying and acts like he’s the only hunter in this town who can actually do the job. But I,” she paused, “I think I understand him, just a little bit. Enough that I’ve been combing through Amity’s missing children files in my spare time. Of course, it’s no good if no one reported him missing in the first place. Phantom doesn’t want me prying but it’s not right for a kid to die and no one to care.”
“He’s just a ghost,” Maddie said, her words weak even to her ears. Was that why Phantom was stuck here? Because he died forgotten and unmourned? The thought of one of her children, her babies, dying without her knowing... she was going to be sick.
“Yeah, he is,” Huntress nodded, “but he wasn’t always. And humans deserve to be remembered, even if they don’t want to be.” That said, the girl sped off into the setting sun, the varying shades of orange glinting off of her suit. Maddie stood in the middle of the street for a little while longer, gun pointed limply at the ground as her whole world spun.
She drove home slowly, taking the long way around to try and put her conflicting feelings into words before she talked to her husband. When she and Jack first began their research into ghosts, they told themselves that they had to divorce themselves from the people the ghosts had been before. If you focused on the lingering traces of humanity in every monster then they would never be put in their place. But she was human and she had kids around the ghost boy’s age, despite her attempts to stick to logic her heart ached with sympathy.
“And you call yourself a mother,” the Phantom in her memory spat at her, filled with hatred but underneath it all was grief. “Where are your kids now? All you care about is the dead but when are you going to care for the living?” Maddie tightened her grip on the steering wheel to keep her hands from shaking.
“Mads! You’re home!” Jack grinned enthusiastically as she quietly entered the house. “Jazzy has her nose in her books and you know Danny, in and up to his room without a word so I made us grilled cheese!” He held her a plate with a flourish, “they’re ghost shaped!” The world tilted itself a little more onto it’s proper axis, no matter how crazy things got, Jack would always be her true north.
“Gracias,” she said accepting the plate. “Can we talk, privately?” She gestured her head down to the basement. Conversations from the kitchen could easily be heard upstairs and she really didn’t want her children to overhear her asking if she was a bad mom. She didn’t want their confirmation that she was right.
Jack’s goofy grinned smoothed out into something softer and he put one hand gently on her back as they walked down to basement. He kicked her usual stool her way and they sat in silence while they ate their dinners, staring at the swirling vortex of the portal.
“You remember that time Phantom called me a neglectful mother?” Maddie asked quietly after a few minutes.
“Mads, you can’t let that sneaky spook get to you. Everyone knows you’re a great-”
“Jack,” she interrupted harsher than she needed to but she didn’t need comfort from a husband but the unbiased opinion of a fellow scientist. “He accidentally called me Mom while we were fighting today, I don’t - I don’t think he meant it, he looked more scared then I’ve ever seen him before he ran off. Huntress was there too, she said.” Maddie gripped her plate tightly in her hands. “She said that Phantom’s family is still alive, that they don’t know about him.”
“Not know? You mean about him being-”
“Apparently,” Maddie squeezed her eyes shut to fight off the unwanted sympathy she felt. “He’s always been the Ghost Boy, the Ghost Kid. I never - I never fully absorbed what that meant. He looks,” Maddie set the plate aside and dropped her head into her hands. “He’s about Danny’s age.”
“Maddie,” Jack said softly, setting aside his own plate and wheeling himself closer. “Whoever that boy was, he’s gone now and all that’s left is an echo, an obnoxious and powerful echo but he’s not... he’s not a child. Not anymore.”
“But he remembers,” Maddie gasped, angry she was letting herself get all worked up over a stupid ghost. “He called me Mom, Jack. Huntress, she said maybe I reminded him of her and,” her eyes filled with tears now. “He’s comparing me to someone who didn’t even notice that he’d died. What does that say about me? About my relationship with our children? I feel like all I do is argue with Jazz these days and god knows where Danny goes to half the time-”
“Maddie, don’t do that to yourself,” Jack said softly, tilting her face up towards him with a gloved hand. “Once you go down that rabbit hole, there’s no digging yourself out. I think it’s just part of being a parent, always worrying that you’re not doing things right. Sometimes,” Jack gaze dropped, troubled. “Sometimes I enter the room and Danny looks at me and freezes like he expects me to do something terrible... He’s just easily startled but it still hurts.”
“Phantom is an echo, not a child,” Maddie nodded quietly to herself, trying to fall back on her usual logic but it tasted wrong in her mouth. He was a ghost... but also a child. “I wonder what he was like when he was alive? His personality seems remarkably preserved, he must have been a vibrant young man.”
“Or his death was particularly traumatic,” Jack mumbled. “Painful deaths usually leave powerful ghosts. And most healthy teens don’t just drop dead for nothing.”  A chill fell over the lab.
“How could they not notice?” Maddie whispered with horror. “What sort of parent wouldn’t see that their child was dead, what? Now two years in?”
“Not everyone is as good a mom as you are, Mads,” Jack said, pulling her into his chest. “Neglectful parents are a dime a dozen sadly. He could’ve been a runaway too, ran off and died leaving his folks still holding out hope that he’d come home. Or maybe...” he frowned, “maybe he’s pretending he’s still alive.”
“No, he couldn’t keep the charade for this long,” Maddie gasped but the horrible idea had been planted none the less. Phantom always seemed in such a hurry, like he had somewhere else to be. Was another woman tapping her feet as she waited for her boy to return like Maddie often did, not knowing her child was long gone?
“He’s a wily one, incredibly solid for a spirit. Sometimes I look at him and swear I see his chest moving like he’s breathing. Dampen his glow, dye the hair, change his clothes, he could probably pass as human so long as you didn’t look too close.”
“Jack,” she pulled back and looked at her husband in a panic. “Jack, if he’s pretending to be human when he’s not fighting then there’s a good chance he goes to Casper.” Her and Jack’s eyes widened with realization at the same time.
Their children’s high school has had an unprecedented amount of ghost attacks since the portal opened. They could never figure out why the ghosts targeted that school and ignored the other elementary, middle or even the other public high, Wendy. “What are we going to do, should we pull out Danny and Jazz? Even just until we figure this out.”
“That might tip the ghost off,” Jack said evenly but his teeth were biting into his cheek with worry. “We don’t want to set him off, who knows what he’d do if his cover was blown.” He might look like a harmless teen but Maddie had seen first hand how devastating Phantom could be when threatened. “I think we should tell the kids.”
“What? Why? You know they’re supportive of him!” Well Jazz certainly was, differing opinion on Phantom seemed to be the cause of half their arguments. Danny, truthfully, she didn’t really know his opinions on the ghost boy. He always looked so uncomfortable talking about ghosts with them so they just didn’t.
“Supportive maybe but they’re smart and observant,” Jack countered. “They could be our eyes and ears inside the school. They know better than to provoke a dangerous ghost,” Jack let his eyes drift over to the portal. “Besides, if the worst comes to pass, I want them to be prepared.”
“I don’t like it but you’re probably right,” Maddie grumbled. “If it keeps them safe then I’d do just about anything.” Jack smiled and leaned forward to kiss her gently, his lips a perfect match for her own.
“And this is why you could never be a bad mother,” he said. “Come on, let’s talk to them before they go to sleep.”
“Or Danny sneaks out again,” Maddie said to herself as she followed her husband up the stairs and heard him call for a Fenton family meeting.
It went about as well as Maddie had expected. Jazz alternated between being angry and anxious, telling them emphatically that Phantom wasn’t hiding among them at school and wasn’t a bad ghost to begin with. Maddie didn’t know what had come over her but she hardly recognized this irrational and emotional young lady as her daughter. She hoped it was just Senior year stress and hormones and not some ghostly influenced. Danny, as usual, sat there like he was a piece of the furniture and didn’t say much at all.
“Danno,” Jack said gently as he interrupted Jazz’s rant to engage their youngest. “You would tell us if you noticed anything unusual with one of your classmates, right? You know we’re telling you kids this because we trust you, love you and want to keep you safe.”
“Have you considered that keeping guns around the house, threatening to hunt and torture ghosts doesn’t make me feel very safe?” Danny said quietly, looking down at the table. “So what if he sometimes goes to school, maybe he wants to have something normal in his life. All I know is that if I was Phantom, maybe I would want to hide too. So people like you didn’t find me.” For the second time that night, the words of a teenage boy stopped her cold.
“Danny, what do you-” Danny didn’t elaborate and instead pushed his chair back and headed towards the door.
“Young Man, where are you going? It’s almost curfew and we’re not done here,” Maddie scolded even though she knew that neither her or Jack were in the control of the situation. Danny opened the door and didn’t look back.
“I won’t be long, just a lap around the block. I just, I just need some air, okay?” The house became quiet, no one quite knowing what to say. Jazz excused herself a moment later and walked back up to her room. She slammed her door shut. The ticking of the clock was the only sound to be heard in the suddenly silent kitchen.
“Is that how he sees us?” Jack asked quietly, looking down at his large hands. “Danny used to think what we did was so cool, when did that change?” When did he change? was the silent, unasked question. Or maybe they'd all changed, grown apart so slowly that no one had really noticed. Maddie stood up abruptly and stalked towards the door, strapping an ectogun to her hip as she went.
“Mads, maybe you should give him-”
“You know as well as I do that this is the peak time for ghosts. Danny, he might not trust us but I won’t let a disagreement get him killed.” It was full dark outside and she was halfway down the block before she realized she didn’t know which direction Danny had gone in. The night air was chill for mid-April as it shook off the last dregs of winter. She was feeling cold in her protective hazmat; Danny had left in short sleeves. Maybe she should run back and get his jacket for when she found him.
“Nice night for a walk,” Maddie jumped at the voice to find Phantom lazily floating in the air above her. His posture was casual but his eyes were sharp, searching as he always was. Green eyes glanced at her gun before meeting her eyes. “Looking for someone? Perhaps chasing someone who doesn’t want to found?” No way was she going to let him know her son was out here, alone and vulnerable.
“You actually,” she lied. He raised a disbelieving eyebrow but didn’t call her out. How could he be so expressive and so hard to read all at once? Against her better judgement, she thought again about the ghost as a human. “You called me Mom earlier, I want to know why.”
“What, you’ve never called someone something dumb by mistake?” Phantom flinched, crossing his arms defensively. “It was an accident, I’m just as upset as you are, believe me. Now if you don’t mind, I was trying to have a nice flight to clear my mind. Good luck finding whoever you were really looking for.”
“My husband thinks you’re pretending to be alive, that you’re lying to the town, going to school.” She searched his face for some sign that she was wrong but his expression was still as stone. “You’re putting people in jeopardy, I thought you wanted to play the hero!”
“I’m not doing anything,” He growled, his eyes flashing ominously in the dark. “I’m just doing the best I can, okay? If I go to the Nasty Burger or sit in on English Poetry when there’s no ghosts to fight then who’s hurt? Only me for trying to hang onto something real, something normal!”
“But the ghosts-”
“News flash! The ghosts would be here with or without me because of your stupid portal! I can’t even legally drive and yet you blame me for everything.” He scoffed and looked away, “you really are just like my mother.”
“So I do remind you of her,” she stated. “Your mother.”
“That’s a great thing to say to some kid you shoot at regularly,” Phantom said, icily, his green gaze boring into her over his shoulder. “What do you want me to say? Yeah, you do. It’s not just your voice or your face but the way you look at me like I’m nothing but a disappointment. How you make me feel like I’m some damaged child you need to hammer into shape.”
“You can’t - I’m not disappointed,” she said before she could think otherwise because how else could she react to such a charged statement? What kind of abusive, miserable home had he come from? Her heart clenched again to be compared to this woman.
“Yeah, I can tell,” Phantom snapped at her sarcastically but, like the time when he’d called her a bad mother, underneath the anger was sadness. “None of this matters, we’re both going to keep doing our own thing without each other’s approval. We’re enemies so let’s just forget this all happened and go back to you shooting at me while I beg for you just stop and listen for one second-”
“Alright, I’m listening!” Maddie shouted back, frustrated and sympathetic against her better judgement. “What is it you want to tell me so bad?” Phantom froze, like he hadn’t expected her to just stop like that. His shoulders hunched and his eyes were wide and he looked so much like a lost teenager that it pulled painfully at her heart. God, why did this one ghost bring out so many contradictory feelings in her?
“I want,” he stopped, swallowed and floated to the ground so they were near eye level. Sometime in the last year, he’d gotten taller than her. She hadn’t realized ghosts could grow, could age. Phantom was always the exception to every rule they had. “I want the same thing you want. I don’t like seeing ghosts coming through and hurting people. Before I was Phantom, I was nobody, I couldn’t help anyone. I can now and keeping people safe, it gives me a purpose I didn’t even have when I was human. Ghosts might just be the untethered remnants of dead people but we still love and feel and value things, just differently than you do. I want to keep ghosts from attacking people but without damaging them, we’re not all evil just... trying to find our own way to the finish line. If you’d just, not attack on sight, I could show you.”
It was perhaps the most she’d heard Phantom say all at once. He was rubbing his gloved fingers anxiously against his thigh and there was a desperate bit of want in his tragically young face. He wanted her to believe him, like a child looking to their mother for approval. As more time stretched on without her speaking, his hopeful look fell into a kind of sad acceptance. He looked like Danny had at the kitchen table not 15 minutes before.
“Okay,” she said finally. “We can give it a try for a bit. It’s not a truce exactly but so long as you’re not causing harm, Jack and I won’t shoot at you.” It wasn’t much but the boy looked like he’d handed her the moon and then some. He floated up a little, his boots jittered with excitement. She gaped when he reached forward and grasped her hand only to shake it enthusiastically. His hand was chilled but solid in her own.
“Yeah, you got a deal! Don’t worry, Mo- Ma’am you won’t have to worry about me, I’ll be a good little ghost, scouts honor! not that I was, uh, ever in the scouts. If things go well, I’d be happy to tell you more about ghosts and the Zone. I’ll even give you a tour if you’d like.” His smile was infectious and she bit her lip to resist the natural urge to smile back.
Maybe Phantom was a ghost, a sad child who’d died far too young but he was also someone’s son. That woman, however, hadn’t been able to protect him, to support him. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give the ghost boy a chance and maybe Maddie could fill in something his other mother couldn’t. Perhaps she could even learn how to give her own children what they needed too.
“We’ll see,” Maddie hummed. “Now, you were going to go flying and I need to find my son before he catches his death, that is, if he’ll even talk to me.”
“He will,” Phantom said softly. “My mom messed up, hurt me sometimes but I knew she loved me and I love her. I don’t know your son but I do know what it’s like to be a son and your mom is... whether you’re living, dead or in-between, she’s always your mom. Maybe he’s worried you won’t love him, the things he’s done or believes in.” He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck, “Of course, I don’t really know you and your family. Usually try and avoid you guys, being ghost hunters and all. Even your daughter is pretty scary.”
“That would be pretty weird, a ghost surrounded by hunters,” her lips twitched upwards despite herself as she imagined Phantom chatting with Jack and Jazz in the living room. The image wasn’t quite as strange as she’d initially thought. Who knows where this shaky truce would lead them? Phantom took that as his excuse to leave and flew off into the night. Maddie watched him go, she started up the block when she got a series of texts a few minutes later.
Danny: I’m home, sorry for running off like that Danny: I don’t like the way you talk about ghosts the way some people talk about race or gender. I want to make opinions based on facts and understanding, not half baked theories Danny: I’d be willing to talk more, if you’d stop being so stubbornly certain you’re right and just listened for a change Danny: I love you, Mom I don’t think I say that enough. Sometimes I feel scared to, like you won’t understand Danny: Jazz came down and Dad brought out the special fudge Danny: Come home, its cold out
Maddie brought her phone to her lips, looking up in the sky as if she might see Phantom still flying around. That boy still loved his mother, the mother who’d hurt him. She didn’t want to be like Phantom’s mom: distant, cruel, unwilling to listen. If she could hold out an olive branch for her enemy, then she certainly could for her son.
Mom: I love you too, baby, never doubt that. I think I'm ready to listen now. Mom: I’m on my way home, save some fudge for me.
I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, Just around the corner. All is well.
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nerdycanible1 · 4 years
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Izumi's Coronation
I hope you guys like. This took me maybe 3 and a half hours to write to 4. This is a funny story with some shared kisses between Lin and Kya and Lin and Izumi. I hope you guys like.
There is exactly 4,000 words in this. OwO I am happy. Please enjoy.
Izumi inhaled softly as she stared at herself in the mirror. The noises was muffled, she barely paying attention. She was going to be Fire Lord today and it was still sinking in.
She was fixing her robes, it either was too tight or too loose. She sighed as she took her glasses off and hoped she looked more better. Once she did she only saw a blur of reds and black. She growled and stuck her glasses on.
"Wow the future Fire Lord already to burn things to the ground." Izumi jumped and turned around seeing Bumi with a smile.
