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#because it really does fit the relationship he has with red fountain but something about it!! is off!! and it bothers me so much!!
floralovebot · 1 year
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I’d suggest you can try looking into Hozier’s songs for Helia’s playlist, like Work Song, In A Week and Moment’s Silence do give me helia vibes!
Thank you for the suggestions!! I've always really liked the idea of associating Hozier's song with Helia! I actually have like real people do on his playlist rn !
I really liked moment's silence but I actually added it to Nabu's instead! I liked the idea of it for Helia but I feel like the sound of it and even the lyrics really matched Nabu and aibu! I also really like work song and I've contemplated it for Helia before but I was never able to convince myself that it was his song yknow? While there are more intense songs on his playlist rn, I feel like it's a bit too intense? Or maybe the vibe of the song is too intense for him? I'm not sure what it is exactly since I do like the song and can definitely see it for florelia, but something about it just isn't quite right for them,,, :(
Also, I like in a week but i don't like thinking about rotting corpses so unfortunately i usually can't listen to that one ajldghladjgh
#i feel like for work song its the religious vibes? while i love the songs themself - i feel like theyre too intense for helia#quite a few of his songs have that worship vibe whether with the lyrics or the choir background vocals or the instrumental itself#and while there have been songs in that past that i associated with helia that had a similar sound#i think its specifically that christian / catholic religious guilt/worship sound that i dont associate with him#it definitely fits him but something about it is off and i can't figure out what!!#because it really does fit the relationship he has with red fountain but something about it!! is off!! and it bothers me so much!!#13th century religious music tends to fit him more i feel? like specifically that medieval religious sound?#at least in terms of worshiping your lover or having that guilt i feel like that sound works best for him rather than the more -#'modern' vibe hozier typically has (obviously its not Actually modern it is heavily influenced by older music)#answered#anyway when i add songs to the character playlists i specifically try to add songs that i feel the character could actually sing/speak#and while i like the lyrics for them i feel like the references to religion aren't something he would regularly say?#there's actually a song by eurielle called city of the dead that has the exact religious vibe that i would associate with helia!!#the lyrics don't really work for canon!helia but at least for the sound/vibe of the song it really works for him for an intense feel#and that's another episode of me overthinking their playlists way too much!!#alkhgdljahdg but still thank you !! ik it may not seem like it but every suggestion is really helpful !!#im sorry i shit on your suggestions though i feel bad 😞
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gucciwins · 4 years
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Weeping Willow
Harry sends his wife for a girl’s night, and their five-month-old baby falls sick.
Word count: 5,093
A/N: i am no expert on babies (unless it’s my almost two-year-old niece) but i have it on good authority this does bring down fevers. This was written for @tbslenthusiast dadathon. i hope you love it. xx
___
It's a Saturday night, and Harry tries his best to convince his wife to go out with her friends for a nice dinner while he cares for baby Willow.
Their five-month-old infant. The sweetest little girl to grace the earth in Harry's opinion. 
He's never felt a love like this, a never-ending love for his child. He swears he has never been more in love with his wife, his twin flame, for giving him the greatest gift he will ever receive. 
She's standing there cradling Willow in her arms as she begins to drift off to sleep. Humming a song she hasn't shared with Harry. Something special between mother and daughter. As much as Harry hates to admit it but their daughter is a momma's girl at heart. 
Willow feels that extra protection from her mother; he gives her all the cuddles and kisses, but there is no more special bond than when Y/N holds her close to her heart, and Willow settles down in seconds. When she is breastfeeding, Y/N tells her the stories of her childhood and when Harry and she were first dating. 
It's the irregular sleep schedule that Y/N has never once complained about. 
Harry wakes up at the oddest of times when he stretches his arms out to reach for Y/N to pull her close to his chest only to find her missing. More time than not, he'll find her at their windowsill, Willow getting her night time meal as Y/N gazes at the moon softly singing Lolo a lullaby that was once sung to Y/N. The moonlight bouncing off her skin made her look eternal as if she weren't real, and Harry just imagined up this life. 
But she is real, and she is all his, and their daughter is theirs. 
As a kid, this was the life he dreamed of, never knowing if it would come true or not. He will never stop being grateful for all he has in life, full of love. 
Harry is brought out of his thoughts when Y/N addresses him. 
"I don't know, H. She's a little warm." Y/N stands there, the back of her hand gently placed on her baby's forehead before moving it to Willow's cheek. She smiles down at her sleeping baby.
Harry sighs, extending his arms for her to hand him their small baby. She shakes her head, taking two steps back. 
Harry chuckles because he knew this would happen, but he forgot how stubborn she could be. 
She's wearing Harry's lilac robe, her hair curled, and makeup is done. He made her do a red lipstick because he missed it. It's one that Gemma gave her that's smudge and transfer free. Meaning he can kiss her with it all night long without his lips turning red. 
"Willow is fine. Maybe she passed some gas." 
She rips her gaze from Willow and shoots him a glare. He puts his hands up in defense. 
"If she starts feeling sick, you know the crying won't stop. She likes it when I soothe her."
"She's my daughter too. I can take care of her and soothe her just as good."
She kisses Willow's head, slowly continuing to grow brown curls just like Harry's. "I know you can, but there's this motherly instinct telling me not to go."
"My husband instinct is saying that my wife should go out to dinner with her friends for a nice dinner and some wine." Harry rebuttals. 
"I don't drink." She mutters into her baby's head as she adjusts her to lay on her chest as she sways side to side. 
"Well, then go crazy with the strawberry lemonade." 
She sighs. Harry knows she's close to giving in. 
Her clothes set out in bed, ready for her to throw on. Harry chose her outfit, and he's proud of it. Camel-tone flared fitted trousers, a black fitted v-neck, and a double-breasted twill blazer to tie the look. Her black Gucci 'sucker' boots waiting for her at the door to be slipped on then head out the door. 
"If I go, you have to promise to text me every hour." 
"Half hour if you really need it." He counters. 
She shakes her head, no. "If you do that, I'll be home by the second text." 
He nods, happy she agreed to go. She needs this no matter how much she had been fighting it. 
"Alright, Lolo, I'm going to leave you with your Daddy for a few hours. I hope you don't miss me too much. I'll make up for leaving you with cuddles for the whole night, munchkin." 
Harry's eyes well up, always in awe at the relationship between his wife and their daughter. Their beautiful five-month-old daughter who Harry, thinks is growing too fast. She's still on the small side, but the doctor assured them she was doing good. 
Y/N placed her in the crib that Harry put together with Gemma's help, who wanted to be involved with as much as Harry would let her. 
She stirs a little, but Y/N pats her chest softly, calming her down. 
"I'm going to go get dressed. Turn on the baby monitor, please?" She points in the direction of it.
"On it, love." 
She walks out and gets dressed quickly, knowing there's a reservation, and she doesn't like arriving late. Harry meets her downstairs baby monitor in hand as she stands boots safely on her feet. 
Harry shamelessly checks her out. He almost begs her to stay after seeing how good she looks, but he knows she needs this.
"Text me when you get there." He wraps her in a hug, not wanting to let go just yet. 
"Of course." 
She pulls back, looking up at him before leaning in to peck his lips three times; she walks out the door, bag in hand, when Harry tugs her wrist, turning her around connecting his lips with hers. It's a short passionate kiss, Harry's tongue fighting for dominance. She lets out a small moan. Y/N, let's Harry be the one to pull back, not at all wanting to break the kiss. 
Harry smirks as he sees the dazed look in her eyes. "Just so you know what you have waiting at home for you." 
"You menace." Harry leans on the door as she walks out. "I love you, H." 
"And I love you." 
Harry watched as she drove away before going back in and heading straight to the nursery, where his darling Willow is still sleeping.  
"Just you and me, Lolo," Harry whispers as he sits in the rocking chair and lays back to rest his eyes. It's like they say when the baby sleeps, he does as well. 
____
Harry wakes up when he hears a small sneeze. He peeks at Willow, but she still has her eyes closed. He picks up his phone to check how long he slept and is shocked. It was only twenty minutes; he felt like it had been much longer now, feeling a bit more energized. 
He sees a text Darling and opens it, 
I've arrived safely. 
I miss you both so much already. xx 
Harry can't help but smile. He misses her already. He might always be playing music in the house that fills the silence, but Harry only does it because she sings along to each song no matter how bad she can butcher the lyrics to an unknown song. 
She fills the home with warmth and love. 
I love you! Lolo is still sleeping. Have a lovely night. xx 
Harry sat in the rocking chair, just gazing at his daughter. Her cheeks were a little red, but he thought she might be a bit warm. He unwraps the blanket, just watching her stretch out her small fists. 
Willow slowly blinks her eyes open, a small smile on her face when she sees her father looking down at her. 
"You up, Lolo? No more sleep, I'm guessing." 
She continues to stare at Harry before turning her head to the door. Harry knows she's waiting for someone to come in. After a few moments of no movements, Willow looks at Harry, giving her a small smile.
"Waiting for your Mum, I know. She'll be back later; for now, it's you and me." 
Harry reaches in to pick her up, gently shushing her, not wanting her to start crying. He walks down the stairs slowly, the fear of tripping down the stairs more present than ever with his baby in his arms. 
Harry sits her on the couch, a pillow propped up on the back to help support her back, and grabs her stuffed bunny that was left on the coffee table. It's her favorite toy to play with at all times. 
Willow sets it in her lap, not at all looking at it, eyes on Harry. He sees her eyes begin to well up, and he knows the tears are coming. He scoops her up gently, letting the bunny fall to the floor so Harry could soothe his baby. 
"My Willo baby, no tears. You know it breaks my heart." He begins shushing gently. Gemma swears by it watching Alice do the Ss in New Amsterdam. Y/N does it too, her grandma teaching her that when she helped watch over younger cousins. 
This settles her for a second, resting her head in the crook of Harry's neck as he rubs a hand gently down her back. "Good baby, Momma would be proud of us." He knows he made a mistake once she lets out a loud wail. 
He can only assume the word Momma did it for her. 
His phone alarm begins to ring, meaning it's the hour update, and if he doesn't check-in, she'll call, and if he doesn't answer, she'll worry even more and drive herself more. He does not need that happening. 
Harry will not let her call; he'll send a sleeping photo of Willow to Y/N to keep her calm because he can do this. He can tend to his child alone. She's half of his DNA; why wouldn't he be able to. 
His Mum always told him babies cry for three reasons: dirty diaper, sleepy, and hunger. He assumes she's hungry. Has to be, her diaper doesn't feel full, and she also doesn't smell. 
As Harry goes to the kitchen, he stops at the fridge. He sees all the magnets that Y/N loves collecting when visiting a new country, state, or city. Her favorite being the Trevi Fountain. Tells her every time she sees it, she can see Harry down on his knee, tears in his eyes and heart wide open for her. Safe to say it became his favorite as well. Right under it is a yellow sticky note "Just in case xx Dr. Harp" The phone number of Willow's pediatrician. 
Y/N really is the best, but he knows that he has everything under control, or at least he keeps telling himself that as Willow continues her crying, no amount of words calms her. He'd also call his Mum before the pediatrician, who would only end up calling Y/N. 
"Mummy left your milk in the fridge; now, all we have to do is warm it up." 
Willow's cries go quiet for a second at what Harry can only think was at word milk. He can do this. 
They don't bottle feed her as often, both preferring her to breastfeed directly from Y/N. Harry encouraged her to pump milk because Y/N has complained over too many milk stained shirts. It has helped her tremendously. A few times, when Y/N was too tired to get up, he offered to warm the milk to feed Willow. Y/N knew how important it was for Harry, so she allowed him and began pumping more for Harry to help provide her during the day. 
He gets a bowl and fills it with hot water, then places the bottle in. He knows it should be a few minutes, he begins singing to Willow. He sings her the song he wrote for his sister, which holds meaning to Y/N now, finding a connection that makes them feel at peace when hearing the song. As Harry gently sings 'Sweet Creature,' he sees her settle, nose runny from the tears, he grabs one of her clothes that Y/N keeps in the kitchen. Truth be told, she has them spread all over the house to have one on hand when necessary. He wipes the snot then drapes it over his open shoulder. He checks the temperature, able to hear Y/N scold him in his head for wanting to skip the step. 
"Lolo, going to go sit down, and then you can begin eating." She blinks up at him, her green eyes unfocused, refusing to settle on one place of his face. 
He sits and adjusts Willow to cradle her in his arms. He does a final temperature check on his wrist and is happy with the outcome. He slowly brings it up to her lips to startle her, and she latches on after a few seconds. 
Harry leans back on the chair, releasing a long sigh. He feels victorious, even just for a moment. 
The phone on the couch seat next to him displays a text:
 I love you both. xx 
He's in the clear. 
Harry sings Willow the first song that pops into his head, well he mainly hums as she has her eyes closed and a fist clenched on her blanket and the other tucked in. He pulls the bottle away once he sees no more movement. He wipes the outside of her mouth very carefully to not disturb her. 
"Willow, Angel, I need to burp you. You shouldn't even feel it." Harry likes warning her; he knows she understands. 
He's done relatively quickly, settling her back in his arms to let her sleep. Harry would love to turn the television on, but he settles for staring at the angel in his arms. 
Harry frowns when he sees Willow's eyes flutter open. She sleeps longer after eating. 
"Lolo, it's barely been ten minutes. That's not enough for a growing baby. You need to grow up to be strong, just like Momma."
Willow lets out a small cough. It startles Harry, not having heard the sound before. He gently picks her up and begins patting her back, soothing her as she calms down. 
Harry thinks back to the phone number stuck on the fridge but shakes the thought away because one cough is not enough to make a call, especially this late at night. 
He is now slowly walking in front of the couch, trying to get her to fall back to sleep. It's not working. 
It starts off in small whimpers before turning into loud wails. 
This is not good. 
Harry tries his best to place his baby's cries, but it does not sound familiar. He isn't calling Y/N; worrying her is not part of tonight's plans, but there is someone in mind who will always answer him. Without thinking twice, he goes to favorites and picks the second person. 
"Hello love, how are you?" 
He's greeted by a calming voice, but it does nothing to soothe the pounding in his heart. "Hi, Mum." Harry isn't even sure she heard with Willow's loud cries. 
"Is something wrong? Why is little Willow crying? Where's Y/N?" Anne is quick to jump in.
"Today was her first girl's night out that I was insistent she go out to even though she didn't want to, but she should be back in the next hour or so." He addressed that question before jumping into the most important one. "Willow coughed then settled down before bursting into this cry. I've never heard it before. It's not her hungry one because she ate half an hour ago, and her diaper is clean." He lets out a sob he didn't know he was holding back. 
"Oh, dear, right. First off, is she hot? warmer than usual." 
Harry pulls her back, face scrunched up, nose full of snot. He places the back of his hand on his forehead, and it's burning. "Yes, she's warm. But couldn't it be from the crying?" 
Anne sighs, worried for her son, but this is parenthood having to see your child get sick and old help them through it. The first time is always the worst, but each time after that still breaks your heart. "No love, check her temperature and call the pediatrician. Tell her the symptoms, and you can go from there. Right, hang up, call Y/N, and the pediatrician in that order." 
Harry agrees to get her off the phone and to make the call right away. Anne knows Harry well enough that he will skip one important thing she told him to do, so she takes it upon herself to get it done. 
 He heads upstairs, sitting the still crying Willow in the crib as he searches for the thermometer he knows Y/N keeps next to the wipes for emergencies. He is quick to take off her shirt as gently as one can be and sticks it under her armpit as he waits for it to ring as he dials Dr. Harp.
There is an answer on the third ring, just as the thermometer beeps. 
"Dr. Harp, hello, it's Harry Styles, father of Willow Styles." He says in a rush.
"Yes, Mr. Styles, what can I do for you." The doctor's voice is kind, and it calms Harry knowing there's a professional helping him. 
"Well, my daughter slept about ten minutes before waking up after eating, and that isn't normal for her. She had a bit of a cough and has not stopped crying for the past twenty minutes now. She's burning up Doc. The thermometer says 103F. Shit, I meant 39C. My wife's family got us a fancy thermometer that gives us both numbers." He feels the need to explain a hand on the back of Willow's head, trying to calm her down as well as himself. 
"Well, it seems it could be a common cold. There is not a lot to do, except keep your baby drinking milk. Mrs. Styles is still breastfeeding, correct?"
"Yes."
"Okay, it's important to keep her hydrated and check with her through the night. To bring down the temperature, a lukewarm bath would help as well as a humidifier because, from the sounds of it, she is a bit congested." 
Harry nods along to everything she is saying, repeating it back. "Thank you so much, Dr. Harp." 
"It's no problem; if the fever doesn't break or gets higher than 40C, then I suggest you head straight to the hospital." Dr. Harp says her goodbyes as he picks up Willow and heads to their bedroom, taking her into their bathroom. 
He looks around, not sure what to do first that he misses the sound of the door opening and closing as well as footsteps up the stairs. It might have also been Willow's crying. 
Willow lock's eyes with Y/N over Harry's shoulder, stopping for a second, causing Harry to gasp before she starts up louder than before for not being in her mother's arms. 
"Willow, darling," Y/N smiles at her daughter, cheeks red and nose snotty but still her beautiful baby. 
Harry feels like he can breathe properly now that she's home with him. His missing half home, finally feeling complete. He does feel awful for not calling her right away, but he swore she was having a good time. 
Harry hands over Willow to Y/N's waiting arms watching as she cradles her close, pressing repeated kisses to her daughter's brown hair. Willow instantly clenches a fist onto her necklace, not that Y/N minds, but Harry feels guilty for depriving his daughter of her mother. It was his fault she was out tonight. 
"How'd you get here so quick?" Are the first words Harry thinks to say. 
Harry thought she'd be mad at him for not calling, but all he sees are her kind and gentle eyes he fell in love with. 
"Anne called me to update me, but I was already ten minutes from home. I had dinner but got it to go having that nagging feeling you needed me. Anne called it mother's intuition, but" She breathes in Willow's smell, Harry finding it endearing how she always says she smells amazing like peaches. "I swear I could feel how distressed you were. I thought you were having a bad time, so I got you ice cream and brought home a meal we could share." 
He leans against the sink, a small grin forming on his face. "I did always tell you we were soulmates." 
Y/N steps further into the bathroom, heading to the tub to get the water-filled. She sits on the toilet, letting it fill before dipping her hand in from time to time. It feels a bit less than halfway before she closes the tap. 
"Doctor's orders were getting the temperature down, right?" Y/N asks Harry, and he nods. "Well, in the lukewarm bath, she goes." Y/N fakes as if she is going to place Willow in before hugging her to her chest once more. "I'm only playing." She boops Lolo's nose.
"Your momma thinks she's so funny, Lolo." Harry rolls his eyes at her, not at all, hiding the love behind them. 
"Get in the bath with her, H." Y/N has successfully undressed Willow, giving her kisses all over, causing Willow to let out a small giggle. 
Harry near tears now. "That's the first time she laughed this entire night." 
"Honey, listen. She hasn't gotten sick before. It's okay, we're learning." She reaches a hand up to cup his cheek, and he leans into it eagerly. "We are learning together." He nods as she pulls her hand away. "Now, do I need to undress my other baby as well?" 
He smiles. "You're welcome to, but I got this." He slips off the black shirt and grey sweats, leaving on his briefs.
The water is perfect. Not that he expected any different because she does everything with extra care and love for Willow. He's glad to have her as his life partner and mother of his child and future children. 
He slips in, sitting down, letting Y/N gently place Willow on his bent knees. He cups her head, gently sinking himself lower. She hands him a cloth, and he looks at her, eyes wide. 
"Wet it, rinse it a bit, then just sponge it around her." 
He nods but doesn't move to receive it. Y/N moves forward, dips it in the water, and squeezes it leaving a bit of water. She gently gets Lolo's back patting before moving down. 
"Thank you." He says and accepts the cloth. 
Y/N makes her way to the bedroom. "You're leaving?" He questions, causing Willow to look at her as well. 
She laughs at her two loves, both wanting her close. "Going to turn on the humidifier. It's going to be good for her and her congestion. Then will get you both a new change of clothes before coming back. Is that okay with you both?" 
Harry looks down at Willow that still has her eyes on her Momma. "What do you think, Lolo? Think we should let Momma take care of us." He hums as if hearing her response. "She said not to take too long." 
"Wouldn't dream of it." 
Harry settles in, Willow moving her hand in the water, intrigued by the ripples allowing Harry to rinse her. He feels good, feels great, and can honestly help her and no longer cry about it. 
Y/N knows he needs this but hopes she isn't feeling too awful about leaving Willow when she got sick for the first time.
For all, he knows she could be crying in their bedroom or, even worse, the nursery where he can't hear her. 
But that's what Harry is here to remind her what a fantastic team they are and how she saved the day like always. He's proud of her just as he knows she's proud of him. 
____
It's twenty minutes when Y/N walks back in. Now dressed in grey sweats and an old white shirt that Willow loves to cling on. She approaches, and Harry raises Willow so that she can wrap her in the yellow towel. 
"My munchkin smells so good." She kisses her cheek. She turns to look at Harry with a smile on her face making him smile back. "Shower, I'm going to dress her, and then I'll bring your clothes in."
"Okay, love." 
Harry drains the water before turning on the showerhead, letting the warm water wash away the stress in his body. He doesn't take too long, wanting to cuddle his two girls all night long.
Walking out, dressing in the warm clothes that she must have thrown in the dryer for him knowing how he likes to be warm after a long night. He smiles, slipping the shirt over his head, slipping on the black sweats with no need for briefs. Turning off the bathroom light, closing the door, he sees Willow lying on Y/N's chest. 
"How is she doing?" Harry paddles over, hovering over Y/N to kiss her forehead, doing the same to Willow.
"Better, the temperature is at 98." 
Harry smiles, glad she's under three digits again. She looks sweet dressed in a bodysuit with small bumble bees all over. Y/N wrapped the knitted mint green blanket that Y/N's mother made for Willow around her shoulder to keep her warm but not enough to overheat.
"That's great. Our baby is so strong." Harry gets in bed and sits against the headboard, making Y/N shift over to rest her head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around Willow for support. 
____
It's an hour of silence basking in hearing their baby's breathing. Not as smooth due to the congestion but better than before. Harry places a kiss on Y/N's forehead when he feels the first tear, then many more follow. A sob breaking out, but breathing even to not disturb their sleeping baby on her chest. 
"Love, lovie, hey. Don't cry. She's doing better already." He wraps the arm tighter, hoping he can transfer all his love for her through the hug. 
"I'm just overwhelmed." She chokes out. 
Harry sits up to face her, reaches his hands out to wipe her rapidly falling tears.
"Please don't be mad with yourself; if there is anyone to be mad at, it's me." He pleads for her to understand. "I told you to leave us be." 
"Not mad at you, honey." She whimpers. "I-I-I'm upset I wasn't here to help you. But you handled it so well. Very proud of you." 
Harry sits there, tears falling out of his eyes now because she was proud. He did nothing. He knows he did nothing; he called his Mum and the doctor. He never got her to stop crying.
"I didn't do anything."
"Honey, you did." Her voice firm, one hand reaching up to gently raise his head to look at her. "You called Anne because you knew she would help and then called Dr. Harp for help." 
"But she never stopped crying, not until you held her." 
She shakes her head. "She was feeling bad, she cried at discomfort and unusual feelings. Might have also sensed your panic," She teases. He lets out a small chuckle. 
"We're a team. Together and apart, H." 
Harry lays down on his side, pulling Y/N down with him. He does it slowly to not move Willow; Harry lays his head on her shoulder, looking down at their baby. He lets himself relax, knowing she's going to be okay.
"I love you." He whispers. No response causing him to look up at a grinning Y/N. "Say it back." 
She giggles. "Thought you were talking to Lolo." 
"That was for you, wife." 
"My bad," She pecks his nose. "I love you, H." 
"Missed." He mutters, puckering his lips in her directions. 
"Dork." She closes the small distance and hums at the sweet taste that is Harry and mint toothpaste. He deepens it for a few seconds before pulling back. His eyes closed. He kisses her from her cheeks to her collarbones, no spot left untouched. He steals one more kiss before settling down. 
"Sleep tight, my darling, Willow," Harry whispers, throwing his arm over Willow's small body and Y/N's stomach for extra protection.
He peeks one eye open to see Y/N smiling down at Willow, no sign of sleep in her features. "I take it you won't be going out anytime soon again." 
"You got that right." She jokes. "No, it was nice. I forgot how good it is to chat about anything other than what size diapers she's going to need next."
"That's not all we talk about. We also talk about the size of your boobs." 
She snorts at his comment, and he happily joins in. 
"We haven't had a date night, well we have but indoors with a baby always in arms." 
Harry smirks. "What do you have in mind, love?" 
She blushes, "We go away for the weekend, leave Willow with Anne or Mitch since he keeps saying we keep his goddaughter away from him." 
"You'd be okay with that?" Harry checks, making sure she really wants this. 
She nods. "I'll miss her like crazy, my heart is beating faster just at the thought, but I miss you." There's a gleam in her eye, one when she gets lost in a memory. "It's quickies and late-night conversations. As much as I love our daughter, I miss my best friend." 
Harry grins, glad she's sharing this. "Any other time, I'd make a joke, but honestly, I miss you just as much." 
"Then, coordinate with Jeff on a weekend you're free and look for a place we can go to. Driving or flying whatever you find best." 
"Oh, baby, I'm going to make you fall in love with me all over again." 
"I'm counting on it, Harry." 
Harry helps Y/N drift off to sleep with his ideas of where they can go and all the naughty things they will get up to. 
Harry knows nothing in life will be better than being in the arms of his two favorite girls.
___
Thank you for reading. Please reblog it means a lot to me. 
Come and tell me what you thought of Weeping Willow 
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shywitchyfangirl · 3 years
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Tips for Beginning Spirit Workers!
Me? Posting something useful instead of just memes? GASP!
1. Plan communication and housing methods in advance. This is your responsibility, not the spirits’. Housing can include binding them to an object, binding them to yourself, letting them wander your house, or (my personal method) building an astral temple for them. Communication can take all kinds of forms, including dreams, hallucinations, Ouija boards, body sensations, intrusive thoughts, and telepathy. When starting out, you’ll probably be working with sensations and intrusive thoughts, and work your way up to other forms. An important thing to remember is if you’re ever unsure if something was them, assume it was. False negatives do far more harm than false positives when you’re trying to learn how to communicate. Assuming your spirit said something they didn’t might annoy them, but denying real messages will prevent you from developing your senses and harm your relationship with them.
2. Set boundaries and keep them! It doesn’t matter who they are, how powerful they are, or if they’re a literal god. You have rights, and they do not own you. Take no excuses, make no compromises. You don’t need to explain anything. If you give some spirits an inch, they’ll take a mile. I have a rule that no one can possess me while I’m on my period. Why? Because I don’t want them to, end of discussion. If anyone throws a fit about your boundaries, you don’t want to work with them anyway. If you’re planning to let them stick around, setting house rules is also very important! (”Don’t mess with the other human residents” is always a good starting point.)
3. Doubt happens. Even the most experienced spirit worker has moments of “Oh gods, I’m just crazy and talking to myself.” Don’t beat yourself up over it! Healthy skepticism is what keeps us sane. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad spirit worker. Try taking a moment to reflect on the times when your spirits did something that proved themselves to you, because I promise, those moments will happen too! One of my earliest moments was when a spirit possessed my and drew a bunch of dicks in my notebook before I even realized what she was drawing. If you haven’t had one of those moments yet, just remember the golden rule: You can’t be imagining it, because your imagination should never surprise you.
3.5 Know your craft, not others’. Related to the above, a big source of doubt is when you read about other spirit workers’ doing things differently. Remember, the term UPG (Unverified Personal Gnosis) exists for a reason. Your Mileage May Vary! Every spirit worker experiences spirits differently. Different doesn’t mean wrong. Figure out what’s best for you and your spirits, and have confidence in your craft.
4. Don’t trust just anyone. Not every spirit you contact will be on your side. Some have their own agenda, others just want a plaything. Some spirits will pretend to be someone else to get past your defenses. The best way to stay safe is to always trust your instincts. If a spirit gives you a “bad vibe,” DITCH THEM. Never give them the benefit of the doubt. There is not a single spirit you NEED to have in your life, and thus there’s no reason to give a sketchy spirit a chance. Aside from that, don’t just assume any spirit you contact will be friendly and benevolent. Most spirit workers go through a “vetting” period of at least 3 months before deciding if a spirit is truly good to join their team. Yes, THREE MONTHS. You don’t want to allow just any powerful astral being into your life, do you? Remember, spirits have power, and they CAN hurt you. If you wouldn’t allow any random stranger into your house, don’t allow any random spirit into your life.
5. Do your research! Spirits aren’t human, and they don’t have the same wants and needs as humans. Research in advance what the particular species you’re summoning wants and needs. If they’re from a pop culture series, research the series. Research their friends, family, and enemies. Know who they will or won’t work well with. If they’re a nonhuman character, pay special attention to their species’ attributes, such as behavior, communication, and any unusual needs or weaknesses. You are responsible for your spirits’ safety while they’re with you! Remember, there’s no such thing as knowing too much. The more you know, the better prepared you’ll be!
6. Respect their boundaries. Not every spirit wants to be worshipped, especially pop culture ones. Some find it flattering, others find it creepy. Similarly, not every spirit wants to be your best friend forever, and not every spirit is eagerly waiting for your call every second of every day. Spirits may be cool, but don’t be a stalker. Give them some dang space. Also accept that many spirits don’t plan to stay with you forever. There may be a few that will be with you until you die (or even follow you to your next life!) but the vast majority have lives outside of you just like humans do, and there will be a time when you don’t need them or vice versa. Don’t feel bad about them leaving, and don’t try to force them to stay. Spirits come and go, and it does not mean you’re a bad spirit worker if you lose a few allies. Your closest friends will be the ones who choose you, and those are the ones you really want in your inner circle.
7. Don’t call up what you can’t put down. Always always ALWAYS have a banishing spell ready, and be sure to start small. Practice with a simple Pikachu before you go summoning Arceus. And keep that banishing spell handy during the vetting period! Many spirit workers suggest doing a banishing spell after every summoning unless you plan on letting the spirit stay permanently. It’s also always a good idea to have some kind of restraint the first few times you call on a spirit, even if it’s just a circle of salt. Personally I like to keep one of my stronger spirit family members around to babysit the new guys.