Izumi frowned and smoothed out her robes. Bumi was stationed there that month for extra protection for the new Fire Lord. Him and Izumi have been getting along pretty well and were still learning new things about each other. Which is fine, new memories.
"I didnt set a single thing on fire today Bumi now shush." She huffed a sshe went for retie her robes.
BumI rolled his eyes and walked forward and took it from her. He tightened it a bit and soon began to tie them. "You're sure are scared today." He mumbled. Izumi kept her head down as she tried to hide the blush from him.
"I'm fine." she insisted. "Its just nerves." She muttered. "I'm fine." she muttered.
"Yeah you're fine." He agreed a bit too fast to which Izumi glared at him through the mirror. He smirked and tilted his head. "What?"
Izumi scoffed and walked away from him and walked to her desk. In front of her were piles and piles of letters from different suitors around the Fire Nation. She sighed as she had a lot of homework to do by denying each and everyone of them.
Bumi watched her and stood there with his arms behind his back. He had a goatee and he kept his beard at bay. He had groomed himself. He was looking out the doors while Izumi secretly checked him out. His nose a little crooked though that's to be expected from a man in the military.
His chest sturdy and he was fit. He had dressed well that day, though it just was his uniform had been washed and polished. Jsut them a smirk formed on his face. "I see you checking me out." He fixed his coat and Izumi scoffed again and grabbed her lipstick.
Bumi knew Izumi had been self conscious of her looks from a young age. Due to that stupid Fire Nation school. It had hurt him really seeing her try and starve herself or when she ate food that was not her favourite. And now with the damn lipstick. Her lips were beautiful, plump and a perfect mix between maroon and purple though a lighter shade.
He strolled over to her and plucked the lipstick from her hands. "You dont need that. Less is more beautiful." He scoffed as he hid it behind himself. "You're perfect, stop fussing."
Izumi glared at him and held her hand out to him. "Give me the damn lipstick Bumi. Now." She demanded.
Bumi snickered and hummed. "Now you're sounding like a Fire Lord." He uncapped the lipstick and looked at it and then at her. "You know... I've always wanted to see why girls fussed over this. Maybe I'll try it." He hovered it over his lips and Izumi looked at him. Her stare cold and ready to murder.
Not a second later she was chasing after Bumi around the room. Bumi laughed and ran and jumped on her bed and jumped off running. Izumi laughed seeing him try and put it on his lips though he kept missing and either hit his teeth or he got it on his face.
Bumi smiled seeing her smile, he would do anything to see her smile. All seemed to have been forgotten about the coronation as Izumi and Bumi chased each other.
Though when Kya and Lin walked in Bumi wss pinned to the floor by Izumi was she was trying to put eye liner on it. "Damnit Bumi stop moving I almost took your eye." she snapped as she snorted and laughed seeing how wonky the eye liner actually was.
"Get off I said the damn lipstick." He chuckled. Lin arched her brow and crossed her arms as she watched it all unfold.
Bumi screamed again and Izumi huffed and finsihed up and rolled over and laid down next to him panting. Lin and Kya chuckled and Kya walked inside.
Lin grabbed Izumi's glasses and shook her head. "What did I expect, I thought, Hey I bet Izumi is already dressed and sitting in the throne. Hey maybe Bumi is doing his job for once and protecting the Lord of the FireNation." Bumi and and Izumi looked at Lin in surprise and Izumi squinted.
"Wait are you wearing a dress?!" Izumi asked seeing a blur of black and green on Lin.
Lin blushed and handed the other the glasses. Once it was on Izumi saw Lin was wearing a dress suit instead of a dress. Izumi was a little disappointed not seeing the dress but seeing Lin in the suit was hot.
Kya noticed Izumi staring too long and smirked. She helped the other up and pulled her hair a bit and whispered into her ear. "Don't even think about it."
Izumi blushed and scowled at Kya. Lin was ordering Bumi around and was helping him remove what they can from his face. "I wasn't thinking anything." she muttered as she began to take her hair out of its messy bun and began brush through it as Kya helped.
Izumi and Kya were finished as Lin looked at a loss. "It looks like Bumi was out at a night if hooky. Izumi, how do you take makeup off?" Izumi rolled her eyes and pointed to the dressers. That in the blue jar." Kya hummed as she finsihed pinning her hair.
"Wheres Tenzin and Suyin?" She asked glancing up at Kya.
Lin rolled her eyes. "He was caught up with some FireNation girls. Asking him about his tattoos and does he workout." She muttered.
No one said it but they all knew Lin had a small thing for Tenzin but didnt want to be killed by her. "And Su saw a boy and ran off." Lin sounded disgusted and sighed.
"You guys all ready?" Lin asked unbuttoning her second button. It was a lot hotter than she expected it to be. She took off her jacket and held it over her shoulder and looked at them. Bumi, Izumi and Kya all looked at Lin.
Lin may have not been a feminine woman but she sure as hell was a looker. Bumi was the first to snap out of it and brushed his hair back into a undo sort of thing. He had yet to cut it. Izumi on the other hand looked at the two and sighed as she needed to stop being a raging bisexual.
Kya walked to her brother and helped removed what they could of the eye liner. Now Bumi was 10x hotter than he was which was going to be distracting for most women that saw Bumi. "Your father is waiting." Lin held a hand out to Izumi to take, she would escort her there. Izumi smiled and was ready to take the hand until Kya placed her hand there giving a look to Izumi.
Lin rolled her eyes and held her other hand out to her. Izumi took that and Lin began to escort the women. Kya being a little frisky and tried to flirt with Lin. Bumi just followed behind and just smirked.
Once there Zuko looked at the women and smiled at them. It made him feel so old to see them all grown up. Lin was stronger and had a more muscular built but was a beautiufl woman none the less.
Kya was taller of course but had softer features and would break any person's heart. And Izumi, his own daughter.
She had a sharp chin, something she got from his family, and of course she was easy on the eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her. The hall suddenly went quiet as the priests and court got ready.
Suyin was sitting on the bench talking to the boy before she went quiet and waved at Izumi. Izumi waved back and smiled before she got ready.
Suki was standing to the side though she did look a bit older that didnt mean she wasn't beautiful. Zuko stood before the court and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. It only just hit him that his little girl had grown up and could care for herself... to a certain extent.
"We are gathered here on this special day. This day will mark a new generation, a new world." He took a deep breath and looked at his wife. Mai smiled and watched with pride and happiness in her eyes. "Not only have my friends and I helped return the world to balance but... we each were given children that we can pass the world too." He smiled and his features relaxed. "The newer generation will make great changes, not just for their nation's but for themselves. For the world to better themselves. A 100 years of fighting and now, here we are. Prospering into soemthing greater. We will not know now, but soon we will."
Suki and Sokka's son smiled and let out a happy whoop at that. The court looked back at him and Ridge blushed and shrunk. He was almost as old as Kya but maybe a year younger. Ridge looked a lot like his mother, same skin tone and everything. But his bright blue eyes and personality was Sokka.
Izumi blushed and smiled at him and looked back at Zuko. "It appears that I am for at a loss of words... I am just so overwhelmed with pride for my daughter. I've never met someone with so much spirit and leadership."
With one last inhale he smiled and lead Izumi to stand before the court. "Now a few words from my daughter before she is crowned."
Izumi's hands were trembling as her eyes were watering. Emotions were just hitting her and it was nice. Izumi saw the camera's and heard a few of them go off. Lin saw this and scowled at the cameras. She slipped from view and soon told them off.
Izumi watched this and soon her hearing went back. She gulped as she released a shaky breath. "I am Princess Izumi of the FireNation. I-" she gulped again and Lin smiled at her and nodded her head and told her to take a breath. Izumi followed her movements and kept her eyes on her. "I am honoured to be able to take the throne. I promise to withhold my father's words of keeping peace and I promise to give my Nation a chance to prove themselves and show we are no longer a threat." Lin gave her a thumbs up and went back to sitting down.
"I will uphold the new generation of the FireNation, and promise to keep the citizens safe. To protect my country is what I will do." She gulped and smiled at her mother before she turned and looked over at Suki. "The Kyoshi warriors will always have a place here. Employment and homes will be provided for keeping me safe and my family." Suki beamed with pride and smiled at the woman.
Suki was like a second mom to Izumi, of course there was always a place for her. Izumi looked at the crowd. "There will be a few changes of course but that will be discussed privately, but I will say that our military will ally with Republic City's. We will not break that bond." Everyone in the room was quiet and gave their silent approval with a nod and hum.
"ALL HAIL THE NEW FIRE LORD!!" Yelled the court as Izumi had finished. The people all gathered around outside have bowed as did everyone in the room. Izumi has the flame in her hair before she began to walk down the stairs. Everyone followed her with their eyes and soon she stood before her people. The people have bowed to the ground giving Izumi the respect she deserved.
The love and affection from the people, from her family made her so happy. She bowed to them lightly before she smiled at them. She took her glasses off and lightly dabbed at her eyes to removed any stray tear before she watched the fireworks go off and the confetti fill the sky.
Music began to play and soon people began to line up to greet her and welcome her as the new Fire Lord.
Lina, Kya and Bumi hung back and watch Izumi hold a child and kiss their forehead and wish them luck and then go back to shaking hands. "She's perfect for the job." Lin mused.
Kya nodded in agreement as Bumi hummed. "She really deserved this." Suki smiled and walked up to them.
"Nice to see you kids again. It's been awhile." Lin saw her aunty and beamed as she hugged the woman. Totally losing her facade. Suki was always her favourite aunty while Katara was her second mother.
"Its always nice to see you." Lin said looking at the woman. She was a inch shorter than Lin but barely noticable.
Toph was teasing Suyin in front of the boy. Suyin's face was on fire as Toph told stories of her as a punk child or a crying baby. Suyin huffed and gave up and went to go lead the boy somewhere else.
Sokka pulled Toph into a kiss and smirked. "You should really leave her to her own. I'm sure shes thinking of way to get back at you."
Kya smiled and just watched Lin. Her family was now all together and it just felt right. This was how it was supposed to be.
Izumi, Kya, Lin, Tenzin, Bumi and Ridge went to the beach side. They left the adults at the palace to do whatever the older people did. And Suyin was off with the boy probably kissing.
Izumi was sitting next to the water and just watched the waves. Lin smiled at them and hummed. She sat down next to her and handed her a cup of the drink.
"You were amazing today." Lin said softly. "I'm glad you didn't go into full panic mode." Lin says with a chuckle. She sipped her drink as she loosened a few buttons. She could relax now, they weren't in the public view and it was shot as shit in the FireNation.
Izumi blushed as she stared into her cup. "It wasn't that bad Lin." Muttered. She pouted and looked down at Lin. "I got it, it worked out."
Lin looked at hwr before she rolled her eyes and smiled. "It did work out." She sipped her drink. "So what now?" She asked softly. "I mean... we all have our jobs we wanted and we're all living our lives now."
Lin was sad to have the thoughts drawn on her. Lin was a police officer now and Bumi was in the military, Izumi the fricken Fire Lord, Ridge a Kyoshi warrior and Kya... just living in the moment.
She felt fingers lace with hers and she gulped softly. The soft and warm feeling spread up her arm made Izumi blush. "We do what we always did. Stay together." She whispered softly. Izumi looked into Lin's dark green eyes and squeezed her hand lightly. "We're not dying Lin, we have years to be together."
Ridge yelped as Bumi pinned him down. Kya smirked as she held the alcohol to his lips. "Drink it already!! Lose your drinking virginity Ridge!" She laughed.
Lin blushed and smiled as she caressed her hand lightly before she stood up. She held a hand out to the other. "Let's go join them." She smirked.
Izumi smiled and grabbed Lin's hand and Lon lifted her without effort. Lin lead them to the fire and Lin laughed seeing Kya drowning Ridge in alcohol. Bumi had let go and was on his ass laughing. It was safe to assume they were tipsy. The alcohol their parents had during the dinner was stronger than most. The only ones that seemed the most sober was Lin and Izumi and partially Kya.
Kya finished up when she made Ridge finish the cup. Ridge was panting and wiping his face off as he blushed. He glared at his cousin and wiped his face off.
Bumi and them all gathered around the fire. Kya sat next to Lin on her left and Izumi on the right. Lin smiled as she finished her drink before she asked them to fill it. "So what game do you guys suggest? I'm tired of Never have I ever... you guys get too nasty."
Izumi laughed as she drank hers and looked around. "Well, I dont have any. How about you Kya?"
Kya smiled as she sipped her drink and hummed. She asked for another refill. "Alright you have to drink after every question okay? Cant skip or anything. We just ask questions to a random person okay? I should go first." She looked around the group and then looked at Lin of course. "What's the worst date you ever been on?"
Lin blushed and smiled a sshe looked down. "I didn't like this one, his name was Jin." She shook her head and everyone snickered. "We went to this cheap restaurant and he was cute." Her cheeks flared red.
"Anyways this man orders two big orders of fried noodles, a arctic hen, some stir fry. Just everything on the menu. He was a big dude so of course he'd eat that much." She groaned and shook her head. "This damn idiot then continued to talk with his mouthfull. You can practically see the food spot from his mouth." Bumi began to laugh as Lin huffed and smacked the ground. "That idiot then up and left when I told him to shut his mouth and left me with the 200 yuan dinner." She grumbled as she was heated up again. She sipped dher drink and smirked. "But I did get to arrest him for destruction of property."
Izumi laughed and Lin leaned back a bit. "Hey Ridge, what's the most illegal thing you've ever done and got away with?"
Ridge immediately blushed and shook his head. "No! No! I refuse this question." He avoided Lin's eyes as he blushed. Bumi chuckled and now everyone was looking at him.
"Don't say anything now Ridge and we'll cut your hair off." Bumi got ahold of him and Izumi pulled out her knife.
Ridge tried to squirmed but Lin bended up the sand and solidified it and locked him in place. Ridge screamed as Izumi grabbed his ponytail. She barely even got to touch it before he screamed out again.
"MY BOYFRIEND AND I RAN THROUGH THE STREETS NAKED!!!" Everyone was stunned and Lin was the first to crack up laughing. Lin let the sand go and it turned back to grain.
Lin's face was red as she just lost her mind. Who would've thought her older friend was a streaker. Lin didn't care about his sexuality but Izumi and Kya were surprised.
Bumi let go of him finally the laughter set in and everyone began to laugh. "Did you hear his squeal?!" Kya laughed holding her stomach.
Ridge blushed and threw sand at Lin for asking such a terrible question. "Meanie." He huffed. "Bumi you go." He grumbled.
"Well what's the question?" Bumi asked watching him drink his alcohol.
"I know you at least kissed one of the girls, which one?" He huffed as he fixed his ponytail. He had an under cut and he had tattoos on his head though it was a mix of earth kingdom and water tribe tattoos.
Bumi blushed and looked over at Lin. Lin looked away and held her hand up. "Before you guys ask how let me just say it was my fault." she laughed.
"It was a party meant for any military personal and of course I was invited. I was drunk and I was dared to kiss the first man that bought me a drink. so I hung around the bar and Bumi was being nice and bought me a drink and I kissed him."
Lin rubbed the back of her neck. "Now who's turn-" Kya pretended to gag as she looked between the two.
"Gross!!! Ew!" she teased. Lin glared at her and she laughed.
Bumi laughed at her and hummed. He sipped his beer and looked around for Tenzin. "Anyone seen Tenzin?" Lin nodded.
"He went inside. One of the firebender girls took him." She sighed and rubbed her lip.
Bumi hummed and looked at Izumi. "Izumi, I have a question for you." From his tone of voice Izumi knew it wasn't a good question. Kya seemed to perked up and everyone began to listen in as well.
Izumi lcneched her jaw and sipped her drink lightly. "And... what is it?" She looked at him hoping she didnt need to kill him.
Bumi giggled before her got serious. "If you could kiss anyone in the group who would it be? And if that person accepts it you have to kiss them." That sneaky bastard. Izumi thought ready to kill herself instead.
Ridge bit his lip to bite back a smile as he knew the answer. practically everyone knew the answer except Lin. Lin looked at Izumi, expecting an answer.
Kya gripped Lin's hand ready to protect her. Izumi cursed under her breath and gulped. She released a breath and took her glasses off. She then turned and looked at Lin. "You." Was all she said.
The air was knocked out of Lin and her face burned red. "M-Me?" She began to lean back and look behind her making sure Izumi wasn't talking about Kya.
Izumi squeezed Lin's hand to get her attention. "You... Lin you."
Lin blushed as she had no idea what the hell to do. Just.... Lin squeezed her eyes shut before she leaned forward and kissed Izumi's lips. Lin's lips were surprising soft. Her lips were moisturized, and she appeared to have applied lipstick that because it had smeared all over the others lips.