8. Always stay protected. Shield spells are your best friends. Use them. Keep them updated. There is never a reason to not be shielded. There is also never a reason to not have your house protected. At least once a month, update your wards, cleanse and banish everything, and recharge your home’s energy. Don’t worry, you can set your wards to whitelist your approved spirit family and any specific spirits you want to lure in, but it’s best to not allow just anyone in off the street. Consider placing sigils around to mark your territory as your own, or you may find someone or something trying to move in and claim your house for themselves! 
9. Know the facts about spirit attacks. The first rule is that you’re probably NOT being attacked. If you have to think “Was that a spirit? Am I being attacked?” you’re definitely not being attacked. Spirits are empowered by your fear, they WANT you to know they’re attacking you. One time when I was attacked, the spirit broke my rainbow fountain right in front of me in a way that made both separate lights simultaneously only glow blood red. That doesn’t just happen. And then they immediately and obviously tried to pull me out of my body so they could take it over. The other two times, the spirits tried so hard to suck me out of my body that it made me disoriented and felt like someone was vacuuming my head while my body felt cold. Spirit attacks are always obvious because they’re trying to scare you. Which leads to the second rule: NEVER PANIC. The more afraid you are, the more power they have over you. Stay calm, put up a shield, call a trusted alley to aid you, and banish their ass to next week. Remember, most spirits who attack are just bullies looking for a new toy to torment. Even a simple “fuck off” can give them the message you’re not worth the trouble.
10. Be prepared before opening up to possession. Possession is real, and it can be dangerous. With a trusted ally, it’s tons of fun, and you can even ask them to handle things like chores for you. With literally anyone else, you’re putting your life at risk. There is nothing stopping a strong enough spirit from throwing you off the nearest bridge. The good news is that forced, full possession is rare. The bad news is it can still happen, and it’s very hard to stop when it does. This is why it’s so important to vet your spirit allies before allowing them close to you, ESPECIALLY before letting them possess you. If a spirit shows any sign of not respecting your boundaries, get them the hell out of your life. Luckily, partial possession is much more common (when you’re still in control but either being influenced, or only your limbs are moving without your input). This version can be fought off via internal struggle or countered with a cleansing spell or an ally’s help.
11. Get creative with offerings. Offerings are Spiritwork 101. You won’t be getting a lot of help from spirits if you don’t pay them back. But the important part is knowing exactly what to give them. There are certainly things that are standard, and things that are easy enough to guess (Moon water for the moon goddess, flowers for the nature spirit, etc.) But the best offerings are ones that are personal, creative, and meaningful. Your fairy friend probably has a thousand flowers, but have they tried your pancakes? Would your familiar like a friendship bracelet in their favorite color? Hell, does your ancient ancestor want to try Starbucks? Also note that offerings can be experiences, not just gifts. Some spirits love to hear new music. Jevil loves to possess me and play games, or even just watch me play them. And Seam likes to be cuddled while he possesses a body pillow, or to be read to. The better you get to know your spirit friends, the more ways you’ll find to make them happy.
12. Recognize a spirit calling, but don’t answer them all. As you progress in spirit work, you’ll start receiving “spirit callings”. Callings are different for everyone, but they’re generally feelings of obsession over a certain spirit. You may find yourself thinking “everything would be okay if X was here” when you’re having a bad day. You may find yourself wanting to know everything about them. You might notice signs of them, such as feathers if they have wings.  If it’s a pop culture spirit, you may start obsessively tracking down fanworks of them. If you can’t get a spirit out of your mind, you’re probably being called! This means that good things could happen if you work with this spirit (though it does NOT mean the relationship will last forever!). However, this doesn’t mean you should answer ever single calling. It’s always important to know your limits. If you already have lots of spirits hanging around, adding one more won’t benefit you or them, no matter how strongly you’re called to them. Remember, there will always be another calling. 
13. Know your limits. Speaking of which, remember that you’re responsible for your spirits, and you should never take on more than you can handle. Spirit hoarding is a real thing, and it’s harmful to everyone involved. Know how many spirits you can handle at once, and know how close you can get to each of them. My astral temple is designed to let dozens of spirits come and go as they please, but of those, I’m only comfortable getting truly close to exactly two at a time. There is no shame in letting a spirit you no longer need go before bringing in a new one. There is also no shame in not being perfect. If you need some space for a few days, take it. If all you can muster today is a halfhearted “hello” to your familiar, do it. Your spirit allies will always be there waiting once you’re feeling better. If they’re true allies, they’ll understand if you’re not feeling well and need some time to yourself.
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delldarling · 3 years
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diving stars | hior
male bog mummy x male reader 3754 words citrus | mild description of death, minor mention of blood, mild description of mummy having stitches (though not getting them), kissing, implied future relationship test match-up: Waaaayyyy back when, I decided I should try my hand at some match-ups. I wanted a unique experience for those coming to me for commissions, and so went through several versions of a 'choose your own adventure' kind of personality questionnaire. Matt, or @severedreamerbeard, was one of the people lovely enough to let me test out my match-up process! Thank you a whole gosh darn bunch Matt, for letting me do so in the first place, and I'm going to heap on extra thanks because I've been such a snail about it! <3
————- 🌠 ————-
Much of the bog is a terrible endless black, with nothing to reflect but the cloud covered nighttime sky. Scrubby, dried grass circles the edges of the water, the torchlight making their flickering shadows look like creeping, growing thorns across the opaque surface, ready to snag the unwary and drag them down into the depths. There’ll be no coming back out of that dark water, Hior knows, not once he’s been pushed in.
I’ll close my eyes before I go under, he silently promises, though either way he supposes it shouldn’t matter much. The last thing his body sees will only ever be darkness. He swallows, tucks auburn hair behind his ears, calloused fingers catching at his skin, and pastes on a grim smile, turning to face the gathered people. He can’t linger any longer, no matter how much he would like to, not if he wants the rest of the village to make it through this. Not many of them have gathered, either. Just enough to see the ritual through to the end. Honestly, it’s better this way. If his brother had been allowed to leave the defenses, then Hagan would have interrupted Mother Gree, ritual or not. He would have tried to stop her, tried to stop Hior, even if it meant the loss of the village.
Hagan will be angry.
Hior sweeps his eyes over the surrounding villagers, their frightened faces and trembling hands, their teary eyes reflecting the torches in the misty dark. Hagan will be angry, but the fact of the matter is that he will still be alive to hold onto that anger. Hior can’t find it within himself to regret that.
There’s no time for being maudlin, Hior tells himself, and his smile becomes a bit too wide, stretching painfully at the corners.
This will be the last he ever sees of the village if the Gods deem his offering worthy, but that’s alright. Really. As long as he knows the village will be protected, as long as he knows that his people will do their best to endure, he's willing to fight his way through the Beyond and stay there.
Mother Gree begins to speak in a rough, ragged voice, worn through by years of pipe smoke and leaning over heavily herbed fires. Her words—the spell, the prayer—drape themselves around Hior’s shoulders like a heavy blanket, sweeping away the tension of his worries and the fear of the crowded villagers. Hior’s smile softens.
Mother Gree’s only warning is the icy grasp of her fingers, twisting sharply into the hair at the nape of Hior’s neck. The blade pinches. Wet heat spills down his throat and over his chest, soaking his clothes as he begins to fall backward.
Overhead, the clouds part, and a fierce rumbling fills the air, punctuated by sharp screams. A star, smaller than a pebble, but more brilliant by far than any flickering fire, falls out of the sky. It dives after Hior’s falling body, following him down into the depths of the bog.
The last thing Hior sees is light.
————- 🌠 ————-
It’s midday, or just after, and there are odd shapes in the clouds, like reaching hands backlit by the sunshine. The shifting shades of them make it look like they’re trying very hard to break through the atmosphere, a primordial being grabbing for mortals like marbles. The wind picks up, and the flicker of pale warmth and the cloud hands are blown swiftly away, hidden by a tumult of grey and violet. It shouldn’t rain for hours yet, it’s not supposed to, but you’re starting to doubt the truth of the weather forecast. The sky is very clearly telling all watchers that a storm is on the way.
And here you are: distractedly doing your best to carefully skirt the edges of dreary, muddied water, hunting for a folktale. There are weak spots throughout the area, and one wrong step will have the ground turning to mush underfoot. Which, while fitting with the tales, is the last thing you’d ever want. Risk of drowning aside, all the local stories claim that it's your soul you really need to worry about, or you'll be trapped for eternity as 'a ghost given solid form'.
In other words, from what you’ve pieced together, that might mean something like a zombie?
Water sloshes, lapping strangely at the grassy shore and pulling you clean away from your thoughts. You know you shouldn't linger with the storm on the way, but something about the water keeps you from getting more than a few paces past. The noise, rising steadily, almost bubbling, draws you closer even as tension weighs down your steps. Whatever might be down there, you doubt it's anything pleasant, and you’ve had stories of zombies running through your head all afternoon. You edge closer anyway.
The shore grows terribly soft underfoot the closer you get, and it looks like something is struggling just under the surface, wriggling, a bit like—the water fountains. It soaks your shoe and the hem of your pant leg, while icy droplets speckle over your shirt and face. For a moment, a breath, your eyes fall closed as you attempt to wipe the water away. Something smooth and cold grabs hold of your ankle, yanking your foot forward so you slam back into the ground, a quick burst of pain flares in the back of your skull. Fingernails dig into your skin. You can’t remember shouting, can’t remember a loud noise, but your ears are ringing, adrenaline rocketing through your veins as the hand—the literal hand—heaves with all it’s might, pulling you towards the water. You scrabble backwards, you kick, trying to get free, but the arm tenses, fingers curling tighter around your ankle, heavier than iron. You haven’t gotten loose, but you’re starting to pull whatever is in the water out as you struggle.
The water burbles and the haze of panic begins to clear. This isn’t a story. Someone has just grabbed hold of you. They’re not trying to pull you in, they just want you to pull them out. Because they’re trapped. You suck down air, scrabbling at the hand wrapped around your ankle, trying to get them to grab hold of your wrist instead. Their skin is strange under your touch, hard and smooth and fragile, like flowers dipped in paraffin.
A head finally crests the water, a choking, wheezing noise filling the air as liquid cascades off of his body. His breath sounds wrong though, and his cheeks are hollowed, hair and skin stained with peat. He releases the death grip he has on your ankle, bony, wet fingers smacking against your arm so you can grab hold and pull. His other hand twists into the scrubby grass, ripping handfuls of it free as he does his best to work with your desperate bid to get him out of the bog. And then a few startling things happen all at once.
Your eyes drop to his throat and the wide, old injury spanning the entirety of his throat, stitched shut with a pale cord. His eyes snap open. An eerie light gleams in his eye sockets and you do shout this time, words tripping over themselves as you give up on holding him to try and yank yourself out of his grasp. Lightning quick flashes of the zombie stories and a variety of undead flicker through your mind. He’s too strong for you, you can't push him off, even with the wasted-looking muscles of his arms. He holds on terribly tight, knees and calves and feet splashing in the water and sliding through the slick scrub grass. You continue to try to get his hands off of you, breath coming far too fast, but he lets go as soon as he’s clear of the water. His hands fall away, clutching at your thigh for balance before he finally removes his hands from you entirely. He drops to the grass, retching, and then grabs at his own throat. The tie keeping his hair back crumbles, falling away like drying clay, and though most of his hair is still slick and dark with peat, it looks like it’s normally a bright coppery red underneath the muck.
He wheezes again, hands hovering over the injury, fingers feather soft over the strangely clean stitches. After a moment, he lifts his chin, spotlight eyes roving over your face with awe.
"..you..you answered?" He asks, voice warped by withered musculature. His stained cheeks stretch, a painfully tight smile exposing teeth that don't look altogether human. They're even, and clean, but they gleam with a deep blue patina, as if they’re actually polished stones. “I—I must conf-fess,” he rasps, hands falling to his knees, nails digging into the tattered trousers barely clinging to his body, “I doubted. I..” He leans forward, gasping once more as he stares at the ground. “He answered,” he whispers, and his eyelashes flutter, the light of his eyes flickering. Despite his apparent frailness, despite his inattention, you can't bring yourself to run away now. You’re caught, the desire for knowledge outweighing the potential danger. “What would you ask of me?” He breathes, and your heart twists painfully in your chest. He sounds wretched, reverent and fearful, both, anxiously waiting for you to strike out.
"What would I ask?" You struggle to murmur, tongue thick and too-dry in your mouth. Slowly, you get up, rubbing awkwardly at your wrist and forearm. His grip had been a shade past 'uncomfortably tight', but you don’t think you’ll get anything more than faint bruising.
"In exchange," the man says, clutching tighter to his knees. He doesn't notice when you flinch, not with his head still bowed.
Your heartbeat nearly drowns out the distant thunder, adrenaline chasing the wariness out of your veins. "For what?" You demand, pleased when his head jerks up. He's acting like you're going to kick him back into the bog with a boot to his chest. "For saving you? Why would I want anything? I was just-" Your mouth snaps shut, brain desperately clamoring for you to acknowledge that there's a mummified man currently speaking to you. He’s talking, not groaning, not calling out for brains or blood or violence. He may as well be straight from the local legends and he’s… Fully conscious of his actions, nothing like the eerie embellishments all the tales carry.
"I was being decent. Helping. I didn't do it so you would owe me." Any further words slip your mind as soon as your eyes catch on the stitches in his neck again. The rest of him is withered and warped by the peat in the bog, permanently stained—but the stitches are still silvery pale. What on earth happened to make him this way?
Hesitant, he raises his head, the inhuman brightness of his eyes more than enough to make you wince. Your gaze darts to the soft glint of metal in his earlobes, trying to keep from squinting.
"For… For saving my village," he finally clarifies. "You accepted my sacrifice and allowed me the chance to speak, but surely I must complete some task to prove my faith? To win a boon and guarantee their survival?"
Thunder rattles your bones and the mummy tenses, looking past you to the sky. Nerves or not, you can’t stay out here in this, not if you want to escape the weather… Or the panic that will spread like wildfire if anyone happens to catch sight of him. You offer him your hand.
"You'll help me?" He asks, hand lifting from his knee, but not yet reaching for yours. Mist dots his cheeks, rain trying desperately to break free of the heavy cloud cover.
"Help? Yes. In the way you’re asking me to?” You can’t stop yourself from cringing, but that doesn’t seem to have deterred the bog mummy still kneeling in front of you. He’s still staring with rapt attention, caught on every word you speak. “I—I don't know if I have any answer you want, but I do know we shouldn’t stay out here in the rain." You take a single step closer, fingers splaying as you reach for him. He slips his hand into yours and the rain falls heavy upon your heads.
————- 🌠 ————-
From what you’ve gathered from Hior on the trip back here, he has for all intents and purposes, traveled through time, via his death. You freeze in the doorway of the kitchen, mind whirling as you attempt to puzzle out whether he can eat or drink anything. He hasn’t needed to, not while he’s been in his enchanted… sleep down in the bog. But he’s actually dead, isn’t he? You hadn’t felt a pulse when he’d taken your hand, but you hadn’t been searching for one either, keen as you were on getting him out of the torrential rain and out of sight. He hasn’t asked for any food or drink, but your brain has seized onto hospitality like a lifeline. No matter what age Hior is from, sharing what you have is always appreciated.
Decision made, you fetch the glass, ears straining for any noise, for any hint of where he is in the house. He’s done nothing but stare at modernized gadgetry since you brought him in, taking the towel you’d offered as if he were in a dream, but he’s bound to get curious eventually. You move a little faster, though when you find him back in the living room, sitting straight backed on the edge of the couch, dampened towel around his shoulders, you feel rather silly. He just crawled out of a bog, knowing that he’d given his life for his village. Maybe he’s frightened? This can’t be like any afterlife he’d expected. “Would you like some water?” You ask, still unsure as to whether he can actually drink it or not. He’d been gasping for air when he’d broken free of the bog, but that might only be reflex, seeing as he is very much mummified.
Hior clambers to his feet, lamplight eyes skittering over your face and then down to the floor before he kneels, towel flaring out like a cloak. You pause where you are, fingers tightening around the glass in your hand, but your brain doesn’t catch up to what he’s trying to do until he speaks. “I must thank you for your hospitality. Truly. To be welcomed into the home of a God-”
You nearly spill the water, breath caught fast in your throat as you hurriedly urge him to get back to his feet, fingers brushing over his shoulder. “Ah, no, not—how about some water first?” Hior rises, the fine hairs of his eyebrows catching the light as he furrows them. They’re the same coppery red as the hair on his head and arms, and even on his legs when you take the time to glance down. “Here,” you mutter, slipping the glass into his hand as soon as his fingers uncurl. “If you don’t want it, or, or you can’t, then it’s fine. But, uh, I’m not a deity. Not a God. Just a man.” Like you, weighs down the tip of your tongue, but you clamp your jaws shut. You can’t honestly claim similarity, seeing as you still have blood flowing through your veins and your neck doesn’t have eerily clean stitches from ear to ear.
"A man," he repeats, but he doesn't sound like he believes you, "of course." Hior sniffs at the water, but he must not need it. He cradles the glass against his chest, water untouched and risks another sly glance at your face, waiting, as if he expects you to change your mind and confess to a different identity. Your brain buzzes, skipping over the hint he’s attempting to fish for.
“Those… It looks like that was a bad injury,” you murmur, gesturing to the neat stitches, a permanent, unsettling necklace. It doesn’t really help change the subject.
“Hmm,” he rumbles, reaching up a single hand. For a moment, he marvels at the sight of his own skin, turning his wrist this way and that before he finally ghosts his touch over the stitches. Hior doesn’t shy away from them, or even appear concerned, fingertip dipping between each rib of cord. “I’ve little idea how I came to possess these,” he confesses. “It wasn’t you?” You grimace, and Hior croaks out a laugh when he notices. Warmth blossoms in your chest, the sound of a real, genuine laugh soothing away some of your nerves. “No. I can see that now. And it wasn’t Mother Gree either,” he says softly, eyes lowering. “No one would have taken me from the water. The… the star?”
“Star?” The God you think I am? You want to ask, but the stiffness is easing from his limbs, memory returning, and you don’t want to interrupt. Frankly, you might be a little shell shocked yourself, but something about his question makes your brows furrow.
“It followed me into the water,” Hior adds, and your heart skips a beat, your own memories a cacophony in the back of your head. You’ve read something about that before, you’re certain of it.
“The star followed you?” You ask, clarifying. “Dove after you?”
For the first time, Hior isn’t staring past you or searching your face for any hint of divinity. A wry smile twists his lips, exposing the polished stones serving as his teeth. “From what I recall, yes. Of course, I was dying at the time,” he says quietly, humor in the arch of his eyebrows. “Perhaps I could not comprehend the visage of our Gods? They often take other shapes, so as not to cause alarm. Such as that of a man,” he says. He’s hinting again, gaze heavy on your face, but all you can think about is the phrase: the star followed me into the water, on repeat.
You lick your lips, darting past Hior for the stacks of books you’d left out this morning. “The Diving Stars,” you explain, pushing two volumes to the side and letting them fall to the floor with a clatter. You seize the elderly green book, whirling so you can brandish it in Hior’s direction. The title glitters, faintly golden but worn away by the passing years. “It’s a folktale, a legend, about… About you, I think.”
————- 🌠 ————-
Hior never does drink the water. He sets it aside, fingertips lingering along the rim before you settle down on the floor, book laid open across your knees. He joins you, and as respectful as Hior has been up to this point, he sits close against your side, pressed against you from shoulder to hip so he can better see the pages. It’s intimate, and strange, and he’s… He’s not cold, not exactly, but the lack of human warmth is enough to have the fine hairs along your neck prickling with awareness. It only takes a moment before his attention drifts from the book to your face, staring at your mouth as you read the short tale aloud.
The Diving Stars
For the greater good of a war torn village, a sacrifice was made. A favored son was chosen, one beloved by the village, and kind to all he knew. He was strong, and clever, and though he was leaving behind his family, he knew he must act for the well being of all. When it came time for his sacrifice, he smiled and walked willingly to his ending, hoping that the Gods would accept his service and defend the village from invaders.
A God took notice.
You do your best not to lift your eyes from the text, heat spreading over the back of your neck when you realize how hard Hior is staring at you. You might keep trying to ignore his assumptions, but Hior isn’t going to let you forget about them completely. He still fully believes that you’re the deity from his tale.
Moved by his plight and coveting the favored son’s courage for his own hall, the God left his domain. He dove from the sky as a star, following the favored son into the depths and setting the entire blog ablaze with his magic. When the light faded, when the villagers uncovered their eyes, two men stood by the side of the water, the light of the stars in their eyes. One was the favored son, strange and withered, having sacrificed his vitality to the Gods. The other was the God who had accepted his bargain, and behind them, marching up out of the water, was a brigade of the village ancestors, led back from the underworld to help defend the home of their children.
When the battle was won, and the ancestors had marched back into the water, the favored son wished his people farewell. Lit up from within, the favored son and the God slipped back into the depths, and then two brilliant lights fountained up out of the water, diving back into the sky as stars.
When you lift your gaze away from the book, Hior’s eyes are still on you. They’ve grown even brighter than before, the shine of them sharp enough to make you wince. His hands, resting gently on his knees, are steadily curling into fists, and he’s smiling. Small and sweet and absolutely enchanted. “I knew it,” he whispers, voice tight and low, and then Hior yanks you by the neck of your shirt halfway into his lap, knocking the book completely out of your hands. He kisses you, in want or in gratitude, you’re not sure, the taste of rainwater and the chill of stone heavy on his lips. It’s… It’s not unpleasant at all, the kiss. His lips are smooth, and cool, and tingling, like the sharpness of static in the air, seeping through your skin and racing through your veins. When Hior finally allows you to wrench yourself away, lungs heaving as you attempt to remember how to breathe, all you can think about is the way he’s smiling, arousal pooling heavily in every limb.
“No matter what you might believe,” you mutter, trying to keep your thoughts in order, “I’m not a God. Not of any sort, Hior. I swear I’m not lying.” You lick your lips, the taste of rainwater still lingering on your skin. “Though, even if I don’t know how to help you yet?” You take his hand off of your arm, lacing your fingers with his. “We’re bound to find out together.”
————- 🌠 ————-
75 notes · View notes
belovasangel · 4 years
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Come Back to Me
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Summary: Shawn missing big events leaves to beautiful memories and Christmas miracles
Pairing: Shawn x fem!Nurse!Reader
Warnings: swearing, light angst, fluff, flashback heavy, holiday feelings 
A/N: Yup. Surprise. Also flashbacks are in italics, per usual. Also I am not Canadian so I don’t know if y’all celebrate Remembrance Day. For the sake of this story, pretend that it’s the equivalent to Thanksgiving.
Shawn took your hand as you barreled down the sidewalk, laughs flying past you in the wind. Tonight had been a perfect date, something great to wrap the summer up, full of time alone with your favorite guy (and your favorite wine). He had been planning this for weeks now, and you can even remember him talking about this back in June when his tour had been announced. The pandemic put a damper on your two’s plans since March, but once the numbers started decreasing did he get calls from managers, and then... there was another world tour. You weren’t mad, music was his passion. Even though you two would be wrapped in each other’s arms after a lovely night, you could tell behind his eyes he longed to play the guitar for different cities. 
That’s why tonight was so important, because he started packing and planning, then he would leave on Wednesday for Prague. And of course, your job needed you in Toronto. While Canada hasn’t experienced any significantly alarming numbers, there were still cases rolling in. You insisted that Shawn goes on tour, so much that you had to pay for his first ticket yourself (he payed you back, though. He insisted). 
Shawn skidded to a stop, turning around and putting his hands on your shoulders. “Now promise me you’re gonna close your eyes, just for a few seconds.”
You huffed and shrugged your shoulders, “Shawn I’m out of breathe, you made me run in heels for about half a mile... Give me 5 minutes instead.” With a quick chuckle, he pecked your lips and turned you around. You heard his shuffling from those black boots he wears to rubble, then decided to look around. He somehow managed to find a quaint park, with a nice bubbling fountain and family’s scattered around. Dogs were running a lit in the distance, and the bustle of the city wasn’t nearly as booming as it usually is. This was nice.
“Okay, turn around.”
With a giggle, you turned around to see Shawn on one knee. Behind him was a tree strung with lights that were glowing, and underneath the tree was champagne and a radio playing your two’s song, Turning the Page (Yeah, we know it’s from Twilight, but that doesn’t stop it from being any less romantic). He was kneeled on a red and white picnic blanket, the typical one you’d see in catalogues for fall. On the blanket were rose petals scattered. 
“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), you have changed my life for the better. The moment you saw me in the E.R., and had to take care of my broken hand, I knew you were just as kind and gentle as you looked. Once you let me in, and take you on that shitty first date, I got to see the real you. The you that cries during every Disney movie, the you that would bring me breakfast in bed when I had a rough day, the you that would rescue a damn pigeon off the street because it looked sad. You are the most sincere, selfless, and intelligent woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I don’t want ever want to stop or slow down. You have become my life and my rock, I’m completely lost without you. I am utterly in love with you, (Y/N). I want us to have a family, I want to make an album for you, and everything in between. Will you please marry me?”
You shuddered awake, looking quickly at your blaring alarm from the end table. Picking it up and turning it off, the time read 4:25 A.M., signaling it was time to get ready for work. You got up, and went to open the blinds to your bedroom, watching the snow fall steadily. Slipping on your socks and bathrobe, you shuffled to the kitchen to get a cup of tea brewing before you hit the shower. 
Mornings like this weren’t incredibly tough anymore, once Shawn was gone on tour. He face-timed you once a week because of tour, sent you letters and packages from your favorite cities, and even had roses delivered on your birthday. And of course, he always said, “Lemme see it. I wanna see you wear that pretty ring. There it is, there she is, soon-to-be Mrs. Mendes.”
Slipping in the hot shower, you played some of his songs, some of your regular playlists, and when you were throwing on your outfit, your two’s song. You missed Shawn. He had missed your two’s favorite holiday, Halloween, where you two always did the cheesy couple costumes. He missed your birthday, but he sent his family in place. He missed Remembrance Day, because in Europe that wasn’t a thing. And tomorrow is Christmas, where he has no sign of coming home whatsoever. That’s fine, though, because you took the long shift at the hospital.
When the song came to an end, you threw on your coat and snow boots, grabbing all the food and equipment you would need for a 12-hour and began to head out. Shawn sent you his daily vlog and you watched that on the shuttle. Once that was over, you got to the hospital where you would forget about your slightly more aching heart. After work, the routine would basically go in reverse. Commute home, get back into your pajama’s, drink some tea, get dinner, and go to bed, where you would have a restless night in an empty bed.
“When do you think we should have the wedding?”
Shawn looked over, a piece of popcorn hanging onto his lip like a lifeline. His cheeks were flushed and he still looked a little sweaty from the show he just played at TD Garden. He knew you were doing the planning to keep yourself from descending into madness (well, not entirely, but you only brought it up when you really missed him). “I think we should do a summer/fall sort of wedding, like when the leaves are red but it isn’t freezing by 5, ya know?”
You hummed in agreement, a smile picking at the corners of your mouth. “I completely agree. Do you want it to be outdoors then, because of the leaves?”
Shawn took another few things of popcorn from the bag and popped them into his swollen lips, he always licked them when he was frustrated by how a show went, or just when his mind was reeling. “I think we should get married outdoors, and then have the reception indoors. Kind of like-”
“Twilight...”
You both looked at the screen and snorted, sending both of you into fits of hysteria. “Shawn, we really base our relationship off of those books, didn’t we?” He looked over, licking his lips once again. “Explain, babe. I get a little bit, but our whole relationship?”
You shuffled in the bed a little bit, “Hear me out, Shawn-y boy. We met when you were hurt and I had to save you, or more-so your career. Edward saved Bella from the car, right? Right. So, there’s that. Then that girl who you worked on the album with tried to get you on the few dates, but that was long after we were official. Boom, Jacob plot line. Then you leave me for your first tour, which I get 100%, so don’t be upset over that. But the girl you worked with saw you kind of sad and made it her mission to befriend you and then attempt to change your mind over me... And our song is the one from their wedding, and we want an outdoors-y wedding.....”
Shawn looked at the screen, then back to the popcorn leaking butter in his hands. “Damn. So you’re saying that I’m Bella?” You began to shake your head, cheeks turning red. “Maybe I meant that wrong, but-”
“No, no you’re saying I’m Bella. Does that mean I get to wear the dress? I cannot wait to get married with no emotions and then have the ugliest CGI baby in the history of cinematics. Aren’t you so excited for that, my love?”
“Absolutely thrilled.”
The alarm on your phone blared once again, pulling you from Shawn. You picked up the phone, getting a few “Merry Christmas” texts from family and friends. You assumed Shawn was out partying with his crew mates, plus it must’ve been a busy day altogether. Turning off the alarm and standing, you pulled on the slippers and followed your routine again. 
Once it got to 6:07, and still no text from Shawn, you decided to call him. Immediately, you were sent to voicemail. With a sigh, you waited for voicemail.
“Hey bubs, Merry Christmas! I miss you more than ever, it’s snowing here pretty rough. I know you’d probably go outside right about now and insist to make a snowman or some angels, so that might be a mission for me after work. Um, I wanted to let you know that I love you so much, and I hope you’re having fun on tour... The apartment isn’t the same without you here, especially around this time. You’re probably having fun with your friends and I don’t wanna intrude on that, so I’ll hang up. I love you Shawn, be careful. Stay safe, come back to me soon. Bye.”
Wiping the tear that fell down your cheek, you stepped outside your apartment, hopped into the elevator and began the commute to your shift. You got to work on record time, beginning your patient rounds and vitals, then celebrating with the coworkers. Working 6:30 AM-9:30 PM would be a tough one, but whatever to keep you under that roof. Plus, double-time because of the holiday.
Once it hit 9:30, you booked it out of the hospital and onto the shuttle. Your eyes were barely open as you saw the texts from Shawn.
(Shawn) 7:59 AM: Hey babe, I’m so sorry I didn’t answer your call! I can’t wait to see your face tonight, you still up for FaceTime?