Izumi leaned into the kiss to deepen Lin pulled back and panted. "N-No." She blushed. Kya pulled her hand out Lin's hand ready to walk away before Lin grasped Kya's hand. Kya stopped and glared down at Lin ready to let go.
Lin pulled Kya down and kissed her lips and Kya exploded. Izumi blushed and watched as she tried to compose herself. It was safe to say Lin was drunk as fuck. Turns out Lin cant hold her alcohol.
Kya gulped as she stared into Lin's eyes as she could feel her ears burn. Lin pulled her fully in the sand and soon broke the kiss and she panted. Her lipstick was all over her lips as she squeezed Kya's hand and Izumi's hand.
"Okay I'm tired now." She mumbled. She stood up and looked st the ladies. "I'm gonna go seep, you're welcome to join." Lin slurred lightly. She stood up and wobbled a bit before Lin was walking off to the palace.
Ridge was so confused but happy, there was no fight that's a plus. Bumi was laughing as he watched the girls in shock. Lin's lipstick was over both of the girls lips before Izumi scampered up and Izumi followed after. Chasing after Lin.
Bumi laughed and sighed as he drank his drink. The night was warm and the fire left the area soft and warm. "Well that was an interesting dilemma dont you think? Did you think Lin swung both ways? I'm glad, she deserves a night."
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satoruvt · 5 years
Text
the color of you - green (3)
i feel like in terms of the patterns im tryna leave this chapter wasnt that good but its ok i like it anyways and i hope u do too
pairing → keigo takami x bakery owner!reader
word count → 2072
summary → you’re not really dating, so you can’t really be in love with him… right?
song inspo → xo by eden
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five
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The grass is so bright.
You don’t know why it looks particularly vibrant today - maybe it’s the sun. It dots the grass under the trees in unusual polygons, the rays lighting up the green in their early-summer light. Your eyes trace the landscape, starting at the ground before moving up. Brown bark of a tree, then the token green of summer again, and finally blue sky. It’s a good day for a walk. 
Keigo squeezes your hand gently and you’re moved back to real-time, no longer focused on the colors of the world.
You’re still surprised this is so easy - of all of the things you thought this relationship would be, easy wasn’t one of the words that came to mind. But it is, Keigo makes it easy, somehow. The first few days, you went home every night from hanging out, going on “dates” just to scream into your pillow that it was you with pro-hero Hawks - albeit fake, it was you.
And his publicist was right about you gaining business - the bakery was flourishing more than ever before, supportive fans coming to try their beloved hero’s girlfriend’s pastries. The money you were getting as a positive consequence was enough for you to actually have money leftover after groceries and bills, not to mention the few employees you had were getting paid what they deserved.
“Hey, stop spacing out,” Keigo says, stopping in the pathway. When you turn to him with a raised eyebrow, he’s pouting playfully. “You’re supposed to be focused on me.”
“Oh, right, of course,” you keen, placing a hand over your heart. “I’m so sorry, my love! Forgive my incompetence…”
He grins. “All is forgiven if you agree to sit with me under the mighty oak tree over yonder.”
His medieval speak makes you cringe (though you’re sure yours isn’t any better) but you let him lead you to the tree he had in mind. He sits down at its base, under the shade of its leaves, and you follow. You lay so your head is on his lap, resting on your back.
It’s not a designated date today - Keigo had a day off (a “day off”) and called to see if you had one as well. You didn’t have to be to the bakery until later into the afternoon, so you figured it couldn’t hurt to spend some time with him (after all, he is your boyfriend now).
He’s talking about Endeavor, how the two of them are best friends, but the Number One hero just doesn’t know it yet. You’re not really focusing on his words, because it’s hitting you hard that he’s fucking pretty. It’s not like you hadn’t noticed it before - you were (are?) a fan, you noticed that he was attractive, but Lord, if it doesn’t show in the sunlight right now. With his perfectly-unruly hair, light and intelligent eyes -
“Oh!” Keigo says, looking down at you. “I just remembered. We should take some pictures.”
It takes you a moment to recover. “Uh - for what?”
“Social media.” He pulls out his phone from his pocket, and you sit up from his lap. You’re sure the two of you look pathetic, taking selfies in the middle of a park, but then again, what’s the harm?
Keigo taps on the photo app, turns his phone sideways, and you brush down your hair that’s sticking in a million different directions once you see yourself in the frame. It doesn’t take long - Keigo sends you an impatient look anyways and you tell him to shut up - and you scoot behind him, resting your head on his shoulder cutely.
That’s the first photo, gentle smiles and green grass. The second one involves you kissing his cheek, and the third one something stupid with both of you sticking your tongues out at the camera. Once he sends them to you, you save them to your phone before putting it back into your pocket.
They’re cute pictures, and for a moment it almost seems like the whole thing is real.
-
The grass is soothing against your skin, but eventually it’s time for you to get back to the bakery.
The walk back to the main entrance of the park is softer from when the two of you came in, conversation more serious than playful (not to say that Keigo doesn’t tease you when the opportunity arises, because he does).
“Are there any big events coming up?” You ask him, swinging your intertwined hands between the two of you. “Like, that we have to go to?”
“Yeah, there’s a hero awards ceremony,” Keigo says, then grimaces slightly.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at an awards ceremony before. Or any hero meetings, aside from maybe two.”
“That’s because they suck and take too much energy.”
“Then why are we going to this one? Isn’t it weird for you to suddenly go now?”
“That’s a good question,” Keigo says, and you noticed you’ve reached the front gate. “I’ve got no fucking clue.”
The chuckle that escapes your lips is genuine, and your hand leaves his with a gentle, “I’ll see you later, Kei,” but he pulls you back suddenly. You’re closer than before, and you furrow your brows at him.
“What -”
“There’s some paparazzi behind you,” Keigo says.
Oh.
“I’m gonna kiss you, okay?”
Oh.
You nod, still reeling from when he pulled you to him, and he leans forward. But wait, why is your heart beating so fast -
Keigo’s lips meet yours in a soft kiss, something only meant to convey feeling to the outside world. It’s innocent, an “I-love-you” kiss, and it takes you half a second to reciprocate. But you do, smiling onto his lips - let’s give ‘em a show, you think to yourself - and he places a hand on your cheek. You cover it with your own, and when he pulls away you lean into his palm on instinct.
“Not gonna lie, hero,” you breathe, “you’re really good at that.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Keigo grins, obviously smug, but you snort.
“Whore.”
“Hey!”
With a laugh, you walk out of the main gate, to the subway station. You can’t help but reminisce about the feeling of Keigo’s lips as you do.
-
The bakery’s having a slow day by the time you walk in, the inside seats only occupied by a few people. The chatter is quiet, barely there, and it reminds you of mid-spring days, sitting outside with friends to catch up. You head back to the kitchen with a greeting to each of your employees, but you barely get started on some cookie dough when you’re called out to the front of the restaurant.
“Y/N, there’s a delivery person here for you,” one of your employees says, and you sigh, thinking about what to do, given that your hands are covered in flour.
“Can you handle it? It’s probably just this week’s dairy,” you respond, working the dough through your fingers. Your employee shakes his head, and he’s got a small smile on his face.
“It’s not that,” he says. “The guy’s got flowers.”
What?
You furrow your brows - “tell him to wait for a minute” - before washing your hands off, wiping the excess water on your apron. When you walk out to the cash register, sure enough, there’s a man waiting with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.
“Are you Y/N?” He asks when you get close enough, and you nod. “From Hawks.”
You take the bouquet in your hands and you hear a camera snap as you do. When you turn your head to the noise, none of the customers in the bakery show any signs of it being them, but you’re sure it’s one of Keigo’s fans who heard his name. The delivery guy walks out of the bakery and you roll your eyes, laughing to yourself. There’s a tag tied around the stems and you pull on it to read it.
Couldn’t help but notice how you looked at the flowers earlier, so I got you some of your own. If I don’t see them on the counter the next time I’m at the bakery, we’re gonna have some problems.
The note is signed with a loopy scribble of Keigo’s name, and then a heart. It makes you smile and you take out your phone to send a picture of the tag to him, along with a message that reads “received loud and clear.” He responds quickly; “good, they better be in the best vase you can find.”
-
“Why are my flowers in a pot?”
You look up from wiping down the counter, brain thoughtlessly telling you to tell whoever it is at the door that the bakery’s closed, but you’re met with a familiar pair of red wings and golden eyes.
You tuck the damp rag into a pocket in your apron, shrugging as Keigo walks closer to the counter. “It’s a bakery, that’s the best vase I can find,” you say, then pout, “besides, it’s rustic, leave it alone.”
He laughs, and you motion for him to follow you back to the kitchen. “So, what brings you here?”
“My flowers.”
You feign offense, draping the back of your hand over your forehead. “Really? Only the flowers? Not to see little old me, your very own girlfriend?”
Keigo hums, dipping his finger into a mostly-empty tub of icing to taste it. “Mm, I take it back. Not the flowers. It was for this kick-ass icing.”
“You like it?” You ask, and he nods, going in for another finger-ful. “You should try the donuts I just made.”
“Holy shit, can I?”
You giggle at his eagerness, then pull out two donuts from the cooling rack nearby. You hand one to Keigo - a classic glazed - before taking your personal favorite off the rack and taking a bite yourself. When Keigo sees you do it, he does too, and you’re immediately overwhelmed in compliments.
“Jesus, Y/N, I think I’m calling it,” he says, mouth full of pastry. “I’m completely in love with you. How the hell did you get this good?”
You feel the flush in your cheeks before it shows, and you shrug, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. “I’ve just always had a thing for baking, I guess,” you murmur, placing your half-eaten donut on the counter as you lean against it. “That’s how I got this whole place started.”
Keigo looks at you funny and you realize you haven’t told him too much about your career, so you keep talking. “I started the bakery, like, right out of high school. I already knew that I wanted to bake my whole life, so I never thought about using my quirk to become a hero or going to college or any of that stuff.”
He nods, finishing off his donut in another few bites. The silence is weird, not being filled, and it feels good to talk to him about this, so you keep going, playing with the hem of your apron out of habit. “I know my parents are super proud of me for starting my own business so young, but… I did it so fast, and I worry that they think I’m gonna do everything at that same speed. It just puts a lot of pressure on me, you know?”
When you look at Keigo again, he’s got a certain look in his eyes, and you don’t know what it is. You realize that he probably didn’t want to hear about all of your fears with having your own business and panic flushes through your veins at the sudden thought.
“Oh, sorry, you probably didn’t wanna hear about all that,” you rush out, and Keigo’s quick to respond.
“No, it’s just…” he pauses, tapping his fingers on the counter once, twice. “You just summed up my entire career.”
It’s your turn to look at him funny, and it’s his turn to tell you his sob story. “I was chosen to be a hero when I was, like, ten or eleven or something, and I started my own agency when I was eighteen. I like being known as the hero with speed, as someone who can get shit done, but… it’s a lot, sometimes.”
He meets your eyes, and you’re very aware of the new understanding the two of you share. There’s something different in the way he looks at you, now.
And it’s good.
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emy-loves-you · 4 years
Text
Have Your Name (And Your Back) Chapter 3
Patton realizes that he is no longer owned by Lord Hart, and that he now has someone to help him.
Chapter 2 | Masterlist | Chapter 4
Warning: Abuse, injuries, concussions
Patton whimpered as his father’s fingers dug into his shoulders, likely forming new bruises. Lord Hart was whispering furiously, most likely to not alert the guests. “You little shit! I give you warm clothes and a roof over your head, and you have the gall to interrupt our dinner with your pathetic presence!? You should be lucky that there are guests in the other room, or I would beat you to death right here and now!” He pushed Patton away roughly, straightening his collar. “Just you wait, boy. As soon as Lord Ignis and his party have left, you will get the punishment you deserve.” Lord Hart turned on his heel, presumably to go back to dinner. “You better have a desert ready for our guests, boy. Your mother and I did not go through the trouble of making you just so you could be a waste of space!”
You didn’t tell me that you wanted a dessert. Patton let a rebellious thought enter his head as he thought about what Lord Hart said. So NOW you claim me as your child.
A hand collided with Patton’s face and he collapsed, the back of his head hitting the table behind him. Spots began to dance across the room as Patton belatedly realized that he had said that last thought out loud. Lord Hart loomed over Patton and began to kick him while he was in the ground. Patton found his arms unable to cooperate, vulnerable as his father kicked his sides and legs. “Listen here, you little bastard! I own you! No one else! And I get to use you as I see fit. Whether that means making you my little slave, or beating you to my heart’s content. You will never be my heir, and you will never be my son! Do you hear me, boy!? You will always be my property, and no one will ever stop me!”
Patton whimpered, the words from Lord Hart’s mouth making each kick hurt even worse. He felt his arms start to cooperate and went to cover the areas his father was kicking, when he felt the ring on his finger.
‘I own you!’
But he didn’t own Patton anymore, did he? Lord Ingnis claimed Patton as his godson. He even had a ring to prove it!
‘A Fairy Godfather, on the other hand, is slightly different. They can protect young humans who have been hurt by the people they should be loved by.’
Lord Ignus promised to protect Patton. To let him be safe and happy.
‘No child deserves the pain that you’ve been through.’
Lord and Lady Hart have done nothing but hurt Patton. They don’t even see him as their child, just as their slave. It’s not fair!
‘Will you allow me to protect you, to allow yourself true happiness? To end the pain and suffering, once and for all?’
Yes! Patton bit back a sob as his father Lord Hart continued to kick him, spewing obscenities with every kick. I don’t want to hurt anymore! Patton’s blurry gaze traveled to the door, where he knew Lord Ignis sat on the other side. Would he help Patton? Or would he see this as too much, and leave Patton to his fate?
A harsh kick to Patton’s already bruised ribs answered the question for him, and Patton opened his mouth to scream as loud as he could. “FAIRY GODFATHER! HELP!”
Lord Hart was suddenly slammed against the wall. He was suspended by at least a foot, Lord Ignis’ hand around his neck. Lord Ignis’ eyes were glowing bright green, and the air around him was an inferno of stifling heat. Lord Ignis looked furious, but his voice remained level as he tutted. “What an awful host, leaving the dinner halfway through to hurt my godson.” The hand tightened, and Lord Hart’s face turned an interesting shade of purple. “You will never touch him again.”
Lord Ignis said something else, but Patton wasn’t able to hear it. His vision was slowly turning dark, and his limbs were unpleasantly numb. Maybe he could shut his eyes for a moment-
“Open your eyes, Patton.” Patton forced his eyes back open, staring at Umbra. When did he get here? Patton tried to move so he could look at Lord Ignis and Lord Hart, and he gasped at the sight. Lord Ignis looked like he was on fire, red smoke surrounding him and Lord Hart. Patton saw his form start to flicker and he saw long hair and claws-
Umbra snapped to get his attention. “Focus on me, Patton. I need you to stay awake for me, okay?” Patton tried to nod, but his head started to throb and he winced. “Okay, good. I need you to answer a few questions. Do you know where you are?”
Patton opened his mouth to respond. He was- …. Where was he? Everything seemed foggy. Why was he on the floor? His side flared up in pain. Patton whimpered. His sides always hurt after his father’s punishments. It usually felt better after Patton went to sleep. Patton felt his eyelids grow heavy. A little nap couldn’t hurt anything, right?
Patton heard a muffled voice through the fog. “Shit. We need to leave, Princey! Patton, you need to-”
Whatever the voice was about to say, Patton didn’t hear it as he let the blissful darkness consume him.
---------------------------------------------------------
Patton woke up slowly, finding himself unable to open his eyes or move. He felt a little floaty; his body was tingly and he struggled to remember what happened. Voices could be heard speaking in harsh whispers, and Patton forced himself to focus on what they were saying.
“I should’ve been there sooner!”
“You know you couldn’t do anything until Patton asked for help.”
“Yes but if I knew he was hurt-”
“You couldn’t have known. The bond hasn’t been complete.” There was a pause, and even though Patton couldn’t see anything, he felt like he was intruding on something personal. “Stop beating yourself up about this, Ro. He’s here and healing, and I’m sure he’ll wake up soon.”
‘Ro’ sighed. “I know, love. I just wish I could’ve prevented this pain. He’s so small. And he hadn’t even heard about Fairies before! What if we try to help him and we accidentally hurt him?!”
“Then we’ll be extra careful. Why don’t we have our resident nerd talk to him? Teach him about Fae culture and magic. Just the basics for now, but enough to keep him safe. Alright?”
‘Ro’ said something, but Patton couldn’t understand it as he was pulled back to sleep.
-----------------------------------------------------
The second time Patton woke up, he was met with a pounding headache and pain all over. He whimpered, scrunching his eyes in an attempt to block out the pain. Something warm touched his forehead and Patton melted into the touch. His skin grew pleasantly warm, and the pain began to recede slightly. It felt similar to a massage, and Patton sighed at the truly blissful feeling. He heard someone chuckle next to him. “I’ve never had someone react to my magic like that.”