(Shawn) 9:26 AM: I bet you’re busy, but I’m gonna be in a few conferences and doing press so I won’t be able to talk for a while. Love you!
(Shawn) 3:14 PM: (Y/N) I don’t think we can FaceTime tonight, I have to do something for a fan and it’s really important. I am so sorry.
(Shawn) 8:44 PM: Are you mad at me or are you still working?
(Shawn) 9:32 PM: Something is waiting for you at home, it’s your gift. I hope this can make up for the call!
You hopped out of the shuttle, heart feeling extra heavy as you walked into the apartment. The string lights and streamers along the walls were taunting you as the elevator brought you to your floor, and you tried to compose yourself until you would get inside. Stepping up to your door, you looked for the present, to no avail.
(Y/N) 9:45 PM: Shawn I don’t see a package
(Shawn) 9:45 PM: Mom must’ve brought it inside, I’m sure it’s there.
With a huff, you shoved the key into the door, and walked inside. Chucking your purse and coat onto the hooks, while flinging off your shoes, you composed yourself enough to look for the package. If he got it express-shipped it had to be good. Checking the kitchen was no luck, and the living room looked normal. 
(Shawn) 9:48 PM: Bedroom, babe
With a gasp, you quickly buzzed to the bedroom, and laid your hand on the door. You stopped, hesitant to what was behind the door. What if it isn’t him? Taking a deep breath, you dismissed the negative thought and opened.
The room was filled with lit tea lights, rose petals on the bed and the floor, and Shawn. He was standing there in that chunky-white knit sweater you loved, with flushed cheeks and watery eyes, holding a bouquet of flowers, and your favorite song playing softly in the background.
You gasped, running into his arms with a squeal and sob, him mimicking the sound. He held onto the small of your back, and one hand on the back of your neck, and you felt his tears falling onto your skin. “I missed you so much, (Y/N). You don’t even know.” He pulled back slightly pressing his lips to yours in a soft embrace.
After a minute of kissing, you pulled back. “Merry Christmas, Shawn.”
“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”
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entracteofevil · 3 years
Text
Character Introductions
Entr’acte of Evil, page 14-36
“Come, kneel to me!”
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Riliane Lucifen d’Autriche
(Kagamine Rin)
The princess who rules the Kingdom of Lucifenia. For her arrogant behavior and proud personality, she is despised by her people, called the “Daughter of Evil”. She and her servant Allen are twins, but as she’s lost her memories of when she was young she doesn’t remember him. Her life was endangered in the civil war with the revolutionary army, but with Allen’s help she escaped from the palace, and later came to live in a monastery.
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AkunoP’s comment
Her character isn’t very complicated in construction, following the template of the ‘willful girl’. I guess she’s developed a bit more than her portrayal in the song. Though I did want to write more on how she grows after joining the monastery (haha). I do regret not being able to do that. It’d be nice if I could write about that somewhere.
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*This character was based on the VOCALOID 2 Character Vocal Series 02 Kagamine Rin of “Kagamine Rin/Len” published by Crypton Future Media.
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-Her monastery outfit is cinched together by a strap tied at the left side on her waist. Her back is the same design as her front.
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-These are the accessories that Riliane wears on her person (rough depiction). There’s a lot of simple items that just have a gem in the middle, but they are still quite expensive.
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Ichika’s comment
*Princess outfit: She has a kind of light and fluffy dress design with a lot of lace and ribbons to show her more adorable side. There’re a lot of rose motifs on her decorations. I wanted to have her hold onto some connection with her and Allen’s parent, so I drew her necklace to look like it was it was made out of something Queen Anne wore.
*Monastery outfit: She’s a novice nun, so her skirt length is a little short. It’s a simple outfit that’s just overall a bunch of sewn together cloth, but as she’s a former princess she has the kind of setup of wearing it well. Though she’s probably a bit bad at her work. Or maybe I should just say she’s not used to it.
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“How’s the flavor, Princess Riliane?”
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Allen Avadonia
(Kagamine Len)
A boy who works as a common servant in the Lucifenian royal palace, despite possessing substantial skill at swordplay and horseback riding. He has a very mature personality, but occasionally he’ll show a bit of boyishness in his expression. He is actually Riliane’s younger twin brother. He wishes for Riliane’s happiness more than anything. He helps Riliane escape during the civil war with the revolutionary army and takes her place, being executed as the princess.
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AkunoP’s comment
He was the hardest character to write (haha). Despite being a protagonist. Mostly in that I would worry that I was making him seem too young (though he is young), and that his youth in itself was a bit difficult to write. Fourteen-year-old boys are tricky. Even now I don’t think I’ve really got a handle on it (haha). There were a lot of parts where I felt like I messed up.
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*This character was based on the VOCALOID 2 Character Vocal Series 02 Kagamine Len of “Kagamine Rin/Len” published by Crypton Future Media.
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-The ribbon that ties his hair back looks to be a butterfly knot. His shoes are a simple loafer design.
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Ichika’s comment
*Servant outfit: He’s a servant, so he has clothes that are easy to move in. In order to show a bit of his boyishness I made the lower cuff of his outer jacket a bit too big for him. His pockets are decorative. I think he should take off his upper coat when doing more strenuous work.
*Traveling outfit: I made his coat a little bit loose, so that it could be worn as-is above his normal clothing. I was thinking about various things when I drew it—like making sure he has a relaxed formal air even when he’s attendant on the princess, that he’s alright even if it rains as he has a hood, that it’s one-size-fits-all, etc.
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“To me, you are a very wonderful person.”
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Michaela
(Hatsune Miku)
A servant who serves Lord Keel, and originally a spirit that lived under the great earth god, Held. She has an inquisitive personality, and her hobby is people-watching. She chose the appearance of the ‘original sinner’ as her human form when she reincarnated. She is beloved by everyone for her kind and sociable personality, as well as her beautiful looks and singing voice. She’s always worrying about her dear friend Clarith, and also this “love” that humans have.
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AkunoP’s comment
This one was also hard to work with (haha). On a fundamental level, she’s less the “of Evil” Miku and more just straight up “VOCALOID Miku”. Like the whole “Miku is an angel” thing from the early days. I think it was through her relationship with Clarith that she was finally able to set herself apart as the “of Evil” Miku. I’ve still got a few more developments for her yet (haha).
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*This character was based on the VOCALOID 2 Character Vocal Series 01 “Hatsune Miku” published by Crypton Future Media.
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-The sleeves of her town outfit are lined with lace. They are three-quarter length.
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Ichika’s comment
*Town outfit: Given that she’s meant to be adorable, her outfit was made with a kind of fluttering look in her sleeves and such. There are a lot of parts where two sleeve ends  overlap. I drew her to be more of a diva than a servant in appearance. Also, while her pendant is a scallop in shape, its size is close to that of the end of her thumb.
*Village outfit: As she’s sort of German in style, I drew her with the image of the German Fairy Tale Road in mind. As I have the personal idea that it’s a hand-me-down from Clarith’s mom, the skirt for her dress is a little too long. I didn’t get the idea that she was dressed all that fashionably in the village, so I made it so that this one had no ribbon.
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“I—I’m sorry! I’m really sorry!”
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Clarith
(Yowane Haku)
A servant who works at the Keel estate alongside Michaela. She’s a Netsuma girl with white hair and red eyes, and she has suffered persecution from the Elphe people due to being an ethnic minority. It’s because of this that she developed her catchphrase, “I’m sorry for being alive”, and her pessimistic personality. On a fundamental level she’s clumsy and not really good at anything, but she does have skill in cooking. She also likes plants and animals, and she takes very good care of saplings.
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AkunoP’s comment
She’s the character that’s the closest to my “real self”. “I’m sorry for being alive” is actually my real life catchphrase (haha). So she’s easy to empathize with. She has a few odd points but she’s really the most normal, “everyman” character in the story. Haku herself was originally conceived not as a VOCALOID but as a “master”(song producer), you know.
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*This character was based on “Yowane Haku”, a derivative of the VOCALOID 2 Character Vocal Series 01 Hatsune Miku published by Crypton Future Media.
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-The length of her hair goes down to slightly above her knees. She also tends to use the bangs on the side of her face to hide her ears.
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Ichika’s comment
*Town outfit: On the whole she’s like Michaela, but I made her design more simple to express a grown-up and “in the background” air. I didn’t see her as someone to wear particularly girly clothes, so her collar is a bit more masculine. I think four out of five times she’d have Michaela help out with the ties on her back.
*Monastery outfit: I designed her sleeves to be neat so that it would be easy for her to cook, which is her main strength. As they don’t have any ostentatious stuff like hair decorations at the monastery I tearfully cut down on her ribbon… It’s a useless detail but her waist sash is supposed to be in a granny knot.
*Village outfit: I put her in a simple, full dress that’s easy to put on. I had intended for her outfit to both show that she was an outsider and be something that Clarith herself picked out to not stand out in a village, which ultimately gave me this image of a slightly overdressed outfit. Hence her design coming out like this.
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“I ain’t broken the fountain yet, yannow!”
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Chartette Langley
(Kasane Teto)
A maid who serves in the palace, and Allen’s childhood friend. Due to her frightening strength she excels at heavy work, but struggles with more delicate tasks and is often breaking things inside the palace. The princess is fond of her for her outgoing personality, and they will sometimes take tea-time together. During the revolution she engages in a duel against Mariam, one of the Three Heroes, using a broadsword larger than her own height.
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AkunoP’s comment
I like this character (haha). She was easy to work with. I wish I could have had her do more. She didn’t get to do anything in the second book, so I’ve been thinking about maybe having her show up in the third book.
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*This character is based on “Kasane Teto”.
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-During the duel she took on the style of wielding a sword larger than her own body. For that reason her outfit was made to show ease of movement.
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-The broadsword is of a simple design, but that’s overpowered by its sheer size. It sort of has the image of a blunt weapon more than a slashing implement.
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Ichika’s comment
*Maid outfit: The ends of her sleeves are precisely folded back. The hem of her skirt is frilly and puffs out a bit, as the style of the maid outfit in the country of yellow. The hem is also slightly short, as she does a lot of running around. The ribbon at her collar had been red at first to match her hair, but I figured that it wouldn’t be red in the country of yellow so I changed it to yellow.
* Resistance outfit: She’s a peasant, so she has light armor on her casual wear. The coverings for her wrists were a bit more unrefined at first. I drew her leg armor in to serve as a sort of counterweight for when she swings her sword around. As such, they’re supposed to be much heavier than they look. She could probably mortally wound someone with one kick.
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“Please…keep what I’ve said a secret.”
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Ney Phatipe
(Akita Neru)
A maid who serves in the palace, and the adoptive daughter of the head maid and one of the Three Heroes, Mariam. She does all her work flawlessly, but it’s countered by her being a gossip and loose-lip, which results in some turmoil occurring. She’s favored by Riliane, and becomes a source of information for her. Her true identity is that of Marlon’s thirteenth princess, Ney Marlon.
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AkunoP’s comment
Like Clarith, Ney is a character that I had a concept of since the very beginning. She was originally a childhood friend of the twins who stood in a sort of “big sister” role, and wound up becoming “another servant”. She’s the character who’s changed the most from how she was in the beginning. I actually had plans to make her into a joke character (haha).
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*This character was based on “Akita Neru”, a derivative of the VOCALOID 2 Character Vocal Series 01 Hatsune Miku published by Crypton Future Media.
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-I considered several different ways of her tying her hair when she’s an assassin, but how she ends up being in that situation is a secret.
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Ichika’s comment
*Maid outfit: The basics are the same as Chartette’s maid uniform. Only the hem is longer, to show the difference in work and her personality. She feels like the kind of person to wear her maid uniform so well that she could do her work from start to finish all day without anything out of place. She was trained by her adoptive mother.
*Assassin outfit: She’s doing espionage activities, so it’s an entirely black uniform. The main focus was ease of movement. The boots are made of a soft fabric to make it harder to hear her footsteps. Her ponytail can be bundled up and pushed under her clothing depending on the situation. It probably just barely gets in. –Fits in.
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“…Stop mocking me.”
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Kyle Marlon
(KAITO)
The king of the island country of Marlon (the “Country of Blue”), and Riliane’s fiancé. Riliane adores him, calling him her “dear”, but he falls in love at first sight with Michaela when meeting her in the mansion of his friend, Keel, and so breaks off the engagement on his end. He is no match for his mother, Empress Dowager Prim, something he’s a bit ashamed of.
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AkunoP’s comment
I’m so sorry, but he’s the one I care about the least (haha). Frankly I seriously didn’t want to write him all that much. These novels aside, don’t expect me to make KAITO this cool overall. Though he’s a pretty toothsome character, with how many turns he gets.
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*This character was based on the VOCALOID Character “KAITO” published by Crypton Future Media.
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-The basis for his masked appearance is a certain sha[redacted]. It’s a simple outfit, but the decorations it has here and there are gaudy in a minor way.
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Ichika’s comment
*Main outfit: As he was designed with a theme of solemnity, his whole appearance is composed with a precise and stiff feel. The collar of his jacket is designed like a suit. His sleeves are meant to feel a bit stern. I drew his outfit with a sort of square image of the country of blue in my head, so he’s light on the curves. Since he’s a male character I put more emphasis on being chic than flashy.
*Disguise outfit: I drew this to feel like the sort of typical outfit of the country of blue. But the quality of the fabric is a grade above that of the average person. If I were to draw in any armor it would let slip what country he’s from, so he’s just got the one sword as equipment. It’s the same sword he wields in his king outfit, but he tries to hide it.
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“Let’s go, everyone.”
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Germaine Avadonia
(MEIKO)
Allen’s adopted sibling who lives in the town below Lucifenia castle, and the adopted daughter of Leonhart, one of the Three Heroes. She’s dependable and cares about her friends, but that comes with the snag of her being a little crude. In actuality she’s quite smart, becoming the leader of the Resistance and earning the people’s respect.
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AkunoP’s comment
At first, I had wanted to make her into a classic, genuinely heroic character…But I guess that got a bit warped. Like Miku, there’s a lot of influence taken from her character as a VOCALOID. I want to write about her past sometime. She’s an unexpectedly pitiable character, who winds up not having a lot of influence.
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Ichika’s comment
In addition to being based on Leonhart’s armor, the insignia above her chest is taken from the hilt of his sword, so in that sense it’s like her equipment has inherited her father’s will. It’s lighter armor, given that as she’s a woman there’s more emphasis on maneuverability. As it prioritizes heroism over sex appeal, her legs haven’t been left exposed.
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*This character was based on the VOCALOID Character “MEIKO” published by Crypton Future Media.
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“You working hard, kids?”
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Leonhart Avadonia
(LEON)
Allen and Germaine’s adoptive father, and one of the Three Heroes. He’s the captain of the guard of the royal family, but he clashes with the princess over their different opinions. An unparalleled drinker, he often drinks the night away with his daughter Germaine.
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AkunoP’s comment
Among the Three Heroes, he’s the one that came to mind first. He vanishes pretty quickly from the story for someone who was present in the plot of the Daughter of Evil since its original conception… Though I guess he does get to do more in the bonus story, so it’s all good. He’s a bit of an old fogey by the Daughter of Evil era. I did have some other more detailed ideas for him, but ultimately wound up not using them.
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Ichika’s comment
He has solidly built heavy armor. The main colors of his outfit are red and white, but there’s a single thread of yellow on his mantle alone to symbolize the people of the country of yellow.  The mantle is part of his uniform as captain of the guard; he didn’t have one during his hero days.
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*This character was independently made based on VOCALOID “LEON” published by ZERO-G.
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“Lucifenia will very soon be overthrown.”
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Elluka Clockworker
(Megurine Luka)
A court sorceress who served the previous monarch, and one of the Three Heroes. Her predictions are never wrong, and so there are many who trust in her in the palace. She has lived for a long time, and is carrying out the task of collecting the “Vessels of Deadly Sin” as a favor to the great land god Held.
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AkunoP’s comment
It’s the postscript character! (haha) Originally I planned for the sorceress role was going to be played by a different character, but then I swapped her out when Luka was published, resulting in her ultimately getting the best role. Personality-wise she’s similar to how I am when I’m drunk (haha). So, like Clarith, I’m quite fond of her, and she’s easy to write.
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Ichika’s comment
It’s a bit hard to tell with the robe on, but despite not looking like it she actually has some degree of exposure. Mostly her shoulders and legs. Her outfit was designed to look bewitching. The jewels at her hip are taken from her VOCALOID image character. After Riliane, she probably has the most accessories out of anyone else.
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*This character was based on the VOCALOID 2 Character Vocal Series 03 “Megurine Luka” published by Crypton Future Media.
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“Yes, the green onion, the Very Amazing, Green Onion.”
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Gumillia
(Megpoid)
A sorceress in training who serves in the palace, and Elluka’s apprentice. She is very close with Michaela, and was originally one of the spirits who served Held alongside her. She picked the form of Elphegort’s first female prime minister, Gumina Glassred, as her appearance when reincarnating as a human.
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AkunoP’s comment
She hardly got to do anything at all…Since she hasn’t had a lot of influence on the story at present, I think I’d really like to give her more to do in the third book (haha). I think she’s the character with the most potential. She was originally a spirit, and is a sorceress to boot. So, expect great things from her in the future!
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Ichika’s comment
As she’s Elluka’s apprentice her outfit design is made to resemble hers, though it also shows a more apprentice-esque childishness in it. But I also see her not changing her outfit even after her training his passed. Like Elluka, she has a single jewel around her hip.
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*This character was based on the VOCALOID 2 Artist Vocal character “Megpoid” published by Internet Co., Ltd.
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“I am one of the Three Heroes, Mariam Phatipe!”
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Mariam Phatipe
(MIRIAM)
She once engaged in espionage as one of the Three Heroes, but now she serves as the head maid in the palace. Her personality is extremely rigid, but she has her kind side as well, and there are many who admire her. She prides herself on covert work, like running secret intelligence.
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AkunoP’s comment
Her appearance is meant to feel like a gorgeous, cool beauty. In conception she’s this badass secret intelligence operative, but in the end she wound up being a dud spy (haha). She was completely useless, and failed to see what was happening with her own daughter. Her position is sort of that of everyone’s stern mother. Though the “Of Evil” series is full of stern women, and all of them are strong.
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Ichika’s comment
She does have a theme of being a rigid, cool beauty. With this sort of masculine air, too. Her outfit is a bit old-fashioned, bearing in mind the image of the previous queen’s reign. I pictured her being able to move a fair bit whatever her uniform, so I think it would always be prim and proper, without anything out of place.
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*This character was independently made based on VOCALOID “MIRIAM” published by ZERO-G.
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“We have a favor to ask of you.”
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Anne Lucifen D’autriche
(Sweet Ann)
The old queen of Lucifenia, and the mother of Riliane, who admired her. She often said she wanted to “build a country where children can live with a smile”, and devoted her energies into the strengthening and expansion of her country. Like her husband Arth I, she passed away from the incurable “Gula” disease.
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AkunoP’s comment
She’s sort of like what Riliane could have turned out like if she’d been raised properly. Strong, kind, and popular. Only, I’m sure she must have been more mischievous when she was younger. She probably had reckless adventures and passionate romantic stories, but I’ve got no plans to write any of them (haha).
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Ichika’s comment
I drew her with a theme of a queen’s strictness and a woman’s gentleness. Actually, her character design is the one I liked the most on first drawing it. She’s not too gaudy, but I’m really happy her outfit conveys a sense of stability in its place.
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*This character was independently made based on the VOCALOID 2 “SWEET ANN” published by PowerFX.
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“That’s just common practice among merchants.”
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Keel Freezis
(Hiyama Kiyoteru)
A famous merchant who conducts trade in Elphegort, while being an immigrant from Marlon. He serves as the head of the trade association, and is also proficient in handling information. He’s an old friend of Marlon’s King Kyle. He has three children.
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AkunoP’s comment
The no.2 super afterthought character (haha). At first I had no plans for him to do anything at all, but when I tried giving him a few more scenes he turned out to be a pretty fun character; I ended up shortening Kyle’s role to compensate (haha). It was a lot of fun to write a character so cheerful. And it was pretty amusing to have him be such a doting parent.
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Ichika’s comment
As he’s a merchant, he wears shoes and an outfit that are both easy to walk in. His uniform base is the country of blue. Fundamentally his robe is for use in business discussions, and is supposed to easy to remove when it gets hot or gets in the way. I would imagine he probably dresses down a bit outside of occasions where he’s conversing with royalty and nobles.
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*This character was based on the VOCALOID 2 Vocaloid teacher “Hiyama Kiyoteru” published by AH-Software Co. Ltd.
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“Tell me the story of the ‘Daughter of Evil’!”
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Yukina Freezis
(Kaai Yuki)
The eldest daughter of the wealth Elphegort merchant Keel Freezis. She’s very attached to her servant Clarith, and often has her wrapped around her little finger, being both naïve and mischievous. She has a hobby of writing stories, and excels at it despite her young age.
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AkunoP’s comment
She’s going to be more active in the third book. She’ll be a main character!! (haha) She becomes the author of the Freezis Fairytales, and the official teller of the story. Come to think of it I did buy the Yuki software the other day, so I might make a song for her after this.
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Ichika’s comment
Frankly she’s the most fun when drawing. While heavily basing her off of her original character image, I also gave her a more chic and mature air befitting a merchant’s daughter. I’m happy I was able to make her appearance show how doted on she is by Keel.
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*This character was based on the VOCALOID 2 Vocaloid student “Kaai Yuki” published by AH-Software Co. Ltd.
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“I was the same as you…Evil.”
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Gast Venom
(Gackpoid)
A skilled mercenary who heads a mercenary band, called “The Demon of Asmodean”. During the revolution he stays at the palace until the end under Allen’s request, and fought against the revolutionaries using a weapon called a katana, something unfamiliar to the Evillious region.
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AkunoP’s comment
He’s got a mystery for so few appearances (haha). I’ve given him a ton of backstory but I haven’t shared any of it. Like that he’s a descendant of Venomania, that he isn’t actually [redacted], none of it’s been shown in story. And he got killed by an amateur girl (haha). In that sense I guess he’s more pathetic than Kyle. I’d like to get some of it out someday though.
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Ichika’s comment.
I made him more Japanese in style to give him a foreign feel. I drew his outfit and his equipment to be like the protective armor of a swordsman. His outfit’s meant to have a slightly feminine component to it, like having a feminine sash at his waist. He’s got a decent amount of layering in his clothing. His physique is meant to feel pretty lean.
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*This character was based on the VOCALOID 2 Artist Vocal character “Gackpoid” published by Internet Co., Ltd.
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timegirl · 3 years
Text
Cats Don't Have Nine Lives - Moceit Appreciation Week 2021
Characters: Patton, Janus
Relationship: Platonic or Romantic
Prompts: Aftermath (day 2), Animal (day 4)
Word Count: 2073
Trigger Warnings: This whole fic surrounds a death of a pet and the mourning of the owner. It is sad. Contains a light description of a declining medical condition of a pet. Please don't read if you're sensitive to these topics. Patton tries to blame himself. Food is mentioned briefly.
Summary: Patton suffers a loss and Janus comforts him.
@moceit-appreciation-week @moceit
This is not like my regular works. It is sad and depressing, and is based on my own life. More details on ao3. Please mind the warnings and the tags, stay safe.
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“Hey, Jan? I was just at the vet... it’s.... over....”
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry... Are you going home now?”
sniffle “Yeah...”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Okay...”
Janus used the spare key he had to Patton’s apartment. “Patton, darling?” He called and closed the door behind him. He heard soft sobs greeting him from the living room. “Oh, baby...” He hurried to the living room and found his friend curled up on the sofa, clutching a small baby blue blanket to his chest. His face was puffed and red, and tears were streaming down his cheeks non stop.
“Patton, honey...” Janus clicked his tongue and quickly sat beside Patton, opening his arms for the other to snuggle in his embrace. The moment he was sat Patton clung to his torso and sobbed hard and loud, burying his face in Janus' chest and wetting his shirt with tears. Janus frowned, his brows furrowing in concern, and started rubbing slow circles on Patton back.
“I’m so sorry...” He whispered. “Shhhhhh.....” Janus started rocking gently back and forth, trying to sooth Patton’s ache.
They sat like that for a few minutes, holding each other. Janus took the opportunity to look around at the apartment. It was a really saddening look. Everywhere you looked there were cat themed objects. Never mind the cat stickers decorating the walls and the little kitty sculptures on the shelves, everything in this house screamed that there’s a feline resident in there.
A brown cat bed with a monkey plushie sitting in its corner.
Three carton boxes in different sizes were lined up opened against the wall.
A carton board on the floor beneath a blue bench that was much too small for a human. The board was covered in claw marks and teared a bit in the edges.
Toys were scattered everywhere on the floor. Mice, spikey balls, balls with little bells inside. There was one cat wand on the floor near the cat bed, a stick with a brown furry string and several colorful feathers tied to the end.
A blue cat tree was standing next to the sofa, a plaid blanket cushioned the lowest platform.
The armchair was covered in absurd amounts of cat fur, as if to say this was her spot, no one else's.
Janus lifted his gaze upwards. The walls weren't spared either. On two different walls there were blue cushioned shelves designed as stairs, going from the floor to a level above Janus' head as he stood in his full height, and Patton was shorter than him. On one step of the stairs sat a small tiger plushie.
As Patton's sobs slowly quieted down, the silence between the two was disturbed only by a small water fountain in the corner of the room, trickling steadily.
Patton didn’t want to let go of Janus. He felt like someone pulled the rug from under his feet, and Janus' firm hands were his only lifeline. He smelled nice, too, as much as Patton was able to smell with a stuffy nose from all the crying. Like the comfort and nostalgia of opening an old book with yellowing pages, with just a hint of cologne. He was warm, and it felt comforting to be held by him, like a comfort blanket. Patton was no longer crying, just inhaling Janus' scent softly to ground himself. Janus' fingers caressed the back of his head and Patton leaned into the touch.
Eventually Janus broke the silence.
"She's had a good life." He whispered into Patton's hair, and Patton felt the vibrations rumble in his chest.
Patton sighed heavily. "Yeah..." he mumbled. Sniffling once, he pulled himself away and wiped the remaining tears off his cheeks, the ones that weren't coating Janus' shirt. He looked down at the blanket he was holding.
"That's hers, right?" Janus asked.
"Yeah," said Patton, "I used it to get her into the cage, you know how she gets," he chuckled humorlessly. Janus gave him a sad smile. "She was also... wrapped in it when... when the vet... you know..."
"Yeah..." Janus rubbed his hand on Patton's arm comfortingly.
"You know, she's had a kidney failure two years ago, and the vet said that we're only prolonging the inevitable. Eventually it'll happen again and it'll be the end," Patton busied his hand with the hem of the blanket, "but I thought it'll be at least... five years, you know? Not two. Not that it wouldn't have been hard either way, but, still... It's just... so abrupt," he frowned, the tears threatening to overflow again.
"Well," Janus hesitated, "at least now you won't need the antihistamines anymore, right?" he tried for humor, and Patton's lips broke into a genuine smile and he laughed weakly through his nose.
"Right..." His smile slowly turned into a solemn expression and he sighed. "What if..." he bit his lower lip, "what if I could've stopped it?"
"Patton, no. It is not your fault."
"No, I know... The vet said it would've happened anyway... But what if I wasn't perceptive enough? Maybe if I'd noticed something's wrong sooner they could've saved her..." Tears began to accumulate in Patton's eyes.
"Sweetie, listen to me." Janus took both of Patton's hands in his and looked straight into his eyes. "It is not your fault. You were an amazing owner. You loved her so much and gave her everything she could've ever dreamed of."
"But I-"
"Shh shh shh, no buts," Janus used his thumb to gently wipe a stray tear off Patton's cheek, beneath his glasses. "I've known you since before you adopted her. I've seen how you took care of her with everything you have. Spending nights treating her when she was sick, doing everything in your power every day to make her take the medicine you knew she hated but made her feel better, staying awake late to pet her just because she didn't want to go to sleep and you couldn't bare to say no to her. Darling, trust me when I say, she was the luckiest cat in the world to have you as her owner."
Patton started sobbing again, furiously wiping his tears with his fingers, dirtying his wet glasses even more. Janus clicked his tongue. "Come here," he said as he pulled Patton to his embrace once again, placing a kiss on the crown of his head. "It's ok to grieve," he whispered, rocking them back and forth, "but don't beat yourself up about things out of your control." Patton sniffed, nodding weakly. Janus waited a bit before saying, "Let's bring you some water, ok honey?" Patton nodded again and pulled back. "I'll be right back." Janus said and petted Patton's cheek gently. He stood up and walked to the kitchen to get Patton a glass of water.
In the kitchen, Janus noticed a bowl of dry cat food in the corner. He debated getting rid of it and sparing Patton the pain, but decided against it. He'll ask Patton if he needs help with it, but he might want to do it himself to get some closure.
Janus returned to the living room with a glass of water in his hand. Patton looked up at him as he approached and small smile spread on his face. Janus' chest filled with warmth. He'll do anything for this man, he just wants him to be happy.
"Thank you," Patton said and reached his hand to grab the glass.
"You're welcome, honey," Janus replied as he took his place on the sofa.
They were silent for a moment as Patton drank. "You know," he said, lowering the glass to his lap and holding it with both hands. "I keep thinking about how naïve I was when I adopted her."
"Naïve? How so?"
"I thought it was funny, giving a cat a number as a name. You know, Nine, as in nine lives?" Janus looked at Patton, concern apparent on his forehead. Patton was looking down to his glass in his lap. "Of course there were other reasons too. It was September 2009 when I got her. The ninth month of the ninth year of the milenium. It was so fitting! Of course I couldn't give up the opportunity to give her a name that's a play on words!" Janus frowned and rubbed Patton's knee. "But cats don't really have nine lives, do they? Not even a cat named Nine..." He sighed.
Janus looked at him in silence. It was good that Patton was talking. Janus has spent years trying to make Patton to open up to him. He was always hiding behind jokes and a huge smile. He needed a safe platform to be able to unload everything weighing down on his chest. Janus was always happy to provide him that safe space, and the fact that Patton trusted him enough by now to open up to him was a bit overwhelming, in a good way. But it wasn't about Janus right now, it's about Patton and his pain. Janus knew Patton so well by now, that he didn't need to check to know that if he stayed silent, Patton would open up even more and unload more of his negative feelings, and Janus would be there for him when he does.