Patton’s eyes snapped open, only to immediately close them. The bright light only made his headache worse, and Patton moaned in pain. He felt the warmth go away and he whimpered, nuzzling the hand on his forehead in an attempt to pull the remaining heat closer to him.
“Shh. There is no need to fret, child.” The hand began to massage Patton’s temples. “Open your eyes when you are ready, and not a moment sooner.”
They sat like that for several minutes before Patton gained the strength to open his eyes again. The lights were much softer this time, and Patton took a moment to take in his surroundings. The bed itself was bigger than the room Patton usually slept in, with large blue curtains wrapped around the bedposts. The room was massive, with wooden floors and pale blue walls. Large windows covered most of the left wall, showing an expansive garden that stretched for miles. Two doors were in front of Patton, and a third door sat on his right. Beautiful golden lights hung from his ceiling, reminding Patton of the little fireflies he’d see out at night.
Patton felt the hand brush through his hair and he turned to look at the person next to him. He smiled when he recognized the person. “Fairy Godfather!”
Lord Ignis smiled softly. “Good morning, child. I hope you had a restful slumber.”
Patton yawned, wincing as his side flared in pain. Why was his side hurting so much-
Patton whimpered as the memories returned. The dinner, his parents claiming to have no children, the beating, Patton calling out for help, losing consciousness, everything. Patton wanted to curl up into a ball, but his aching limbs protested. Patton felt tears begin to fall down his cheeks as he spoke. “M-my parents…”
Lord Ingis reached down to grab Patton’s hand, twisting the ring back and forth. “They do not deserve that title. They are monsters that hurt you, young one. And I promise, I will do my best to ensure that those vermin are never able to harm you again.”
Patton felt himself relax at those words before their meaning caught up with him. “Are they…”
“Dead?” Patton nodded, unable to say it. “No. They are currently locked in the dungeon, unable to harm you. We will decide on their fate another day. For now, you need time to heal.” He placed his hand on Patoon’s shoulder. “Can you try and sit up for me?”
Patton nodded, happy to be of use. It took several tries to fully sit up, but Patton felt a surge of satisfaction when he did. He swung his legs out to the side in an attempt to get up when a hand stopped him.
“There’s no need to get up just yet. I just want you to sit up so you can eat some food. Is there anything you would prefer to eat?”
Patton tilted his head to the side, confused. “Prefer?”
Lord Ingis frowned before clarifying. “You get to choose what you will eat today.”
Patton thought for a moment. He never got to choose his food, always eating ends of bread or scraps from leftover meals. Is there anything he’s ever wanted to eat?
“... may I have jam?”
Lord Ignis looked confused. “Jam?”
Patton whimpered. “I-I don’t have to have any! Mother just always had jam with her biscuits in the morning. I wasn’t allowed to have anything other than bread or leftovers, and Mother didn’t want me to waste the jam, but I’ve always wanted to try some with my bread.” Patton turned away, ready to be smacked. “But I’ll be fine with bread and water, I promise!”
Patton felt something touch his shoulder and he flinched, expecting pain. The touch immediately receded, and Patton looked up to see Lord Ignis staring. He looked… sad? Angry? Patton couldn’t tell.
Lord Ignis suddenly smiled, moving to stand up. “I’ll go get you some food. Please do not leave the room. You need time to rest and heal. I will be back soon.”
Patton forced himself to smile back, masking his shock as Lord Ignis left the room. Why didn’t he punish me? Patton felt a familiar urge rise up and he forced himself to stand up. He said not to leave the room… maybe one of the other doors lead to a bathroom?
Patton carefully made his way to the two doors in front of him. The first door led to an empty room, but once Patton gave it a good look he realized what it was. A walk-in closet. Mother had one too, but not nearly as big. Patton shut the door before turning to the next one. Patton could barely contain his gasp in surprise. The bathroom was beautiful, and larger than any bathroom Patton had ever seen. The tub itself looked large enough to hold several people comfortably. Everything looked so expensive, and- are those faucets really gold?
Patton was in awe for several moments before he felt the increasing urge to relieve himself. Patton quickly used the facilities, attempting to touch as few things as possible. He didn’t want to sully such fine craftsmanship with his touch, after all. Patton was still in awe as he left the bathroom, wondering how such a place could ever be afforded-
“What are you doing out of bed?”
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@bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess
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advernia · 4 years
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of cats, jade, honey, nightingales, and spilled ink — — a compiled assortment of ikerev drabbles i’ve managed to spit out last week during break hours - they're spoiler free + scenes with vague contexts because that's all i can manage to write recently lmao _(:3 」∠)_
stray cat conjuration theory || loki & alice prompt: rain, rain, rain // shady stuff under an open umbrella
her umbrella is a shade of red.
it's shade because you see, it’s hard to be too sure considering the conditions: the umbrella’s cloth is soaked through and through due to its heroic sacrifice of shielding two people from a sudden torrential rain, the sky above them is covered by a thick spread of dark grays and obscure blacks so there’s little to no lighting that equals to harder visibility, then there’s the overgrown trees with their -
- ki, are you listening?
… hmm?
he turns his head - it’s a slow twist of his neck from up, down, then a tilt to his left with a little push forwards; perhaps painfully deliberate - and voila, there she is in all her glory; a face he was getting fond of filling his vision: wide eyes framed by dainty eyelashes, a small nose resembling what a fine-made porcelain doll might have, round lips without a single trace of rogue yet have the natural color of an enticing peach, and… oh -
alice, he says almost in sing-song, your cheeks are red. like apples! are you okay?
the umbrella skews a bit to the right as she shrinks back, grip on the handle tightening - a bit of his arm is left exposed and attacked mercilessly by the rain, dry turning damp in seconds: it’s cold and frankly annoying against his skin, but there’s a quick solution to that, and that is -
w…w-wha… hey, loki?
yes, alice?
uh… do you mind moving back? a little bit? please?
aww, but my shoulder’s gonna get wet!
oh… i wouldn’t want that either, but… don’t you think you’re standing a bit too -
- a bit too what?
a step closer has their shoulders brushing up against each other and his face just a handspan away from hers, and he takes this opportunity to peer much closer at her eyes, and he sees that her irises are a brilliant shade of -
i… i-if you move any closer, i’ll leave you here to get drenched!
a pause. brisk raindrops hitting the umbrella fill it in, dull sounds of tap tap tap tap tap, then -
he breaks into light laughter, a foot moving backwards and upper body retreating, a safe breathing space in between them now visible again.
sorry, alice! I was just kidding… did I take it too far?
really, loki… is this how you treat people who share their umbrellas with you?
nope! it’s not everyday that someone offers to share their umbrella with me… even if their umbrella’s too small to begin with.
… does that mean you want to get drenched after all?
no way!
please speak well of me || ray & alice prompt: in memor(iam)y // a fragment of me on your skin
"now that i think of it, why did you call this necklace a 'collar'?"
the king of spades raises his head briefly, eyes shifting from the wordy official document in his hands to the woman standing in his office. she's by the bookshelves, small hands, lithe fingers intent on relocating the books from their former places to wherever she saw fit. pull out, set aside, dust away, evaluate possible positions, then insert back to the shelf. rinse and repeat, like dance steps: one, two three, four, and five.
around her neck, chain hidden by the collar of her blouse and ribbon, a sparkle of green shone. it showed itself occasionally, peeking out of the ribbon when she would begin to chase the dust away from the books and shelves with a feather duster. it doesn't mix, he muses, that red ribbon against that bright green. to begin with, why was her dress blue and her ribbon red? do they mix? then again, did he really need to know?
she was wearing it, anyway - that's all.
"... i don't get you," he replies, tossing the now-signed document onto one of the many stacks piled on his desk. he gets another document from another stack and tries not to groan when he's greeted by multiple lines of ink, beautifully dull and almost consuming the paper itself. "does it matter?"
"of course it does," she replies, tone and pitch of voice a little bit higher than usual. he can't see her facial expression, but he envisions a frown - or maybe a scowl crossing her features. either way, she's not happy. "a collar is something you would use for pets. or domesticated animals."
"i know."
"so do you see me - or think of me as one?"
his lips quirk upwards, a snort escapes him. "is that your question for the day?"
she stops to glare at him, a thick tome in her hands. "that's just cheating."
"it isn't," his reply comes off as casual.
she doesn't buy it.
"i can see you grinning, ray blackwell."
he laughs when his full name rolls sharply off her tongue.
"are you actually angry, or are you trying to act like my mother?" 
♠ ♠ ♠
the king of spades learns that morning that alice the second can wield a five hundred twenty-three-page book with a thick hardbound leather cover like a training sword of the wooden variety, something that one could find in the black army's barracks.
sturdy and definitely not lethal.
he fails to account lethality for multiple hits straight to the head, though.
to his credit, she does apologize after she'd whacked him thrice. the book goes back to the shelf (without bloodstains), he mournfully clutches his head, she looks at him with worry.
"it's just that a necklace this nice," she says, fingers reaching up to her neck to clasp the jade in her palm, "doesn't deserve to be called a collar. it’s a gift from you, and i intend to treasure it when i get back to london.”
he’s not sure where’s the dull throbbing coming from now: it’s either from the back of his head, his ears, or his chest.
who cares, it hurts.
lather that honey on your tongue || blanc & alice prompt: ye olde pickup lines // romance in the eyes of the full moon
when he finds her, he sees her standing a few paces away from his house's backdoor, her hands set behind her back. her head is tilted upwards and her eyes reflect the moon over their heads: it's a large silver coin shining bright against a blackened sky scattered with stars.
he calls her name once - she turns her head, smiles and waves. moonlight casts a dainty glow on her facial features, making her skin seem softer and the blue of her eyes more vivid. he pauses for a moment before he walks to stand beside her.
"oliver told me you would be here," he says. "it seemed like you two had a pleasant chat before i arrived."
her brows furrow, lips purse themselves together. "i think oliver enjoyed it more than i did."
"oh? i would certainly enjoy myself as well, if i were in the company of such a beautiful lady such as yourself."
a pleasant smile lights up his features. one could not say the same for hers, however - her mouth has gone slightly slack, but she shook her head immediately and turns her head up back to the moon.
"i say, the moon is beautiful tonight," he says as he points to the sky with a gloved finger.
"but not as beautiful as i am, maybe?" she says, a lilt in her voice.
she laughs for a bit until she realizes that his eyes are on her: his eyes are wide open, his mouth slightly agape. heat flushes and colors her cheeks slightly.
"okay, i'm sorry," she splutters, angling her face away from him, "it's just that i mentioned to oliver that i get so flustered when you compliment me, and he said something along the lines of 'then why don't you beat the rabbit in his own game', and - "
" - and you decided to compliment yourself before i would?"
"yes, well - gosh, that sounded really awkward, didn't it? please forget i said anything."
he fixes her with a blank stare for a few seconds before chuckling.
"on the contrary, i can't deny your words."
her breath catches in her throat for a moment before she replies. "which ones?"
"you being far more beautiful than the moon will ever be, of course."
"now you're just exaggerating - i didn't even say half of that!"
"you didn't, which is why i took the honor of doing so."
he leans forward to take a lock of her hair in his fingers, pressing it to his lips with a smile.
sing sweet nightingale || sirius & alice prompt: i’m drowning in siren calls // my own two feet as a compass
that deep tone has engraved itself so distinctively well into her ears and mind that each time she would hear it, even if it was of the softest of murmurs, she would find herself looking for its source. it's almost unbelievable how it's become something like a reflex in such a short amount of time, making her feel quite sheepish. she was no dog, nor did she wish to give off the impression that she was a clingy lover constantly observing her beloved's actions... but time and time again, her body would fail her and she would always end up in another search for him.
whenever she would successfully find him, he'd pause whatever he was doing for a moment to greet her with a smile and a voice that soothes her sudden wanderlust. the sound is oh-so kind and noticeably happy so she smiles back, but somehow there's a lingering feeling of disappointment for herself.
so one day she tries to stop turning his way when she hears him from afar: whether she was at the kitchen and him just outside by the training grounds, she by the flowerbeds and he near the headquarters' entrance, or her in the saloon and him issuing orders by the hallways; she stifles the urge of her feet to drop everything and go to where he was. it's far from easy since she wants to hear more, but she tries her best and it actually works for a while - perhaps three days. it makes her feel a bit better about herself, but -
- it's all for naught when he literally corners her in her own room, back and wrists pinned against the wall. she breathes an inhale of surprise at the sudden action, turning sharp when he lowers his face so it's just inches away from her own. his breathing sounded strained, how strange, like he was in pain - oh dear, did something happen? could she be of help?
worry begins to flood her thoughts, but it's washed out without a care just as quick when his breath tickles her ear and he speaks to her with an urgency, demanding and agitated and frustrated but still so beautiful to hear -
why have you been avoiding me?
oh no, she muses but doesn't say - her body had involuntarily trembled out of sheer delight at the sound of his voice so close, heart singing loud and knees growing weak.
words don't dare crawl out of her parched throat.
trails of sea-foam ink || dean & alice prompt: that i hold dear // the chase for a permanent you
today before he leaves his home he walks over to that one drawer and collects every single letter she sent, keeps all those tiny envelopes complete with their barely torn seals inside a folder that fits snugly into his bag, then goes on his merry way.
when they meet for tea, he shoves the folder - and all those one hundred fifty-seven letters of four seasons - into her hands.
“you should do something about your penmanship,” he says like the professor he really was, and that just makes her frown. what - was her alphabet too round, the edges too curved? were the words, sentences, and paragraph alignments all wrong on each and every line, like how music notes would dance on staves?  
“i’m sorry,” she says, but she’s not even sure what she’s apologizing for. maybe it was better to ask. “... is my writing too small for you to read?”
“i would’ve told you immediately if that were the case, rather than subjecting myself to eye strain.”
“is it too large?”
he holds himself from clicking his tongue. “it’s not an issue about size.”
“oh. then is it about how i write everything in a slanting manner?”
“no - you aren’t the first and perhaps the last person i would see whose penmanship presents itself in such a script-like fashion and objectively speaking, you are one of the agreeable examples of those writing in such a style.”
“uh-huh,” her head tilts to the side, she frowns. “then can i ask you what... well, you don’t like about my handwriting?”
he raises the teacup up to his lips. what i don’t like, he muses, is how light you write. what i don’t like is how the ink you used to write all those letters is dark enough to leave its mark on the paper but light enough for me to think that its fading, like touches of moonlight on a cloudy night. it reminds me of you and how you came to be in this world in the first place, and how easy it is for you to go back if you firmly decided on it. but what i dislike the most is the fact that i still have lingering thoughts of the possibility of you leaving when every single letter you have sent me has told me otherwise, all because your penmanship is as light and dainty as yourself.
“dean?” she calls out, voice something small.
unease unable to quell itself, he allows an amount of pure black tea to hold his tongue.
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redfoxwritesstuff · 5 years
Text
600 years (Loki x ofc)
Hello! As you likely noticed, I mucked up my posting schedule so Dust is getting a skip week. This is for @devilbat and their Halloween Marvel Madness Writing Challenge using the prompt:  “You look the same as you did 600 years ago.” “Thanks. I have a great skin care routine.”
Loki x ofc, Rating: Mature 
warnings: aftermath of extreme violence
This one shot picks up right after Loki’s end in Infinity War. 
Summary: Thor was picked up by a passing ship however the rescuers assumed everyone else was dead. Loki floated, clinging to life in the void of space. A better time to think over his greatest regrets and remember the warm smile of the woman he had cared for 600 years ago? It is with her memory he intends to comfort himself as he waits for death. Turns out, death had a scheduling conflict.
600 Years
When one’s neck is broken and their bodily systems barely functioning, there is little else to do but think while one waits for death. He couldn’t close his eyes, it seemed his whole body was paralyzed. It made sense, he could remember the sound his neck had made when it snapped. Time seemed endless, no different than the vast nothing around him. With so much nothing, he had nothing to do but think while he waited for death to take him.  
He didn’t want to think of the pain he’d suffered in the last ten years. It wasn't worth the heartache to think of the betrayal of the man he thought of as his father. It wouldn't do to dwell on how unfair it was that he should die only now, when he was beginning to rebuild a relationship with his brother.
He didn’t want to think of the horrors he had seen. Not in what he expected would be his final moments. Instead, he turned his mind back through the years and settled on one of the few truly happy memories he had. By the gods, he could still see her face as clearly as if it were yesterday.  
~~~~~<3
“Come, Loki.” She ran, fingers wrapped around his hand.  
Her red hair was a mess of waves, tied back with a green ribbon he had gifted her a few days prior. Odin would surely chastise him for letting a human drag him about by his hand but Loki couldn’t find it in himself to care in the moment. Her green eyes sparkled as she ran along. He could overtake her, out run her with hardly any effort but he allowed himself to be dragged along just the same.   