Surely enough, after a few moments of silence, Patton let out a breathy laugh, devoid of humor. "I keep thinking she's gonna come out from around the corner like everything's normal... You'd think dying is a one time thing. She died, that's it. It happened. Now we're after it. But it's not..." Patton emptied his glass and placed it on the table. "It's still happening. She didn't just die... She's dead. And she keeps being dead, all the time, over and over again. Every time I look to the hallway and expect her to walk out with her tail wiggling high, she's dead again. Every time I think of her... She's dead. Again. She's really... not coming back... She's staying dead." Patton played with the sleeve of the hoodie that was always tied around his shoulders. "Look at me," he chuckled, "I'm even wearing a cat hoodie. I'm pathetic..." He sighed.
"Patton honey," Janus wrapped his arms over Patton's shoulders and pulled him to rest against his chest, maneuvering himself to a more comfortable position, leaning back on the sofa. "You're not pathetic. Ok?" He stroked Patton's hair with his hand. "Those things take time. I'm not going to lie to you and tell you it'll all be gone one day and you won't feel anything. That's never going to happen." Patton pouted in response. "But it won't be as painful. It won't be an open wound anymore. It will scar." Patton's eyes widened and he looked up to Janus, letting his eyes rest on the scar tissue on the man's left cheek. "A scar is... a reminder of what once was. It's unpleasant to look at, and it's scruffy to touch, and remembering what left the scar is... painful, to say the least." Patton's brows furrowed in a frown. Janus smiled warmly at him. "But it doesn't hurt by itself anymore. You can live your life and not even remember it's there most of the time. At first it hurts and itches and every move you make has to be calculated because the wound is bleeding and everything hurts. But with a scar you don't have to do that anymore. You're going to be ok." Patton sighed and rested his cheek on Janus' chest. "And you know, I thought about what you said." Patton raised his eyebrows and hummed in question. "You weren't naïve. You were being funny, and witty, and wonderful, like you always are." Patton's cheeks warmed in a blush. "I know it might take a while, but I can already see you in a few months with your two new kitties, Seven and Five." Patton giggled and Janus smiled, kissing his hair.
It wasn't perfect. In fact, it was extremely painful, and the grieving process has just begun. But maybe Janus was right. It had a nice ring to it, Seven and Five. Nine's little siblings. Of course, she'll never know them, but it's nice imagining how his first cat's name becomes a legacy in all of his future cats. Patton sighed. It's not going to be easy. But with Janus by his side, maybe, just maybe, he can do it. He will be ok.
11 notes · View notes
jungcity · 4 years
Text
bane of the devil. | vi
genre: vampire!jaehyun [angst | fluff | smut]
pairings: jaehyun x female reader
words: 5.4k
warning: bane of the devil deals with themes of physical, mental, and sexual abuse as well as toxic relationships. which may be upsetting for some readers. you are advised not to continue if you feel uncomfortable to these types of plots.
note: hello, loves! i will probably put botd on hold. to be honest, my laptop is broken and i solely rely on my phone in writing the chapters. i really don’t have a stable internet connection, i only use my mobile data, which is costing me too much money lately during this pandemic. in spite of that, i will still continue to draft the chapters on my phone. and i will try to upload them whenever i could. thank you for reading botd! thank you for all the support and i hope that you, guys, stay healthy during this trying times! sending you lots of love! 🤍
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“the ocean is blood
the sky is red
the sun is poison
the demons watched
in the fire that separates
both your souls apart
they bared their fangs,
their horns tipped with blood.
terrifying, they are
but he is their god
and no wrath would compare
to the one that he has
if the world allowed you to
bleed and crumble to dust.”
— bane of the devil // vi
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You and Jaehyun. Inside a limousine. Alone.
You would have been a sweating mess if not for the cold provided by the air conditioner. Jaehyun sat, beside you. You fiddled with your fingers, trying to soothe your nerves. Since when did you start being flustered around Jaehyun? Madame Juana’s statement about blocking your heart did not even help, it had only augmented the burden on your already heavy shoulders.
How could someone tell you that? Is it too obvious? Are you too obvious? But you do not even know if you like Jaehyun. Yes, he could make your cheeks heat up, make your heart beat abnormally, but that’s because of his unending bold statements and feisty jests. Not because you feel something for him. Right?
“Where are we going?”
You blinked and shifted on your seat. Jaehyun’s eyes were closed, his arms crossed against his chest. Right. You still hadn’t told him about your plans to become a vampire hunter. In other sense of things, why would you? Do you owe him an explanation? You furrowed your brows at the realizations. If you ever tell him about your plans, he does not have the rights to express disagreement with it.
You tried to rack your brain to remember the long title of the academy. It was Latin, mixed with English at the end. “Vena… Venatri—”
“Venatrix? Academy of the Arcane?” Jaehyun sat up straight, his eyes boring into yours for confirmation.
The name felt utterly fitted to what Madame Juana told you earlier. You nodded. “Yes.”
“What the fuck were you thinking?” He hissed. “That is the school for aspiring vampire hunters!” It would seem like he wanted to shout, but couldn’t. Vampires do not breath, yet Jaehyun seemed to be heaving deep sighs, his nostrils flaring. But his exasperation slowly receded as you showed no bafflement. “You know. And you wanted to be a vampire hunter.”
He stared you down, his face too close to yours. Why do you feel as if you were wrong? Wrong for not telling him about your plan prior to the discussion you had with Madame Juana.
You pressed your lips tighter, and tried to break the eye contact. But Jaehyun grabbed your cheeks, guiding you, once again, to face him. His chocolate brown eyes were full of emotions, the first time you’ve seen them convey such feelings. Even so, you still could not name the emotions in his eyes; there was grief, longing, wanting, and disappointment.
Jaehyun finally spoke in what seemed like forever, “You can do what you want, Y/N. But I don’t want to be your enemy.” He cupped both your cheeks, your noses hairsbreadth away from each other. “Can we not be enemies?”
Jaehyun closed his eyes, then you felt his breath as his lips closes by. There was a small part of you that wanted to push him away. He is a betrothed man. But your heart was elevating, wanting to feel his lips against yours. You parted your lips and waited for the kiss.
Only when Mr. Jones rolled down the partition and cleared his throat did you have the strength to push Jaehyun away.
“We have arrived, Mr. Jung, Ms. Y/L/N.” He gave each of you a curt nod. His face did not give away any clue whether he had seen Jaehyun almost kissing you.
“T-thank you, Mr. Jones.” You presented the butler your wide smile, all while trying to gulp down the embarrassment blazing in your cheeks. Jaehyun shut his eyes again, frustration obvious on his face.
Can we not be enemies? Is joining the Academy meant being enemies with Jaehyun already? You didn’t want to be enemies, too. But if that’s the only way to prepare yourself, to make yourself stronger for the danger that lies in the future— you absolutely, without doubt, would prefer being enemies with him.
The door of the limousine slid to the side, revealing a cemented road. Jaehyun was the first one to depart the vehicle, followed by you.
You stared in awe as the Academy came into view. It was located in the distance. From outside the gates you could see the long pathway, adorned with trees teeming with fronds at the sideways. The wrought iron gate was exactly what you would see before entering a palace or a mansion. It looked regal, medieval, and slightly terrifying for your taste.
Mr. Jones had ordered two men to carry your luggages, you would have refused but the butler gave you a silent tap on the shoulder and a kind smile, resulting in you, letting the two men go.
“Welcome to Venatrix: Academy of the Arcane, Miss Y/N. Mr. Jung.” Mr. Jones slightly bowed, his hand stretched towards the entrance of the gate. As if on cue, the wrought iron gate parted and slid on both sides, revealing a better view of the path that lies ahead. From your position, you could clearly see the fountain at the center and end of the walkway.
Jaehyun showed a vacant expression. Not a trace of perturbation could be felt from him. It almost seemed like he did not care whether he would enter a school that trains vampire hunters— trains his enemy.
A certain conscience for the bond you both have, no matter how complicated it is, ignites in your chest. For a moment, it had not felt right to let Jaehyun enter the premises of his nemesis for your sake.
“Mr. Jones?”
The butler turned his head to yours, his slight smile never faltering. As he noticed your eyes glancing at Jaehyun through your peripheral, he nodded his head.
“Madame Juana has already informed the students about Mr. Jung’s arrival, Miss Y/L/N.”
You exhaled. Madame Juana had prepared to travel ahead of you, to inform the Academy about Jaehyun and to smooth things out. More over, to prevent an infighting by the sight of a vampire.
Jaehyun snorted, “No one could kill me inside, Y/N.”
He said no one could. Not no one would. You rolled your eyes and pretended not to hear him.
Mr. Jones stretched his hand out again, the gates behind you closed, locking the old life away. You took a step and walked towards the Academy, towards the life beyond.
The sound of the water dancing in the fountain covered the whole atmosphere. Little insects and butterflies flew around you and back to the flowers as you neared the main building. A sudden nostalgia washed through you, the structure was like a palace, the tips of it could almost pierce the clouds high up in the skies. It reminded you of Hogwarts. Less Voldemort, you hope.
Madame Juana’s dress touched the tiled floors as she hurriedly walked towards you, Lucas trailing behind her. A warm and tight embrace was what she gave you, her smile lively and endearing.
“I’m glad you arrived safe, darling.” She kissed both your cheeks.
“Welcome to Venatrix, Y/N.” Lucas gave you one of his boyish smiles, before taking your hand and kissing the back of it. Jaehyun snorted, but you weren’t certain for it seemed like you were the only one who heard it. Lucas turned his head towards Jaehyun and gave him a curt nod. The latter only stared at him deadpanned.
Before you could say anything, Madame had already wrapped her arms around yours.
“I have so much to show you, Y/N,” she giggled, excitement obvious on her face. Despite being half a millennia years older than you, Madame still gave away the spirit of an older sister as she led you inside.
Different sets of eyes centered on you as you finally stepped inside the Academy. Some were fascinated, but most looked as if they wanted to strangle Jaehyun. He walked with indifference, clearly disregarding the death stares thrown at him by the students. Lucas was right. Vampires and vampire hunters weren’t friendly to each other in spite of the treaty.
Madame Juana led you to the stairs and into the veranda which overlooked the open courtyard below. Jaehyun stayed in the shadows, mindful of the unpredictable sun.
You strayed your eyes away from him and decided to watch down the students below. All of them are clad with a black suit, adorned with a lot of straps; straps around their legs, their waists, and around their arms. The hair of every women were pulled taut in a high bun, but those who has a shorter hair resorted to hairpins. The men has a similar uniform to that of the women’s. They all looked lethal; kicking, punching, and defending themselves against each other.
“Is that what I’m going to wear?” You asked, cheeks slowly heating up by realizing how the suit hugs the body of the women.
“Yes, darling. For easy movements.” Madame flicked her finger as she looked down the students. “Venatrix!” she bellowed. As if on instinct, all the students drew in a halt, their heads tilted up to see Madame.
They bowed then looked straight to their fronts, fist pressed against their chest where their hearts were located, before shouting the words, “Venatrix: steadfast and loyal!”
Complete and pure awe enveloped you as you stared at them. You have never seen such discipline before.
“I would like to introduce to you our new student: Y/N Y/L/N. She had arrived here in the hopes to hasten her determination and skill—” Madame turned her head towards you. In that moment, you felt the urge to tug on her sleeves and plead not to roar your true reasons of joining the Academy. She smiled and held your hand, before turning her head towards the students down the courtyard. “— to help us protect the people. Chances such as this one are rare. I will tolerate no undermining, and belittling. Camaraderie is all I hope for, and camaraderie you will give to Y/N.”
Slowly, all of their heads tilted up to see you for the second time. You have expected to hear whispers of uncertainties to erupt from the students, but none came. They regarded you with fathomless eyes. Then in the blink of an eye, their fist was on their sides, their backs rigid.
“In Venatrix’s hand, and in Venatrix’s grace,” they bellowed once again.
You knotted your brows, unable to determine the meaning behind the words. Madame waved her hand, then the students went back on their training as if nothing had happened.
“That’s their way to welcome and bless a new student,” Lucas explained from behind you.
You craned your neck to see him, and smiled. “I am so fascinated right now.”
“Come, we’ll show you around.” He nodded while placing his hand on the small of your back.
You nodded your head. As you did so, you noticed Jaehyun looking at you through your peripheral. The sun was glaringly bright in the skies. It won’t be pleasant to ask him to join you. Yet you could not leave him behind. The students have given him cold stares and unwelcoming glances.
Lucas and Madame walks ahead of you now. They were too indulged in their conversation to notice you, sauntering up to Jaehyun behind the shadows of the pillars.
“Do you want to stay here?”
Jaehyun stared at you, “I’ll be fine.”
“Just… don’t get into trouble,” you breathed, glancing around for any eavesdropping ears.
“I am trouble embodiment, kitten. What do you expect?”
You glared at him. Jaehyun’s mouth quirked up to a smile, before waving at the distant student from the other side of the building.
“Hi!” he shouted. The student only stared at him as if Jaehyun disgusted every cell in her body already.
You stared at him with hooded eyes, “Can you not show your fangs?”
As if on impulse, Jaehyun retracted his canines. “Girls finds it attractive, you know.”
“Not in a school where students literally trains how to kill you.” Your vapid reply.
“Y/N?” Lucas called for you from afar.
You took a quick glance at him before waving your hand slightly towards Jaehyun, while mouthing the words, ‘Be good’. He only nodded and faintly gave your back a push.
As you walked through the corridors of the second level of the Academy, more and more students have appeared from different rooms. Some of them were carrying thick tomes, some bandaging their fists or sharpening their knives. One thing you have noticed, they do not smile so often. Only pressing their palms against their chests every time Madame passes in front of them. Which gave you the notion that maybe Madame holds a great position in this Academy more than you would have realized.
Lucas seemed to notice your furrowed brows and inquiring looks, for he leaned closer to your ear while walking. “Madame Juana is one of the founder of this Academy alongside Diego Asdalis. One hundred years ago, they met and decided to build a house for aspiring venatrixes.”
More questions formed in your head by his explanation. “I supposed, Diego Asdalis had already passed away?”
“Yes.” The words were delivered with a certain kind of melancholy and dripping reverence for the deceased leader. “Powerful and cunning he was, he still hadn’t escaped the hands of cancer.”
“I’m sorry,” you muttered, loss for any comforting words to offer him.
“It’s okay, Y/N. I really didn’t meet him.” Lucas chuckled a toneless one, “Madame is the only living person in the Academy who had the chance to meet him. But that didn’t change the reality that Diego was the best venator to ever graced this school.”
“What’s a venator?” It’s the first time you heard the word. Along with venatrix.
“It’s a male hunter. While venatrix—”
“Is a female hunter?” You predicted with a smile on your lips.
Lucas nodded while pointing at you, “Yes! So, you’re going to be a venatrix soon— oh! Here we are!” Then he stretched out his hand to show you something.
You stared at the painting with veneration. The portrait depicts a man of fine features, his eyebrows were thick, his eyes the color of the skies at night, his lips were full and luscious. At the end of the portrait was the words, ‘circa 1894’.
“This is Diego.” Madame looked up at the portrait, her back facing you.