She had something she wished to show him. It was likely mundane but he couldn’t managed to be annoyed with her. Aileen was something unique, even among her people. While Thor, Loki and Odin were worshiped as Gods by these people, Aileen was different. Her devotion was to Loki alone and maybe that was why he was so forgiving of her eagerness to waste his time.  
Loki wasn’t an idiot. Far from it, even so long ago. If he could smile, floating in the void of space while his mind was in the distant past, he would have. Even then, Loki had known he was telling himself lies.
She had dragged him to a field of wild flowers. The deep green of the grass stretched out in front of them as the trees gave way. The sky was a bright blue and the sun was shining down on the field. Blue flowers of all shades dotted the ground. Some were small, others rather large. The field went on until the cliff face dropped, giving way to peaceful rolling ocean.  
It was beautiful, even Loki could admit it but there was something far more beautiful in the field.  
She had been brought to his attention almost ten years ago, dancing on the line of a woman and a child at the time. She was the only of her village to declare herself to Loki and only Loki. She didn’t bow to Thor, nor to Odin or even Frigga. She bowed to him alone, though she faced ridicule for it.  
Loki had always showed her favor whenever Odin would bring them to Midgard and that was fairly often at the moment. For whatever reason, their father was going through a benevolent period in regards to the youngest of his subject realms. Once Loki had her, he found himself minding these trips less and less.  
“It’s a field.” His voice was lost in the wind, yet the way she smiled at him left no doubt that she had heard him.  
“It’s been blessed.” Her voice was soft, far softer than any flower’s petal.
“Not by I.” She pulled him out, fingers still wrapped around his hand.
“Not by any god.” She laughed.
Even now, floating in that cold void, waiting for his brain to shut down, his heart to beat the last time, he could hear her laugh. It was more akin to the sound of bells tinkling than the hearty laugh of many of the women in her village.  
“Than how has it been blessed?” He asked. They were at the center of the field now and finally she let go of his hand. He watched as she spun and danced in a sea of flowers.  
“By the sun.” She held her hand above her. The long, flowing sleeve of her dark green dress fell to expose her slender pale arm. She then cast her arm out, waving at the ocean waters beyond the cliff. “By the great sea.”  
“Those are but the natural forces of the world.” Loki was well aware she knew better.
“And yet, are we not a blessed people to have them?” She smiled and he shook his head. He wouldn’t say it, but he knew it was she her people were blessed to have.  
He wondered what had ever become of her. For a few short years, they had visited Midgard every few months. Than it became every few years. He had watched as she grew from a girl at the cusp of womanhood and into a young woman any man would have been lucky to have.  
Had she married? The last time he had seen her, she hadn’t yet though she was well of age. He’d only gotten to see her a handful of times after she had shown him the field of flowers.
Once he had told her he’d loved her. She had said she loved him and he had known it was more than the way the rest of the villagers loved the Gods. She had loved him in the way a woman loved a man. And he, her. He’d sworn that he would go to Asgard, speak to his father and they would be together. She would be his High Priestess and he, her God. She would be his wife and he, her husband.
But war came to Asgard. A few days had become weeks and months before he even noticed. Human lives were fleeting and he had spent what would amount to years of her life on the battle field offering strategic aid that more often than not was ignored.  
When he next found himself standing in the field of blue flowers, she was surely bouncing grandchildren on her knee. Or at least, Loki had hoped. Now, floating and waiting for death to take him, Loki found himself wishing he had been strong enough to make sure she had at least had a good life.  
Black consumed his vision or perhaps it was simply that he had shifted in the void and no longer could see any distant stars. It didn’t matter. He’d had a long life. A hard life and maybe he was ready for it to be over.  
~~~~~<3
He was aware of warmth before any other senses came to him. It confused him but it could be that what came after death was warmth. There was no way to know how long he was aware of only warmth but he paid time no mind. Time didn’t really matter anymore.  
Sometime later, how long he couldn’t even begin to say, he became aware of sound. First it was a slight breeze running through the space, though he could not feel it. Than it was a voice, familiar and yet he couldn’t place it. It didn’t feel important enough to place, in the moment as it hummed a sweet song. The sound was hardly there, as if carried on a fleeting breeze and gone the next moment.  
He became aware of the weight of a blanket over his form, a soft mattress under him and a too fluffy pillow propping his head. He realized he was in fact somehow alive. The aches in his body had returned but they felt dull and far away though he still couldn't open his eyes or twitch a finger. Sometimes, coppery liquid would drip into his mouth, cool and wet.  
He was beyond weak still and spent much of his time unaware and asleep. When he was swimming so close to consciousness, he would wonder how long he had been where ever he was. It felt safe. Surely, Thanos wouldn’t give him a soft bed and nurse him to health after breaking his neck.  
Eventually, there was a lucidity when he woke that was a stark contrast to what had been. There was light and dark that he could pick up even through his closed eyelids. It felt like it took all the strength he had to crack open his eyelids.
The room was sparsely furnished and that was putting it rather kindly. A groan slipped out of him as he pushed himself up. Casting his eyes around, he found that rather than just a room, he found himself in what appeared to be a two room hut. There was a lamp in the corner with one dim bulb casting light into the space.  
Through a door standing open was a bathroom though he hesitated to call it as such. From where he propped himself up on the bed, it looked to hardly have enough room to serve its most basic purpose. There was a two burner stove that looked to run off gas. A small chill box was next to a thin counter and a sink with a board balanced across.  
The space was small and cramped- just hardly big enough for one person to live in though in most cases he would hesitate to call it living. A chair was piled high with clothes and assorted personal items. Except for that and the bed he was on, there wasn’t anywhere else to sit.
The bookshelf next to him offered no clues about who had been caring for him. The writing on the books told him he was likely in Midgard, though how he had ended up there was a mystery. Hell, he didn’t even know how he could be alive yet somehow here he appeared to be.  
His limbs felt like they had weights attached as he dragged himself and swung his feet to the ground. The soft fabric of loose pants clung to his legs. The ground wasn’t offensively cold as his feet touched the worn wood floor.  
A breeze pushed the airy curtains through a window with no glass, caressing his exposed chest. The breeze was clean and fresh, something he missed when in many places through Midgard. He could feel how badly his hair needed a wash and would give anything to bathe but first- he needed to find answers.  
When he stood, black swam through his vision for a moment and he was sure he was going to hit the bed again. When it receded, he made his way through the small room, inching toward the door. Everything hurt. Every muscle ached.  
Stepping outside, he found a field of dark green grass that stretched to the drop of a cliff that looked achingly familiar. Above him, clouds moved lazily by in black masses against the velvet blue night sky. The moon was full between the clouds, casting her cold light on the world below.
Blue flowers dotted the ground on either side of the worn path he was dragging himself along. The coastline felt so much closer than it should have been. His heart pounded in his chest as he told himself he couldn’t be here. Anywhere but this cliff.  
For so long he had avoided this place, though he wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone. Perhaps it was another cliff, somewhere similar.  
He almost didn’t see the woman standing at the cliff. Though he regretted to admit it, his attention was far more focused on taking in the surroundings. She was standing so still that she was easy to miss.  
But when the coastal wind blew,  loose waves of red hair floated to the side. The skirt of her dress, a green that almost matched the grass she stood on, danced above her knees. One slender arm reached up, pulled the waves from in front of her face and tucked it behind her shoulder and ear. He could see nails painted dark and a ribbon tied around her wrist with a neat bow.  
“Who are you?” He called out and when she didn’t answer he added, “Where am I?”
“You’re awake.” She finally answered without turning to face him as he drew closer still. The sound of her voice made ice run through his veins only to be replaced by a rage fueled fire an instant later. “I’d worried that you’d not wake at all.”
“Face me.” He ordered and she did but he didn't believe what he saw. “Show your true face, witch.”
“I’m no witch though that would indeed be useful.” She mused, eyeing him. “Relax, won’t you? You’re so very weak still.”
“Who are you?” She stepped closer, unafraid even as a dagger shimmered into existence. He’d not show it, but the small magic alone left him feeling drained.  
“Who do you believe me to be?”  
“She’s dead, has been for centuries.”
“Have I been?” She asked, cocking her head to the side only to have the wind shift and blow more strands of red across her face, destroying the moment of elegance. He couldn’t begin to explain it but she appeared wholly unconcerned with his dagger. Instead, she looked around her and smiled. “This field has been blessed. Not by you, my God but by the Sun and the Sea. Most importantly, it has been blessed by me.”
“Aileen.” The name slipped from his lips without his consent. There were beings who could do terrible things with a name alone. “Who told you that?”  
“I told you that.” She walked up to him, unafraid. “You fell from the sky and landed in the ocean not far from here. It was simple curiosity that drew me out to see what caused the splash and I’m beyond thankful that I did. You’ve been asleep for almost three weeks.”
“How am I still alive?” He didn’t expect her to have am answer, truly.
“I do not know how you survived getting here or from where you came. I wasn’t sure you’d survive the first few days, then I feared you wouldn’t wake at all.” She admitted and Loki wondered how it was possible that she was there. “I’d never thought I would see you again, after centuries. Then you where there, in New York and gone again. I’m sure once you’re healed, you’ll be gone once again.”
“How-”
“How am I still alive?” She finished when the words seemed to catch in his throat. “It doesn’t matter right now. You should be resting more, you’re still weak.”
He didn’t want to admit that she was right. Still, when her delicate hand wrapped around his arm, he allowed her to lead him back inside the small hut. His mind was far too busy trying to piece together what was happening and what it meant. This couldn't be real.
“Your hands are cold.”
“As is your arm.” She said as they crossed the threshold. “You’ve always been colder than most.”
“But you were not.”  
She sighed and admitted, “You’re right. I am different now. I have been for a very long time.”
“Tell me, how is it possible that you look the same now as you did 600 years ago?” Loki again pressed as he sat heavily on the bed.  
“Thanks, I’ve got a great skincare routine.” She laughed at her own joke before understanding that he wasn’t going to let it go. “Shortly after you left, our village was attacked by beasts of the night. They would come and steal the lifeblood from their prey, night after night. Our numbers dwindled as others fled.” She sat on the bed next to him, picking at her fingers.
“I remained, even as my father abandoned me. You had said you would return for me and I couldn’t bring myself to leave. One night, the beast came for me. I prayed as he sank his teeth into me. I prayed to my god to give me strength and rolled the man beast off of me. He landed in the fireplace and my life was spared.”
“And how are you still alive now?” Loki pressed. “What does that have to do with now?”
“I was the only one to survive the beast’s attacks. I thought that was the end of it, and for a while it seemed to be. But then, I began to change and became the monster that had driven my friends and family from our home. I wasn’t always able to retain my sanity and at times I was no better than the beast who attacked me. Years ticked by and I waited for you. Soon, centuries passed and I remained standing in place as time moved on without me.”
“What medicine had you given me?” Loki watched as she tensed up.  
“It’s unimportant. It healed you. I couldn’t stomach the thought of watching you die.”
“I assumed you’d grown old and died.” Loki admitted. It pained him to think that she had suffered this condition he only was now learning of for so long alone.  
“Why did you not come back? Had you changed your mind?” She asked before shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter, forget I asked.”
“Asgard went to war for nearly a century. When I was able to return- I assumed it was too late.” She nodded at his words.  
“You should rest. There is food should you hunger. I must leave for now but I’ll return by morning.”
“Why?” Loki felt weariness pull him down. He didn’t want to sleep now but his energy was draining. There was an ache in his neck that went deep down to the bone and the longer he sat, the harder holding his head up became.  
“To feed.” She answered as she stood.  
“I don’t understand. You said there was food here?” With a firm hand she guided Loki back on the bed as he spoke.  
“You need not worry, all will be clear in time. The food here does nothing for me. I am a beast now.”
Once he settled on the bed, she spread the blanket over him. With another urge to get rest, she turned and pulled the shutters closed on the window before stepping out into the night. Part of Loki wondered if he should be gone before she returned but sleep claimed him again before he could give it much thought. 
~~~~~<3
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wonderland-irwin · 4 years
Text
CALM & Synesthesia — Introduction
A few years ago after Youngblood came out, I posted on here a question, and it was rather simple, and it was like “does anyone else see colour when they hear music?” And then I listed a few examples of songs and the colours I saw. Someone actually responded and said no, but that I should search up Synesthesia, because I probably had that.
I was first of all, extremely surprised that no one else saw colours when they heard music. When I reflect back on my relationship with music (music being my one true love), I realize that colours were always there, I just never recognized it until the 2018 release of Youngblood.
Second of all, I was shocked to hear that these colours and what was happening has a name. It’s a real thing. I have a super active imagination, which probably stimulated and woke this part of my brain up and caused me to become more aware of it, but to find out that I wasn’t crazy was a relief as it was shocking.
Synesthesia (which I can never say aloud with it sounding like a sneeze), in basic terms if you don’t know what it is, is sort of labeling things with a colour. A very common form of Synesthesia is words or numbers to colour. I must add here that forms of Synesthesia cross over, so if you have one type, you most likely also have forms of other types. My main form of this is called Chromesethia, which is sound to colour, but the number seven for me is a pale blue, as is the word February.
Synesthesia cannot be forced. It usually happens unwillingly. Personally with Chromesethia, if there’s a lot going on in my brain or in the world, the patterns still occur, however sort of broken up like a shattered piece of a mirror. It affects very little of the population and some people when in drug hallucinations, may also experience forms of Synesthesia.
I have thought for a while about sharing what I see for a while. I’ve tried to do it with words, but when I see patterns and colours, words don’t really do it justice. So with the recent release of the heartbreakingly beautiful, CALM, I figured this would be a great time to explain first how Synesthesia works for me personally, and take you on a hauntingly disturbing tour of the twelve songs, plus whatever deluxe songs arrive, from 5 Seconds of Summer’s CALM.
Before we get into the songs, though, this part, the introduction, is about how Chromesethia is broken down in my brain.
So this form of Synesthesia is sound to colour. We’re going to start with simple notes, as a song writer may, and build from there.
Each note for me, is assigned a colour. I played trumpet in my high school band, an instrument in C, so my B Flat concert scale starts and ends with C. C itself is a gold colour, G is magenta, A is red, B is Blue, F is green, E is brown, D is a dark grey.
Apparently I can’t put the scale in order today, oh my.
Moving on, those colours are pretty much the same colour wherever they are on the staff, although as the sound does get higher (high C for example) the colour quality diminishes slightly, and becomes more of a white space (Think of it like a light blub, where the centre is the brightest, but has the least colour, and as you zoom out, colour slowly occurs).
In regard to flats and sharps, they will be a paler form of the original colour. So for example, F is green. When you think of green, regular green, this green, that is the green of F. F# for example, is a slightly lighter green. I think this is because that it’s not exactly the full version of itself. Does that make sense? It’s not quite F, therefore F# is not quite that shade of green.
It works with flats too. If you told me to play a Gb, I would see a slightly lighter magenta colour. Not completely the brightness and stricking pink of magenta, but pink enough that it is still a G note.
Instruments also have an effect on my brain. If you were to pull out a flute and play a solid tone, and my brain were to focus on the sound of the flute and not the note the flute was playing, it was see pastel purple or pink. The flute is a rather light and airy instrument, and the colours would the reflect on that sound. However, if you were to pick up a tuba and play a note, I would probably see a darker colour, like navy blue.
Voices also have this effect. If I’m paying great attention to a voice, or I specifically like that voice, I will hear a colour (that sounds so weird. I’ll hear a colour). If there are many people in a room and there’s lots of chatter, then I probably won’t see anything because I can’t focus on one specific element. People singing also have an effect. Sometimes it is a shade or two off of their regular voice, it might be the same colour, or a completely different colour.
Since we’re talking CALM;
Ashton: Ashton has a red voice. When he speaks it’s red. Like just your regular crayon red. However when his voice gets soft like in videos where he’s updating us, thanking us, telling us he loves us, his voice goes to a paler red. I wouldn’t say his voice goes pink, which is a paler red, but the red definitely gets lighter and softer.
When Ash is excited or pumped up or performing, his voice goes to a dark red, like a cherry, and black sort of flicks in every once in a while.
His singing voice follows the same pattern as his speaking voice.
The drums, as that is his instrument, are two different colours. His snares, Toms, anything that gives a solid sound is usually shades of light grey. His bass drum gives dark grey vibes (the tuba/flute effect). And the cymbals are that light and airy sound so they’re gold, breaking that white high sound.
Luke: Luke’s voice is all over the place. He is blue when he talks in his normal voice, green when he sings. I should mention that Luke’s, as well as Ashton’s, falsettos are those white space colours as well. Anyways, the blue is sort of the same when ever he speaks, if you want to search up Prismacolour pencils crayons permanent blue, that’s the colour of his voice. Luke’s singing voice is that green and it shows change as movement through squiggles (aside from falsettos). I’ll explain movement in a bit.
Calum: it doesn’t matter what Calum’s doing whether talking or singing, he is either a chocolate brown colour or the colour of honey. I feel like that shows his range. Calum is very soft when he speaks or sings, and those colours to me are soft colours so they make sense as to why they’re Calum’s colours.
The bass is black and surprisingly gold. Deeper sounding instruments are very dark in relation to the colour. However, I think in the case of bass, specifically Cal’s bass, I find the instrument interesting, and I love playing it myself, so maybe that’s why the gold comes through. Sometimes the colour is just there, and I can’t explain it, just gotta accept it.
Michael: Michael is very interesting because his colours are never really the same. When he speaks, sometimes he’s turquoise, sometimes he’s black, sometimes it’s grey, and then the shades varying between those colours, which is super interesting. His singing voice is kind of scratchy looking. If you took a scratch board and a fork and scratched it up, so it was black with white or grey peaking through, that’s his singing voice. Michael’s voice whether singing or speaking is a mystery to me, but also makes complete sense at the same time. 
His guitar, any guitar for that matter, has two different looks in my brain. 
When its a single note, even if I can tell what that note is, it’s gold. It doesn’t matter. It’s a black space with gold dots that are the notes. 
Okay, now the bass is making sense to me, lol.
When chords are playing, it’s more of a gold square with black lines in a grid pattern (like the neck of a guitar).
So guitars are black and gold, I guess.
Synesthesia is something I am still learning about, so here for example, I never made this connection before.
In terms of what songs look like, most times they reflect nothing of the voice or instruments used. With songs it’s more of an overall picture, colours and patterns taken perhaps from mood rather than notes. Sometimes songs have movement, which reflects the pace of the song, and sometimes there is none. In terms of voice, like mentioned with Luke, when I focus on his singing, it’s a green line moving up and down as he sings over top of the overall picture of the song. Sometimes songs have different images as it moves along, but it will usually look the same and the movement most likely changes instead of the picture. Regarding the colours I see, I usually see no more than 5-7 colours, on average, a song has at least 3. The amount of colours is usually an odd number, which I don’t quite understand, but it’s cool.
I think this is all I want to say about what it’s like for me with Chromesthesia. If I remember anything I will add it into other parts, and each part will have the previous parts tagged to it, so you can find the entire album.
If you have any questions, my inboxes are open!
Red Desert will come out once I finish the colouring. Red Desert’s colours are super bright so I need to colour hard and my pencils are dying. I was colouring it to Thin White Lies last night, which hurt when your eyes are looking at Red Desert but your mind is hearing and seeing Thin White Lies. Tell me why I did that. 
OH! Speaking of that, actually, if I see artwork that doesn’t match what my head sees, it will either give me a panic attack or I can’t look at it, because my brain will hurt (a rude side effect that I cannot control). My brain is set in its way and I can’t really change it. This is out of my control. That’s what Synesthesia is.
Lastly, the boys of 5 Seconds of Summer are FANTASTIC at finding a similar, if not the same, colour pallet for their songs that I see. Whether or not any of them have it, I do not know, but I’m glad they’re at least on the same page so my head doesn’t explode when their art comes out.
Okay, NOW I think I’ve said everything. Red Desert will be out soon with a blurb. My inbox is always open for questions! I hope y’all enjoy this thread!
~ becca
P.S if you wanna be tagged in the next parts, I don’t know who’s interested, but let me know!!
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Text
Wheels Set In Motion, Ch 2.
Fandom: The Society.
Summary: As the situation in New Ham takes a dark, mysterious turn, Campbell is faced with a threat he never saw coming. With few allies and the past coming back to haunt him, he is forced to deal with a world that is crumbling fast, and choices with grim consequences.
Rating: Explicit.
Tags: Minor Character Death, Canon Divergence, Mental Health Issues, Addiction Recovery, Unhealthy Relationships, Teen Pregnancy, Past Rape/Non-con, Campbell Isn’t The Dad, Brother Feels, Attempted Murder, Supernatural Elements, Gay Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Campbell has mild ASPD and is actively trying to not be awful
Word Count: 7613
Ch 1 || Ch 3 || Ch 4 || Ch 5 || AO3
Meet me at the library.
It was 10am when Campbell got  the text from Grizz. He had been sitting at the kitchen counter with  Elle and Harry; both of them lifted their gazes at the sound of the  buzzing, giving him a quizzical look.
It's done. I need someone to talk to.
"Who is it?" Elle wondered.
"Grizz." Campbell stood up and slipped on his shoes. "Allie went through with it."
Harry's face turned a faint shade of green. "What does he want?"
"I don't know. I'll be home soon."
Yet  another lie, but what did it matter? Campbell didn't know for sure what  was going on, or what exactly Grizz wanted to talk about; he could only  guess, and either way, it wasn't his business to share. At least it was  a beautiful day, Campbell thought as he walked to the library. Sunny,  warm but not hot. A good day to go, if he had to pick one. But Dewey  hadn't picked it, and the beauty of the summer morning didn't change  that fact, nor did it change the fact that Grizz was hunched up under  the tree in front of the library. Shaking, crying.
Campbell  didn't say anything. He walked up and sat across from Grizz, keeping his  mouth shut and studying the grass while Grizz pulled himself together.  Grizz would talk, on his own time; pushing would only make things  harder, as could unwelcome touch, even if it was out of comfort. Speech  wasn't something that could just be pried from people who were  panicking, especially not autistic people.
After fifteen  minutes, Grizz let out a shuddering whimper. He ground his wrists  against his eyes and sniffled. Coughed. "I couldn't do it."
"Yeah?"
"She  had us all pick up a gun. We didn't know which had a bullet. I tried  but, we missed the first time and I just couldn't..." Grizz choked on  his words, looking like he was going to retch. "Fuck, how are we  supposed to live with this?"
Campbell thought back on everything  he'd ever done. How did he live with the worst of it? No, he didn't  exactly feel bad about any of it, but he could imagine what it'd be  like, if he did. "I guess you just find some way to justify it, some  explanation that makes it less painful, and hold onto it until things  feel less awful."
"That works?"
"I don't know. Remorse isn't my thing, usually."
Grizz  looked up at him, frowning, but he didn't say anything. Not at first.  "There was graffiti on the wall, before we were brought here. It said  we'd been weighed, and found wanting. It was gone when we got here.  Maybe it was right, whatever it was."
"Huh." Something bothered  Campbell from the back of his mind. A faint memory. Something that felt  connected, but nothing that jumped to mind clearly. Shaking his head,  Campbell shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe. Either way, all I know is that  sometimes shit can't be avoided. All you can do is accept that it  happened, find a reason you can live with, and keep going."
"I just want it to stop hurting."
"I wish I could tell you that it will, but I don't know. It might not. It fucking sucks."
"What would you tell yourself?" Grizz asked. "If it had been you?"
"Probably  something like, we're in a shit situation without the means to keep him  safely contained, and he was a threat. Putting him down would be the  fastest, most surefire way of making sure the rest of the community  would be safe."
"That's not really true."
"You asked me for what I'd tell myself. Not for the truth."
Grizz  leaned back against the tree and stared up at its leaves. There was a  finch up among the branches, whistling an obliviously cheerful tune. "I  couldn't tell Sam about this," he said, eyes fixed on the bird. "I don't  want him to see me falling apart like some kind of weak piece of shit."
The  idea made Campbell laugh, despite the situation. "Have you met my  brother? Yeah, sometimes he can be stubborn, and he can make jokes when  it's not the best time. But he's got a lot of fire and he's  compassionate. He's a good guy. Sam isn't going to think you're weak.  He's going to think you're a good person who was put in a shit position.  Because that's the truth."
They sat there together for a while.  Grizz cried again, softer than before, but he still rocked back and  forth and let out small whimpering noises.
"Is it okay if I hug  you or something?" Campbell asked. It felt strange, just sitting there  while someone fell apart. Grizz shook his head. "Alright. Is there  anything I can do?"
Grizz used a handkerchief to wipe his face.  "Uhm." His cheeks turned a flushed pink. "Could you, I mean, I need to  take my mind of things. Could you help me find a book on sign language?  I'm... I wanna..."
"Say no more. C'mon."
Grizz followed  Campbell into the library. It felt surreal, helping the guy pick out a  book to probably sign-sext Sam, but there was a sincere curiosity and  eagerness to Grizz as they headed towards the language section that  Campbell decided he didn't care. Whatever. The guy had just watched  someone die. But as they walked towards the section, Campbell turned the  plan over in his head. A few times, in fact. By the time they got  there, he knew what he would do.
Campbell grabbed a book on  British Sign Language before Grizz had a chance to look over things  much. "Here. This is the one I used to learn. It's super informative."
"But it says British." Grizz frowned. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure. It's pretty much the same thing, just with... you know, British slang."
Grizz  peered at the book as Campbell pushed it into his hands. "Huh. Well,  okay. If you say so. Thanks, Campbell. For being cool about this, I  mean."
"No big deal. You help me, I'll help you."
He  didn't tell Grizz the plan, of course. That was something he'd find out  all on his own, but he'd thank Campbell for it later. They explored the  library a bit more, with Grizz staring down the religion and  spirituality section before shaking his head and leaving. Campbell  didn't ask. He just made sure Grizz got home safe, before heading home  himself. Hopefully, Grizz would just tuck into his room and focus on  learning the wrong type of sign language, and take it easy.
Elle  was sitting on the porch when he got home, getting together some paper,  pens and other stuff. "Hey," she called as he walked up. "I'm heading  over to Becca's house. She's going to help me make missing dog signs  during my work break."
Campbell winced. "I'm sorry he's still gone, babe. Do you need me to come help put them up?"
"No. I've got it."
She  sounded upset, but of course she was upset. Charlie was gone and hadn't  been found. He considered telling her about the blood, but he'd already  lied about it; it'd look bad if he suddenly admitted it had come from  the night Charlie went missing. Besides, he had no clue if the blood was  Charlie's, and Elle didn't need to hear that something-- who knew what,  some unknown dark mass-- probably ate her dog.
"Alright. Have a good day at work. If you change your mind, I'll see you at lunch."
Campbell  kissed Elle's forehead. She gave him a smile and stroked his cheek  before leaving. He watched her go, his own smile falling once she was  out of sight. There had to be something he could do to cheer her up.  First thing was first, though. He went inside and checked in on Harry,  who was snoozing in bed. His forehead felt feverish when Campbell  pressed his hand to it. But he didn't stir, and Campbell didn't want to  wake him. Instead, he grabbed a book from the living room and perched at  the end of Harry's bed, waiting.
It was close to lunch time when  Harry groaned, stretched, and yawned. He blinked sleepily at Campbell,  and Campbell felt his heart ache a centimeter more than before. Harry  sat up and rubbed his eyes, voice groggy. "Hey, Cam. How long have you  been here?"
"A while. You feeling okay?"
"No. I feel like I got hit by a truck."
"Hungry?"
"No."
Standing,  Campbell went to the kitchen and brewed a cup of herbal tea, with a few  scoops of sugar. He brought it back to Harry and held it out. Harry  sighed and sipped the drink. "No caffeine for a bit," Campbell said as  he opened the curtains a touch. "It'll make you more jittery."
"Can  I lie and say I feel great?" Harry asked with mock hope. Campbell gave  him a look, and Harry slumped. "I guess I better get ready for work and  stuff."
"Just brush your teeth and put some shoes on. I'll do your half of the work, I just need you there so I can keep an eye on you."
"But Allie--"
"Can take it out on me if she has a problem with it."
Harry  bit his lip, but he didn't argue. Campbell drove them to lunch so Harry  wouldn't have to stress his body out; Elle joined them out in the  school's courtyard, where it was pleasantly warm and away from the  bright fluorescent lights. Harry picked at his food, but he seemed a  little less haggard, out in the sunlight and with the fresh air. Elle  was quiet and didn't say much.
No one, Campbell realize, was  saying much. Not at lunch, not during cleaning duties before dinner.  Elle had left with Becca-- who hadn't even glanced at Campbell-- to go  hang up the missing dog posters. The house felt heavy, and at work,  everything was the same way. People had cheered for Dewey's arrest, and  some had even cheered for his death sentence, were stone silent.  Campbell kept his head down and mopped the floors, but he wanted to  laugh in their faces. See, he wanted to yell. You think you're so  fucking righteous, but you all have blood on your hands, too. They  thought they were so tough. Now, reality was hitting them right in their  fucking faces.
That evening, after dinner, Allie called a  meeting at the church. "Greg Dewey was put to death at 9am this  morning," she said. Her voice was flat. She didn't look at anyone,  staring straight ahead. "He was buried in the woods without a marker.  There will be no funeral. If you want to mourn him, you can do so among  yourselves."
And then she left, leaving behind a church of  stunned faces, with plenty of shocked whispers among them. Campbell,  Elle, and Harry went home without a word, and that night was the first  time Elle slept in her own room in a long time. He didn't mind the time  alone. There was a lot to think about, to try and process. He thought he  would feel some sort of comfort, some sort of closure, but he felt  nothing. Just a dark hole where Cassandra had been, still, and no real  sense of justice. Just cold practicality, distant and hollow logic that  said it was the right move for survival, and that was it.
Dewey  had deserved to suffer. To live for ages, knowing what he did and be  punished for it. Death wasn't to punish him or get Cassandra some sort  of peace in her rest. It was just to get Dewey out of their hair. And  Campbell knew that, had known that the whole time, but with it over and  done...
His phone buzzed. I love you, the text from Sam read. That was it.
I love you, too, Campbell texted back.
The  message was read, but Sam didn't send anything else. Campbell set the  phone down and tried to go to sleep. He didn't know why Sam had sent  that, or what it or his own reply meant at all, but something about it  felt like an acknowledgment that things were fucked and who knew how  much time any of them had? Maybe that was all it was. Two semi-estranged  souls feeling burdened by the idea of death, and reaching out for some  small scrap of familial affection. Just in case.
For the next  week, the days seemed to drag by but vanish in a blink at the same time.  Everyone seemed to be in their own little bubbles, except for Harry,  who stuck close by Campbell's side. It was hell watching him detox, and  Campbell wondered if he'd been that irritable; one moment, Harry would  be angry and snapping, the next he'd be crying. He slept all the time,  which wasn't too far from normal, but even when Campbell dragged him to  work-- to pretend like he was working-- he'd glaze over like some sort  of robot without batteries.
Elle had withdrawn into her shell.  Campbell didn't know what to do. They weren't fighting, but her smiles  were forced and when she laughed or acted interested in anything going  on, Campbell could tell it was fake. He knew that sort of mask all too  well. But what could he do? He didn't even know for sure what was wrong.  If he didn't know any better, he'd think it was something he'd done.  Maybe it was, but he'd been on his best behavior. What was he missing?
Allie  arrived at the house one day when Campbell was sipping coffee on the  front steps, pondering that exact question. "I heard Harry hasn't been  working," she said, staring past him at the house door. "Can I talk to  him?"
"He's sleeping. You can talk to me."
"Campbell, you know the rules. You don't work, you don't eat."
Campbell  shrugged. "Fine. I've taken over his shifts until he feels better. If  I'm doing twice the work, I get twice the food. No problem."
"Christ. What's going on with him?"
"He's detoxing. Gave up the drugs and the booze cold turkey."
"Really?"
"Is it really that surprising?"
"I  guess I just never thought..." Allie rolled her eyes, then looked  Campbell over. "Alright, fine. Have it your way. Twice the work, twice  the food. I don't care what you do with it. How long does he need?"
"Assuming my research is right, about another week. Week and a half."
"He's got two weeks. If he needs longer, then he needs to come see me."
"Thanks." Hesitating a moment, Campbell called out to Allie as she started to walk away. "Hey, Allie? Can I ask you something?"
Allie sighed, but stopped. "What's up?"
"Do you know if something happened with Elle? She's been acting kinda strange lately."
"I don't know. She's been hanging out with Helena and Becca a lot. Ask them."
"Well,  I would, be Helena wants me to burn in Hell and Becca hasn't spoken to  me in forever. Makes things a little difficult, doesn't it?"
"Really?" Furrowing her eyebrows, Allie took a few steps back towards Campbell. "You guys used to be friends, didn't you?"
"Kinda. But then..." Careful. "Life happened, I guess, and she won't even look at me anymore. No clue why."
The  look on Allie's face shifted, and for a moment Campbell thought she was  going to ask something, but then she shook her head. "I'll ask Sam to  talk to her. You and him are on speaking terms again, yeah?"
"Yeah. Mostly."
"Good."
That  sounded almost genuine. Maybe it was. Who knew. Allie walked off, and  Campbell finished his coffee in peace. The mystery only deepened as the  day went on, and Sam texted him, asking to meet. Elle was at work, so  Campbell dragged a weary Harry along to the coffee shop where his  brother was waiting. Sam gave Harry a skeptical look, but Harry tucked  himself into a corner in the back with a book and one of Campbell's  hoodies draped over his shoulders. He wasn't going to be paying  attention.
"How have you been?" Campbell asked. "Since everything."
"Tired. Sad. Worried."
"Worried?"
Sam  shook his head and gave a helpless sort of shrug. "About how it will  change things. How it will change us. But I think Allie is taking it  harder than most of us. She had to take over for Grizz."
Now, that was something Campbell hadn't known. "Yikes. No wonder she's tense."
"Everyone seems tense. Allie told me you're having troubles with Elle?"
"Maybe,  I don't know. I'm glad she's got some friends now, but lately she's  been hanging out with Becca more. She found a dog wandering loose, and  then he disappeared right around the time all this Dewey shit started.  Maybe it's just that."
"Maybe. That's rough."
"It is."  Campbell noticed a hint of... something in Sam's eyes, though. "Do you  know if Becca has anything against me? We got along okay, but she treats  me like I've got some sort of contagious disease these days."
Pursing  his lips together, Sam glanced to where Harry was curled up. Harry was  still ignoring them, but Sam switched to signing only. "I want to ask  you something, but you have to promise to tell me the truth."
"I could lie about promising," Campbell signed back, also going into silent mode. "But sure. I promise."
"Did you and Becca ever sleep together?"
"What? Hell no. Elle's the only person I've slept with."
"That's what I thought, but..."
"But?"
A long, long pause. "Promise you won't say anything, not even to Elle? Or Harry?"
"Dude, still the same problem there."
"Campbell."
"Okay, okay. What's going on?"
"Becca's..."  Sam hesitated. "I asked Becca about someone she slept with, and she got  angry with me. She told me to never ask her again. I assumed it was  you, because I don't know why else she wouldn't tell me."
Campbell  felt dizzy, in a way, as he processed the information. Was it possible  Becca associated him with that night, and just didn't want to remember?  Or, worse, that she thought he had been responsible? Either way, he had  no idea what Becca had confessed to Sam, so best to stay vague. "I know  about the party where she met them, but it wasn't me. We just went  together."
"She never told me about that. You don't know who it was?"
"No. Sorry."
"It's okay. Do you want me to talk to Becca for you?"
"No, no, I don't want to bother her, especially if she's angry at me over something. I'll see if Elle will just talk to me."
Sam  nodded. He messed with the salt and pepper shakers on the table. Empty  now, their contents taken by Will and his crew to use in the communal  kitchen. "Was that all you wanted to talk about?"
The answer was  yes. Campbell hadn't planned on talking about anything else. Yet now  that he was there, sitting across from Sam and actually talking about  things rather than arguing or blaming or whatever, Campbell considered  that maybe it was also time to extend another olive branch. A bigger,  better one. "Actually, I was thinking we could go to the arcade on our  next day off. Like we used to."
"Really?" Sam sat up a little straighter. "You want to?"
"Yeah, of course. If you want to."
"I'd like that."
They  settled on a day and time, and went their separate ways; it was easier  than Campbell had expected. No questions, no suspicion. Just a glint of  hope. Campbell was starting to think that maybe Sam really did care  about him. Maybe he always had. He'd known that his own feelings had  been impacted by his parents, but was the same true for Sam? Did their  relationships with their parents really color the relationship between  them so much? It seemed hard to believe, but maybe it was true, and it  had just taken a few doses of tragedy to bridge that gap.
Unfortunately,  those tragedies seemed to have broken something between Campbell and  Elle. She smiled, she laughed at his shitty jokes, and she accepted his  affection, but there was a stiffness to it. It was forced. Once lunch  was over and Elle had gone home to rest, Campbell popped back into the  cafeteria. Elaine was working. They weren't as close as before, but she  still seemed welcoming when he approached. That was a good sign.
"Hey," Campbell said with as charming of a smile as he could muster. "Could I ask you for a favor?"
Elaine tilted her head. "You can, doesn't mean I'll agree. What's up?"
"I  was hoping to make my girlfriend a dinner at home tonight. You know,  just me and her. Something special. I just need a jar of like, alfredo  sauce and some garlic bread."
"That's cute. I'll have to ask Will, though."
Oh, god. "Okay."
Shuffling  into the back, Elaine vanished, and a few minutes later Will came out  instead. He looked neutral, but Campbell braced for a fight. "Elaine  said you asked for some extra ingredients. You know we're not supposed  to give out food for people to use at home."
"I know. Maybe I can  bring in some other supplies to trade, at breakfast? You guys probably  need band aids and stuff like that, yeah?"
Will narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, we could use some. Are you sure you wanna do that?"
"I'm sure," Campbell replied. "Elle's important to me. I want to do something nice for her."
"I can give you a jar of sauce, and a few slices of texas toast we've got. You got a box of band aids we can have?"
A  small price for what Campbell was hoping to accomplish. Maybe Elle just  needed a pick-me-up, something to remind her that he cared. The next  night, Harry took Elle out with the excuse of getting some fresh air  while Campbell quickly set the dining room table. Nice glasses,  sparkling cider his parents had kept around for the 4th of July,  candlelight. He salted the pasta water, drained it when it was al dente,  and added the sauce to the pot with a bit of pasta water and dried  herbs. He mixed in some canned mushrooms and a bit of pan-fried frozen  chicken, heated the bread, and got it plated just as the two came back  from the walk.
"Oh?" Elle peeked into the dining room. "What's this?"
Campbell  took her hand and kissed it as Harry darted into his room, flashing  Campbell a thumbs up behind Elle's back. "I thought we could stay home  tonight, babe. Will traded me a few things so I could make dinner here,  just the two of us. I remembered that you liked Italian food, so..."
Elle stretched up on her tippy toes and kissed him. "It looks amazing. Thank you."
And  it was amazing, for the first half of dinner. Campbell hated small  talk, but Elle was quieter than usual, and if there was ever a time to  sort things out... well, maybe it wasn't then, but he was tired of  waiting. "How have you been doing?" he asked. "I feel like we haven't  really talked lately."
"Oh! Well, I've mostly just been working  and helping out some people around town. Some people are talking about  setting up classes and workshops to give people things to focus on. I  was thinking about reviving movie night."
"That sounds like a good idea. We could all use the distraction."
"Yeah." Elle glanced up from her plate. "There haven't been any leads on Charlie, though. Have you heard anything?"
"Sorry, babe. I haven't heard anything, either."
"And you're sure you don't know what happened to him?"
Campbell  gripped his fork tighter as his jaw clenched. Peaceful thoughts,  peaceful thoughts. Maybe she didn't mean anything by it. "What do you  mean?"
"I was talking to Becca, and--"
"She told you what Sam said?"
"Sure. Yeah."
"Elle,  that's..." He stopped and rubbed his face. Even now, even with her, it  was all too easy for his brain to go into that space where everyone was a  threat and he had to attack to defend himself. This time, he managed to  cut himself off before anything snappish came out his mouth. "I've  fucked up a lot, and some people in town hate me for a decent reasons.  Kelly, Allie. I was mean to them. But Becca's different."
"Different how?"
"I  never did anything to Becca, but she hates me, too. Maybe it's because  of me and Sam not getting along. I don't know. But whatever she said I  did, it's not true."
"Alright. I'm sorry I said anything. I should have known."
"Hey."  Campbell stood up and walked to her side of the table, kneeling on the  floor next to her and taking her hand in his own. "No, it's okay. I'm  not mad at you or Sam or Becca. I just wanted to set the record  straight, you know? It's better to just get it out in the open."
Elle  nodded, but she was still staring down at her plate. "Yeah, it is. I  guess I just..." She trailed off, finally looking to him. "This place is  doing things to people. Showing them for who they are, maybe. It scares  me."
"It's scary shit. But we still have each other, right?"
"Right."
Campbell  knew, deep down, it wasn't that simple. Elle began sleeping with him  again-- both in the literally and euphemistic sense-- but there was a  sadness in her eyes that never quite seemed to fade, even on their best  days. She was afraid, and his presence wasn't changing that. He couldn't  blame her. He knew that there was no way he could be at her side every  moment of every day, and even if he was, he wasn't bulletproof. Still,  he refused to stop trying.
He kept seeing Grizz a couple times a  week. Usually they would just talk. Vent. Grizz found some papers he had  on something called EMDR, and suggested they try it. "It seems to help  with stuff like PTSD."
"I don't have PTSD."
"You don't think so?"
"I'm not a war vet, Grizz. I haven't been through anything bad enough for that."
Grizz  gave Campbell the look he always gave Campbell when he knew Campbell  was trying to avoid a topic, and thought it was bullshit. It was one  thing Campbell admired about Grizz-- he didn't hide his opinion. "You  don't have to be a war vet. You know that. It's actually the least  common cause for PTSD. Physical assault, sexual trauma, and sexual  assault are the top three causes."
"Yeah, okay. I get the point."
"Do you? Do you know what the fourth leading cause is?"
"I know you're gonna tell me either way."
"Sudden  death of a loved one." Grizz lowered his voice and leaned forward,  making direct eye contact for the first time since they' bee having  meetings. "You were the one who first found her body, weren't you?"
Campbell met his eyes and felt goosebumps rise up on his arms. "How do you know that? I never told you."
"It doesn't really matter, because I know you didn't hurt her. Here's the papers."
Just  to end the conversation, Campbell snatched the paper folder from Grizz  and hid in the corner of the library. He didn't want to have to think  about what Grizz said, not for a long time, if ever. It wasn't some  miracle cure, but Grizz figured out a sort of at-home way to do it, and  Campbell did feel better. Calmer. In return, he helped Grizz practice  his BSL, even if Campbell knew it wouldn't work with Sam. It wasn't  entirely useless. Learning a new language was beneficial, and Grizz was  proud of his improvements; Campbell enjoyed the interaction, so really,  it was a win/win.
Harry stayed clean, though as summer passed by  and melded into fall, Campbell could tell that the depression was  getting worse. It wasn't too much of a surprise. Depression didn't just  go away, even with treatment, and getting sober made everything more  difficult. It had been a coping mechanism, and now Harry didn't have  that to lean on. Campbell taught him some of what he'd learned from  Cassandra and Grizz; it seemed to help, but the situation they were in  just kept punching a lot of people down. Harry needed to rest, but he'd  been dragged back to work once the two weeks had been up. To make  matters worse, the work schedules hadn't been rotated since Dewey's  execution.
"I brought it up to her," Sam said during one of their  now-weekly get togethers. "But she just isn't listening. You know  Allie. She has her opinions."
"Runs in the family. I don't get it, though. If she's so worried about people revolting against her, why is she doing this?"
Sam  lifted his shoulders in a big shrug. "I have no idea. She gave me a job  at the library, and told me I could stay there as long as I wanted.  She's done the same for a few other people. Given them stable jobs.  Maybe she feels like that's what's best for everyone, now."
"Yeah, except she didn't ask anyone."
"She doesn't have to."
And  that was that, in the end. Allie didn't have to justify or explain her  choices to anyone. It was her rules now. It was her society. They were  all just living in it, despite what she may have said during the  mandatory town meetings. Campbell kept his fingers on the pulse of the  community as best as he could, making notes of who was pissed,  frustrated, complaining. He wouldn't give it over to the guard or to  Allie, but it was good to keep track of the undercurrent of the river  they were all standing in. And it was getting rough.
There was a small reprieve during October.
"I  guess Blake, Clark, and some of the goth kids are getting a Halloween  thing together at the end of the month," Elle said one day when she came  home from work. "Do you wanna go?"
Campbell looked up from the dishes he was washing. "Hey. Sure, that sounds like a good time. When is it going to be?"
"Five in the evening. I guess there's gonna be a trick-or-treat event after dark."
"Nice. That should be fun."
"Do you want to do the costume thing?"
"I don't know. How about you?"
Elle  perched on the counter next to him, lightly kicking her legs. "It could  be fun. We don't have to do anything complicated. We could ask Harry  and Sam and a few other people to come with us, maybe?"
Other  people was vague, but she sounded so tentative that he didn't want to  press her about it. "Sure. Halloween's kind of better in a group, right?  Maybe tomorrow we can go through our stuff and figure out costume  ideas."
"Sure. That'd be nice."
And it was. They didn't  have anything super elaborate to work with, but it was fun to paw  through their closets and figure something out together. They didn't  have much luck at first, but Elle's smile was a bit warmer than it had  been in a while. Maybe things were going to be okay between them, after  all. She held his hand when they went to movie night together, and ended  up leaning against him; she and the others involved had decided every  week in October would be a different horror movie, which seemed like  both the best and worst idea.
It was a double feature night,  with Rocky Horror Picture Show and Bela Lugosi's Dracula. Harry had  decided to come with them, unlike the previous week's Creature from the  Black Lagoon. Harry ended up falling asleep on his shoulder twenty  minutes into the second movie. Once the movie was over, Campbell and  Harry helped Elle clean up; Elle and Campbell had just taken out the  last bag of trash when Elle curled her arms around his waist in a hug.
"Hey,"  she said as she nuzzled his shoulder. "I got a costume idea. We could  always go as Mina and Dracula. Classic. I could wear my nice white dress  my mom got me for my birthday this year."
"The one with the lace hem?"
"You remember."
"Of course. You wore it for Easter. It's amazing on you."
She let out a pleased hum. "Do you really like the idea?"
"I do," Campbell affirmed. "Vampires are still in, aren't they?"
"Always."
Even  with something to look forward to, the time dragged a little, but it  gave Campbell a touch of excitement for the near future. The three of  them managed to sneak some Halloween decorations, not something his  parents had really allowed, and make the house appropriately festive. He  and Harry got in a light argument over whether Nightmare Before  Christmas was a Halloween or Christmas movie. The week before the  Halloween events, Will revealed that there were pumpkins available for  decorating.
Sam showed up with a few, looking hopeful. "I thought we could carve them together," he signed, "since we never have before."
And  how could Campbell say no? They sat on the back porch, and Elle joined  them with a pitcher of hot, spiced tea. It was sunny and perfect weather  for it. Sam didn't eye him for wielding a knife, which was a bonus.  Campbell sliced the pumpkins open and dug out the seeds. "There. I'll  have to find some tea candles for when they're done."
Harry sat  nearby, picking the seeds out of the orange goop. "These can be roasted  later," he said. He wrinkled his nose as he grabbed a handful. "Even if  it look like something you'd find growing under a bridge."
Sam  signed something, and Harry glanced at Campbell, unsure. Campbell  chuckled. "He said we might have to forage under bridges if things get  bad."
"Oh, geeze." Harry turned his eyes back to Sam. "Better have Grizz teach us about mushrooms."
Blushing,  Sam nodded and focused on his pumpkin. He made a sort of howling wolf  face, while Elle made a cat, and Campbell and Harry stuck to more  traditional jack o' lantern faces. As it turned out, all carved pumpkins  were destined to be decorations at the Halloween Eve festival that had  been planned; Grizz came around to pick them up the day before, spending  a few minutes talking to Sam, who had come by again to make roasted  pumpkin seeds.
Campbell waited until Grizz was gone before nudging Sam. "When are you gonna go for it? It's been months."
"He hasn't made any sort of move at all. Are you even sure he likes me?"
"Have you made a move?"
He  didn't push the issue when Sam kept quiet. It wasn't really Campbell's  business, and his relationship with Sam was just beginning to bloom into  something that actually resembled a brotherhood. The lovebirds would  come together on their own, eventually, or they wouldn't. Still, it was  nice to think maybe Sam wouldn't be alone forever, after all. It was  something he'd always worried about, ever since that priest put it in  his head after Sam had come out.
At least Grizz was part of the  group that gathered together to go to the Halloween events. Campbell  dressed in black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black leather jacket;  he'd managed to barter high-quality custom fangs from Elaine, and of  course, Elle looked effortlessly beautiful in her white dress and pale  make-up. The three of them met the others in front of the school. It was  mostly Sam and Allie's friend group, but Campbell was determined to  play nice, even though Will, Luke, and Gordie were giving him wary  looks, and Becca outright ignored him. There was a tension between her  and Sam. Campbell assumed there must have been an argument. Regardless  of what happened, they all plastered smiles on their faces and greeted  each other.
Allie raised her eyebrows at Harry. "Dude, what's your costume?"
Harry  stood there in boxers, a tank top, and moose slippers with a five day  shadow and an unopened package of Top Ramen in his hands. Without  missing a beat, he gestured to himself with it and shrugged. "I'm a  Millennial.
"Ah. The scariest urban legend."
Bean gave Harry a concerned look. "Aren't you gonna be cold like that?"
"Not with the increasing effects of global warming, I won't."
Most  of them chuckled. It was an uneasy sound that came with knowing they  might not actually survive long enough to worry about that sort of thing  anymore. Food. Warmth over the winter. Sickness. Student loan debt and  rising sea levels seemed like such a distant problem, in their new town.
The  big event distracted them, anyways. There were a few different  activities going on. In one area, there was a big barrel where people  were bobbing for apples, provided by someone who was lucky enough to  have an apple tree in their yard. Blake and a few theater kids were  doing face painting, and Clark had offered up his pick-up truck for  rides along the more picturesque parts of town. All the carved pumpkins  were scattered around with candles, and people had gathered up bags of  leaves to scatter around the field. A little ways out, there was a  bonfire going, where people were serving cups of hot cider, and roasting  hot dogs and marshmallows. Someone had brought a speaker system, and  cheesy Halloween music filled the air along with the smells of wood  smoke, caramelized sugar, and spices.
A solid half of the group  got their faces painted, and after seeing how cute it was, Allie gave  in, too. Campbell politely declined, as did Luke, Helena, and Harry.  Surprising Campbell, Harry decided to bob for apples; he looked like a  soggy dog when he came back up, but he did have an apple and won that  round. He winked at Campbell when no one was looking, and Campbell  rolled his eyes. Show off, even when it was apple bobbing.
"I  guess they converted the school into a haunted house," Kelly said after  they'd gotten cider and snacks at the bonfire. "Wanna go, anyone?"
Everyone  agreed, except for Becca, who's eyes were pointedly on Campbell when  she refused. "No thanks, I'm a little tired. I'll just stay here by the  fire."
Sam signed to her. "We'll come get you in a little bit."
"Okay. Have fun."
Campbell  started to leave with the group, but then paused. He waited until they  were a ways away before turning back to Becca. "Look, I don't want a  fight, but you clearly are pissed off at me for some reason." He didn't  want to bring up what Sam said. "I don't understand why."
"Really?" Becca glowered at him. "You're playing that card?"
"What card? One day we're kinda friends, and when I took you home after what happened at Harry's party, you just--"
"Fuck you, Campbell."
"Becca, just tell me what I did. I can try to fix it or something."
Standing  up, Becca raised her voice until she was practically yelling. "Fix it?  You can't fix what you did to me! How dare you? Maybe you've got Sam and  Allie and Grizz fooled, but not me. I know what you did. And one of  these days, so will everyone else, and you'll get what you deserve."
"So  you think I did it." Campbell had suspected, but it still felt like  someone had kicked him in the gut. "Becca, I don't know what you  remember, but I didn't do it. I found you, and I helped you get home.  That was it."
"Leave me the fuck alone! Get away from me!"
People  were starting to stare. Campbell opened his mouth, shut it again, and  turned to follow after everyone else. He froze when he saw that Elle was  standing not too far away; she had stopped when she'd noticed Campbell  wasn't with them, probably, and now she was looking at him with a look  that chilled even him.
Campbell approached her, slow and with care. "Babe, I don't know what you heard, but--"
"We should catch up with the others."
"Elle."
"Please. Not now."
Clenching  his teeth, Campbell followed silently behind Elle as she made her way  to the school. No, he wanted to shout. No, we're not leaving it like  this. You have to listen to me, you have to believe me. But if Campbell  were Elle, he knew he wouldn't believe him, either. Becca was a  straightforward, no bullshit kind of person. Honest, with a spotless  record, and she was well-liked. She was Sam's friend since childhood.  She'd never been Campbell's friend, really, but they knew each other.  He'd had opportunity. It didn't look good, and if it got out, how would  he be able to defend himself? How could he fight that, without hurting  Becca?
He didn't know. All he knew was that the rest of the night  was a blur, and by the time they all got home, the evening was  thoroughly ruined. Harry kept his mouth shut and hid in his room; he  could sense there was a storm brewing, and Campbell didn't blame him for  wanting nothing to do with it. Elle fled upstairs. Campbell gave her a  few minutes, and then went up. She was sitting in her own bathroom,  staring at the mirror. It looked like she'd planned to take her make up  off, but she hadn't started yet. Elle just... stared at her reflection.
"Babe?" Campbell called softly. "Can we talk?"
"Is she telling the truth?"
The cutting, dangerous edge to Elle's voice was enough to make Campbell swallow. Hard. "How do you mean that, exactly?"
"You know what I mean."
"No, I don't. Do you mean about being attacked, or it being me who did it?"
"Did you rape Becca?"
"Jesus,  Elle." Running his hand through his hair, Campbell sat down on the  floor just outside the bathroom. "No. I didn't rape her."
"So she's lying?"
"I'm  not saying she's lying. She was attacked at a party Harry threw with  the football team and some college assholes from outside of town. We  went together as friends, I lost sight of her, and when I found her it  had already happened. I made sure she got home, but she was pretty out  of it. She refuse to go to the hospital and she told me not to tell  anyone. The next day, she blocked my number and hasn't spoken to me  since. I believe that she thinks it was me, but it wasn't."
Elle  was watching him in the mirror, expression completely closed off and  eyes blank. "You know how this looks, right? You know how many guys say  it wasn't them when they get accused."
"I know, and I know that  ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the victim is right. I'm not saying  Becca wasn't attacked. Hell, I understand why she thinks it's me. Trust  me, if I could find the dirtbag who hurt her, I'd rip their fucking head  off. But I don't know who it was. I just know it wasn't me."
Turning  on the sink, Elle began to remove her make up. She didn't speak. She  didn't look at him. He didn't try and make her. They just both sat there  in their own thoughts. Campbell knew that she was going to leave. It  was all too much, and he knew that. His shitty temper, his moodiness,  what happened with Sam and then Cassandra, Charlie vanishing, and now  this. Even if he didn't or hadn't done everything he was accused of,  Campbell knew he was difficult to deal with, and he knew he'd done  enough to be suspect. Why would she stay with someone like him?
"I need a night to just clear my head, I think," Elle finally said. She frowned and fiddled with her hair. "Is that okay?"
"Of course. Take the time you need."
"Thank you. Goodnight, Campbell."
He  stood and went to his room. Elle shut the door behind him, and the  sound of the lock to her door clicking shut sounded a lot like the sound  of his heart cracking. He paced his room for a while, after that. Elle  was just scared. It made sense. He loved her, and she must have loved  him too, otherwise she'd have left long ago. Maybe he could talk with  Sam and see if Becca would talk to him. Hear him out, in a quieter  environment with Sam or someone else there to help her feel safe. Maybe  if Campbell explained what he remembered, it would help her, too. But  what if it didn't? What if it made things worse, or Elle left before  then, or left anyways?
Crawling into bed, Campbell sighed. Happy  fucking Halloween. His gaze moved to the clock by his bed. Well, not  Halloween anymore. It was a little past midnight. It was November 1st.  Almost winter. A bad time to find one's self isolated. His bed felt  cold, he felt cold, and something in him felt... off, detached,  shivering and alone, even with other people in the same house. It had  been a while since he'd felt that way. Best to get used to it. Things  were only going to get colder. Literally and metaphorically, it seemed.  But Harry still looked at him warmly. Grizz was a friend. And Sam. Sam  was there for him, too, maybe.
Campbell closed his eyes. He just had to take his own advice.
Find a reason, and keep going.
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fii-nixx · 3 years
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Where the Oceans Meet
Chapter 3: Where the Past meets the Present.
The morning sun crested over the tree line, and seeped through the leaves. The warm light caressed the scenery, only to be broken by the groans of an Elven hunter who is now lying prone on the hard ground. “Now what did we learn today?” I laughed at his misfortune. “Don’t question you when you say you can handle yourself.” “Don’t question me period. Come on, you just learned this?” I leaned down over him, smiling. “Glad to see you’re in such a good mood now. I was getting tired of your moaning the whole trip.”  I helped him up off the ground and grabbed our bags as he dusted himself off. “It’s always nice to get some of the frustrations of the road out in a healthy manner! I mean, it’s not like you’ll actually let me hurt you. You just didn’t know what you were getting yourself into.” Thendril laughed, “And that’s how you got the jump on me. You can’t say that you wouldn’t second guess your abilities, if you were in my position. You never had any formal training like I have, so how was I to know that you could kick my ass into the ground.” We laughed as we began our journey once again. 
The road began to get clearer, and more traveled as we got deeper into the forest. After a few more minutes, we began to come across more and more travelers. Their clothes became more fine and more earth tones the closer to the citadel we traveled. Thendril silently pulled me closer, going so far as to wrap an arm around my shoulders as if he was comforting me or shielding me. Bending his face down to mine, he spoke. “Please don’t fight me right now. We have eyes on us. They are watching us closely.” He has gone into Hunter mode now, his quarry now being threatened. He started to walk us faster through the square, voices shouting behind us, heralding the Prince’s return home with his presumed bride. The sounds of the Elven language harkened in a song that was hypnotic almost like that of a siren’s. 
Here he comes, back from war. The love he has beside him, beauty prevails on his line. Hail thine the Goddess bless, Thendril Starblessed, with his Elyia of the sea and sky. His life force strong as his heart beats undeterred, to make them two in Time’s eye.
“Fuck. Come on Illia, we must go.” He urges me through the doors as we enter what looks like a kitchen. “They don’t know how to keep their big mouths shut, I swear. Look at me. Look at me, Illia!” My eyes snap to his, wide and disoriented. “Oh what have they done to you?” His hand caresses my cheek as I lean into his touch. “I don’t know how I feel this way, Thendril. What did they do? What spell has been cast? I feel as I did before my sire betrayed me.” He sighs, running a hand over his face and through his hair. “It was a blessing from the priests. They’ve always assumed that I would become involved with a siren, like my father was alleged to be. That particular blessing would only have an effect on any with siren blood in them. To anyone else, it would just be random gibberish that sounds sweet.” “Why did they call me Elyia?” Thendril stops. “It means loved one, in my language. Usually reserved for family members, or close friends, or lovers. Why do you ask?” I shake myself out of this confusion, “That’s what your father called my mother in my dream.” The silence around us was deafening, as the reality of what was said bounced around our minds. While our senses were clouded by the effects of the blessing and the knowledge that was shared, we almost missed the soft clacking of heels on the stone floors, of them moving closer to us. In one fell swoop, Thendril pulled me behind him, shielding me further from the intruder. “So you have decided to return home, Brother. How unfortunate.” The stranger spoke with a scowl, disdain evident on their face. “Avaline. How have you been since I’ve been gone. I hope father hasn’t given you too much of a bad time, trying to have you fill in for my duties.” Thendril’s voice dripped with sarcasm, obviously he was not fond of his brother. “What are you doing here anyways, aren’t you supposed to be searching for that little inbreed of father’s? Wasn’t that the whole point of your little adventure? To find them, so father would love you again after all your mistakes, and not send you off to the Badlands.” This Avaline seems so full of hatred and anger. I couldn’t help but want to punch them in the face, which I would have done if Thendril didn’t have such a good hold on me. As if sensing my actions, his grip tightened. “If you must know brother, that was never the reason why I was sent, instead of you. Father knew that I could handle the situation delicately, unlike you and your kidnappings that almost tore the land apart. You had your chance and you blew it. Don’t take that hatred out on me.” He pushed past his brother, pulling me alongside him, still holding me in such a way that I was left clinging to him as we walked. “What was that all about?”, I asked after a while. “That, insignificant pill bug of a man, is my brother. Well, my half brother. He was my mother’s child before she married my father. It’s a long story.” He rushed through his words, as if to tell me not to push it.  My mind rushed, as memories flashed behind my eyes of beautiful women dancing through halls of stone. My head ached, as though these memories were being ripped through the deep recesses of my mind. As if I was never meant to see them. Spotted vision of dark ambers and blinding crismon, cloud my every thought as Thendril rushed me through the citadel. The color of my cerulean irises drained to black, the wisps of hair not tied back under the hood floating as if held under water. High above the city, a storm brewed and lightning struck the many parapets around the city.
All of this went by Thendril’s notice. It was until the sounds of thunder rolled through the halls, and the winds picked up their speed enough to knock the hood off my head, that he finally noticed that something was amiss. As he turned toward me, he was left speechless. I could only imagine what exactly it was that he saw to leave him in such a state. “Illia, is everything alright? You look different?” I blinked, and just like that, it was as if nothing had happened. Color rushed back into my vision, my hair stopping its gravity defying attributes. “I-I don’t actually know. I wasn’t myself for a moment there. What happened? My head feels like it’s been split in two.”  Thendril grabbed my face, not too gently I might add. He looked deep into my eyes, as if to see some sort of window that showed what was ailing me. Turning my head this way and that, even going so far as to tilt my head so he might see the back of my head to look for a bump. “You didn't hit your head and didn’t tell me did you?” His unexpected humor has me worried, as I had never heard him crack more than a scathing remark in my direction. “Are you sure that you’re okay Then? I’ve never seen you this worried over anything, not even when that crow stole the map.” I took his hands in mine, gently taking them off my face. I also took this moment to lightly butt heads with him, knocking him out of his reverie. “I apologize. I think you had some sort of episode, your eyes changed color, you could feel the magic in the air. It was quite electrifying.”
“Oh.” I glanced to the side. “Oh?” I shifted a little bit, in my position against the wall. “It happens sometimes, when I remember things from the past.” I refused to make eye contact, “I think it was another mom flashback. I think something bad happened here to her, something that made her want to leave in the end. I don’t think it was my sire that had her leave, I think them meeting here was an effect, not a cause. I don’t usually have these episodes while I’m awake, they normally happen when I’m sleeping. Sorry, I’m rambling, my head hurts so bad.” As I spoke, my voice got softer and softer, until eventually I grew silent as I lost consciousness.
The room I woke in was cold, colder than the bottom of the lakes I would swim in. Was it the room, or was it just myself that was cold, I wouldn’t know. It was then that I realized that I wasn’t in a room. I was in a fish tank, one that took up the entirety of the walls of the tower. I was floating lightly, at the bottom of this tank among the ferns and kelp that reminded me so much of my mother’s home. Glancing down, I noticed my fins were a much duller shade of my usual colors. The bright reds and greens, now a sickly grey. The only color that seemed to not be affected, was the black accents around the edges of my tail. I sigh, feeling the water fill my lungs and exit the gills on my throat. It’s been so long since I phased. I almost forgot that I could. Must have lost control again for it to be this bad. Slowly, I run my hands down my scales, wincing everytime I nick a loose one. I lost track of time as I went about cleaning my scales and putting order to my tail and fins once again. The color slowly returned as old and rotten scales were removed making way for the newer scales that were waiting to see the light. 
“You need to take better care of yourself Elyia. You never used to let a scale get out of place let alone lose their shine as you have. I hope you don’t mind, I’ve taken the liberty of having you rest in your old room. It seems it’s been a while since you have transformed into your true form, dear. You should know how important it is for you to be in water at least a few times a century, lest you forget how to swim!” This new voice joked and scolded me, as if I was an old friend. In a way I guess I was. “Oh, I forgot how beautiful you were in your youth Elyia. The change of shape may hide your memories of us, and has given you new features, but I would know the feel of your magic anywhere.” Poking my head out from the kelp and other deep sea greenery, I saw who was addressing me for the first time. “Hello, you must forgive me, but my access to my mother’s memories is limited. Can you please remind me of who you are?” His silver-grey eyes lit up in remembrance, his now long grey hair fell over his face as he bowed. “Of course, my dear. You may have remembered me as Jay, but my given name is Aldere Jaynearys.” I grimaced at this. Jay laughed, “Yes, your mother hated it too. Thought it was too much of a mouthful to say behind closed doors, so she took it upon herself to give me a nickname. Much like I hear you’ve done for my son.”  I hid my face with my hands, groaning. “Of course he would tell you that.” Once again, Jay laughed. “Don’t be too hard on my son. He only told me what he felt was necessary from his journey. And yes this included all of your whining, as well as the little episode you had that caused that storm we experienced. Before you worry, nobody was hurt from your little temper tantrum over the memories you saw.” I flipped over onto my back, wincing as I forgot the fins on my arms existed and caught them on the rocks around me. “When was the last time you were in that form Elyia? It seems as if you’ve forgotten what you have and don’t have.”
“That would be because I have forgotten. It’s been too long, I didn’t have half these spines the last time I shifted. In fact I think I missed some when I was freshening up. Is there someone who can help me get the scales on my back, it's very uncomfortable.” Jay thought for a moment. “Of course Elyia, you are after all a very important guest of mine. Your every need will be attended to for as long as you are with us. I will be certain to tell my son his attention is needed here. I am glad that you are back home where you belong, Illia, my promise to your mother is fulfilled.” With that, the lord brushed out of the room, deaf to my protests of having Thendril help with such an intimate area. Well kelp bits. That wasn’t what I was expecting at all.
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