Diego’s eyes seemed to be looking at you with curiosity. As if he knew your true intentions of joining the Academy. And that he wasn’t entirely certain if he was happy nor disappointed in you.
“He was a fine-looking man.” You covered your mouth as quickly as you could after the words slid out. Madame and Lucas stared at you, then they let out a merry laugh that echoed through the walls.
“Yes, he was, darling. But behind the beauty, he was the most valiant man you’d ever meet.” There was affection by the way Madame stated the words. “I was lucky I had the chance to meet Diego,” she sighed. Then she turned around to the other corner, and the three of you descended the stairs. “Let’s go to the armory.”
You took a perfunctory glance towards the portrait, before letting Lucas guide you away. The three of you veered on your right. Bushes of flowers adorned the pathway. From the distance, you could see the students going on with their training.
“Madame!”
A girl darted towards you and hugged Madame as if she was afraid to let go. Lucas rolled his eyes, but a smile had spread on his lips as he watched the two women. Curiosity wrapped around you as you stared at the woman, her hair was in a tight and high bun, and she was wearing a uniform similar to that of every women in the Academy. But there was a white insignia pinned on her chest— an arrow piercing the center of a circle— the same as Lucas.
“Is she the girl?” she asked, looking at you in wonderment. Madame nodded at her. She trudged the distance between the two of you, hair swaying left and right behind her. Her hand was outstretched to you in an instant, a wide smile etched on her pinkish lips.
“Hi! I am Eva!”
You blinked and swiftly took her hand to shake, “I am Y/N.”
Her next move was unexpected, for she pulled you in a tight hug. “Finally! I am so excited to meet you!”
“Hey! Don’t scare her!” Lucas tried to unwrapped Eva’s hands around you.
The woman frowned at him, “You’re such a pain in the ass, Lucas.”
Lucas ignored her and turned his head towards you instead. “Y/N, this is Eva. She’s the commander of the women here in the Academy.”
“And he’s the commander of the men.” Eva cheekily said, her thumb pointing at Lucas.
“That’s so cool.” You stated, in awe. Certainly, it takes too much training, discipline, and hard work to be one of the commanders. “Is that why you have those?” You pointed at the white insignia pressed to both of their chests.
Eva’s head bowed down and then back to you, “Yes. This is more like a sign that we already are a member of the VHC.”
“Simply put, they are called professors,” Madame chimed in. “But they don’t really teach those boring Algebraic expressions,” she laughed, “Only the history of the Corporation. Strategies how to outwit a vampire and trainings on how to kill them.” Madame went on, her fingers swaying by every word.
“And we don’t really stand in front to talk for hours. In here, we learn from each other. If you have something to share, you could always talk about your sentiments. And vice versa,” Lucas explained with a smile.
“We completely involve ourselves only when it comes to trainings. Such as the archery, fencing, swords, daggers— to prevent injuries.” Eva smiled.
For a moment, all feels too overwhelming for you to process. But you would never deny the thrill that was coursing through your veins as you took in their explanations. Venatrix feels so different from universities. That is expected for an academy which literally takes in and teaches students how to be a vampire hunter, and not how to achieve a certain profession after graduation. But there was a particular divergence by the way the students enrolled here were free to talk about what they know, and to ask about things that they don’t. Some schools does not allow the same freedom for students.
“By the way… where is the infamous vampire?” Eva glanced behind and around you, her eyes searching for the dimpled vampire.
“Oh, the sun isn’t very cooperative today. So he remained inside,” you explained with a small smile.
Eva frowned, “That’s too bad. I’ve heard a great deal about him.”
“Alright, that’s enough Eva. Y/N needs to see the armory,” Madame voiced out.
“Oh! I’m sorry, Madame. I suppose I should get to work, some venatrix needs a little bend today.”
“Go easy on them, Eva. Two venatrixes literally fractured their bones by how arduous you train them.” Lucas crossed his arms against his chest, exuding authority.
“If they don’t learn the hard way, Lucas, they would die in the most dumbest ways once they come face to face with a fledgling,” Eva rolled her eyes. She turned to face you, and gave you one last hug before darting away, waving her hands to the three of you.
Fledgling are the newly born vampires. They are more feral and they require a great deal of pure human blood in the span of twenty-four hours after being turned. Or else they would die, wither and not complete the vampire process. To encounter a fledgling would be like encountering a wild beast. Eva was only right to go hard on the hunters if they wanted to defeat a raging fledgling.
“She would authorize your own training, Y/N,” Madame pronounced as the three of you continued your walk towards the armory.
A trail of sweat ran down your spine, you have no idea if it was because of the sun already at its peak or the thought of Eva bending and breaking all the bones in your body.
“It’s a pleasure.”
“You can drop the pleasantries, darling.” Madame chuckled, “No one, who truly knows Eva, would say that,” she added.
Before you could attempt an answer, the oak door of the armory already opened, revealing rows and rows of weapons; knives, daggers, swords, bows, balisongs. They were hung up on the wall, high enough to be reachable. Several shelves containing of weapons and armors greeted you whenever you look. It would seem as if the whole cavernous room was meant for weapons and weapons only.
Lucas placed a hand on your back, guiding you towards the iron shelves. The edges of different knives caught the infiltrating sunlight through the windows, intensifying its sharpness with a white light.
“You could pick your own weapon, Y/N. Whatever you’re comfortable with,” Madame told you.
You picked up one dagger, its hilt twisted in a spiraling motion, the blade silver, mirroring your face in a blurred image.
Everything felt like a fever dream. Ever since your parents had died, you have dreamed of mastering every weapon in the armory. You have yearned to train yourself, prepare yourself, for the vengeance that whispered to you and for the wrath that pulsated in every cell of your body. That vengeance feels so near, as if you could grasp it at any moment.
But as you think about the toilsome training every student in the Academy has gone through, and is still going through, the fire in your heart could not help but waver. Am I capable? was the incessant question in your mind.
You felt a hand on your shoulder, it was Lucas’.
As if he saw the concern in your eyes, he said, “Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
“Thank you, Lucas. That’s comfor—”
You were interrupted by the loud bang of the armory door as it opened. A huffing venator darted towards Lucas.
“What happened?” Madame inquired.
The venator pressed his palms on his knees, breathing heavily. “The… the vampire—”
Without another word, you departed the armory and ran straight towards the second floor of the main building. The sky was dark, the sun nowhere to be seen. Perspiration covered your whole forehead, the sweat dripping down your face, as you ran and think about all the hideous things that could happen to Jaehyun inside the academy of vampire hunters.
Lucas and Madame swiftly trailed behind you, their own brows furrowed. Before you could climb up the stairs, a brawl in the open courtyard drew you in a sudden halt. Jaehyun’s figure was easy to track even in the throng of individuals. He was staggering on his feet, before the venator kicked him right on his stomach, causing him to crumple on the ground.
An alien type of resentment flowed in your veins by the sight. Not because of Jaehyun fighting with a hunter, but because of the hunter hurting Jaehyun. You ran and shouldered your way towards him. Jaehyun is fully capable to land a straight blow towards the hunter. Even in the blink of an eye, he could kill the venator. But he laid still on the ground, acting as if he was in pain.
The venator grabbed Jaehyun’s collar, and it took all your willpower not to fly towards them and push the venator away. Your feet were locked up on the ground, unable to move. He grabbed his collar tightly, his fists turning whites. A trickle of blood ran down the side of Jaehyun’s mouth, but there was amusement in his eyes as he stared at the venator. As if he was fascinated by the hunter’s audacity and bravery.
“In here, vampire, you are not a god.”
You had witnessed how the venator’s jaw tightened by his words. Anger flows freely on his face, his own veins protruding on his temple. No one, in the crowd of hunters, dared to move a finger to stop the fight.
Jaehyun smiled a smugly one. His nose made a long snorting sound, and before you knew it, he had already spat saliva in the venator’s face. Stillness covered the whole courtyard. Your mouth demanded to release a scream, or any sound, but none came. You stared in horror together with the venators and venatrixes spectating the brawl.
The venator who has been grabbing Jaehyun’s collar went stock-still, his jaw pulled taut. The vampire laughed, which intensified the ire resting in the venator’s bones that he attempted to punch Jaehyun right in the face.
You could not watch it anymore. You ran towards them. With all your might, you grabbed the venator’s arm.
Before you could say something, the venator flinched, which caused his arm to hit you right in the nose. You saw the way Jaehyun’s eyes widened as you fell on your breeches to the ground, your vision swam. Shouts filled the whole courtyard, but you could not name the voices. Warm liquid flowed from your nose to the sides of your mouth as you struggled to stand up. Delicate hands held you, helping you on your feet.
It was Madame Juana, her brows knotted in concern. You blinked rapidly, feeling as if you were saved from drowning.
“Venators! Hold Jaehyun! Tightly!” Lucas bellowed, then he turned his head towards the unconscious venator on the ground. “Bring Peter to the clinic! Now! Before he dies!”
Six venators flew to Jaehyun’s side, the two gripping his arms, while the other four guarding him. His fangs were bared, his eyes red. Visions from yesterday swam in your mind. The visions from where Jaehyun fought with the other vampire. He looks as if six venators wouldn’t be able to stop his wrath.
That’s when you came into view. You touched the liquid that had ceased to flow from your broken nose, then you wiped off the blood with your shirt. Panic strikes Jaehyun’s eyes as he looked at you. His throat bobbing up and down. He struggled to release himself but the venators grip was tight. But Jaehyun possesses a Herculean strength, no venators could hold him any longer.
“I’m okay,” you told him.
His eyes seemed to calmed down as they returned to their natural color, his fangs slowly retracted back to its normal form. Then he gave the venators a lackluster gaze.
“Unhand me.”
The venators exchanged glances with Lucas, their commander. He pursed his lips and walked towards Jaehyun.
“Swear that you will not harm anyone.”
Jaehyun hung his head, a chuckle resonating from his throat. Then he tilted his head to stare Lucas down with an icy glare. “Swear that your dogs won’t touch Y/N again.”
“It was an accident,” Lucas stated, trying to placate the vampire’s anger.
“Do I give a flying fuck? Once she ended up bleeding because of these fuckers again—” Jaehyun ran a swift glare around the courtyard and the venators, “— I will burn this whole academy down.”
“That’s not exactly the nicest shit I’ve expected you to say, vampire.”
All head turned towards the owner of the voice. Eva sauntered up towards the scene. Venators and venatrixes parting to give her way.
“Eva,” Madame called out, warning Eva with her eyes.
But she only smiled at the witch, before standing face to face with Jaehyun. She was obviously much smaller than him, causing her neck to crane upwards a little bit. “We could kill you without doubts here,” she warned.
“Try me.” Jaehyun squinted his eyes.
“Jaehyun, please.” You walked towards him, your nose still aching. Gulping down the agitation, you held his shoulder with the hopes to soothe him. “Let it go.”
His tense muscles seems to calm down under your touch. Then a nod from Lucas made the venators release him, at last. He broke his eye contact with Eva, then he focused his attention on you. “Are you still hurting?”
“A little bit. But I’m fine.”
“Y/N, I think we should go to the clinic,” Lucas advised.
You turned your head towards him, “Yeah.” Your feet started to walk, Lucas guiding you towards the clinic. It was located behind the main building, you’ve noticed earlier as you roamed your eyes before entering the armory.
A hand caught your wrist, turning you around. It was Jaehyun.
“I’ll come with you,”
“Jaehyun, Peter is on the clinic. We couldn’t let you near him now that he’s possibly in a coma,” Lucas stated.
Jaehyun did not look at him, he only pulled you towards the clinic. You pursed your lips. There’s nothing you could do about it. Madame Juana signed Lucas to back down, so he formed his lips in a tight line and joined the two of you.
You dare a glance to your back. Eva was dissipating the crowd of venators and venatrixes by bellowing orders. They were quick to get back on their training, as if nothing had happened.
The clinic was the only room in the whole Academy that appeared to be in modernly designs. A girl, uniformed with white clothes, similar to that of a nurse, stood up when you entered. It would seem as if she knew what to do with you already. For she sat you on the bed covered with white linens.
Jaehyun stayed in Lucas’ care, at the sofa in front of the nurse’s table. Madame had gone with you behind the curtains.
“Does it still hurt?” Madame asked, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“It does,” you admitted. Your nose feels as if it was cloven in two. You could feel the swelling of the muscles in it and the ache in your bones.
The nurse smiled and gave you a clean cloth. It felt ice cold in your hand.
“Just press it over the swell for fifteen minutes,” she instructed. Her hands guided your back to lay on the bed. You felt the ache in your head as you oblige and lay down on the sheets.
“Ms. Jane, could you watch her for me?” Madame asked, “I just need to check up her bedroom.”
The nurse smiled, then Madame held your hand. You nodded and then she departed the clinic. Silence once again enveloped the whole room when the nurse walked back to her table. A glimpse of Jaehyun’s pants caught your eyes as the curtain swayed. No conversations, nor whispers, could be heard from the both of them. After a few minutes, the door of the clinic opened and closed.
You turned on your sides, and tried to close your eyes. Jaehyun probably had exited the clinic already. The curtains suddenly rattled. You anticipated to see Lucas’ tall frame, but the dimpled vampire greeted you.
His face was impassive as he took in your situation. Then he sat on the small space beside you, his eyes looking at the floors.
“I tried not to fight him,” he said defensively.
You were out of words to say. However, you have witnessed how Jaehyun had barred himself from attacking the venator back. He could easily knock him out on the ground, but he didn’t. It wasn’t like you have little faith in the venator’s skills, it was only that Jaehyun still possessed an inhuman strength for being a vampire.
“I know, Jaehyun.” Your voice was delivered as a whisper. “I just hoped that you didn’t hit him back.”
Jaehyun snapped his head towards you. “But he hit you!”
“It was an accident. I am alright,” you weakly stated.
“Alright? You have a broken nose, Y/N.”
You sat, then you hugged your knees closer to your chest. “I need this, Jaehyun.” Your lips tightened, “Please, don’t ruin this for me.”
A spark passed through Jaehyun’s eyes. Your words were like a bolt out of the blue. Then he painted his lips a low-spirited smirk. Your breath was caught in your throat by the sight of him. He looked… hurt.
You pursed your lips, then laid a hand on his shoulder. By your touch, Jaehyun bolted upright.
You will hurt, you will bleed, your bones will break. Those are the things the Academy needs you to sacrifice. Jaehyun isn’t the man for patience, but your conscience wouldn’t be able to rest if he keeps on losing his restraint by the sight of you either bleeding or hurting. On top of things, why would he sacrifice his life in his enemy’s ground for you?
“I didn’t mean it that way,” you breathed. You feel wretched immediately, as if you were splashed by cold water.
But Jaehyun had already turned his back on you and departed the clinic without a word.
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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years
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94 for sternclay for the winter prompts??? Especially if trans stern because I love that for him:’) either nsfw or sfw, hope you have a wonderful day!!!!! Your writing is a gift
Thank you so much!  I went with NSFW, and Stern is indeed trans.
94. you overhear my ex mocking me for being single at a holiday party and introduce yourself as my SO with a kiss on the cheek but we’ve never spoken before 
The things he does to pay for culinary school. 
It’s not the catering gig that’s bothering him; he takes pride in making food at conferences and office parties better than expected. It’s the fucking red, white, and green uniforms they’re making them wear for this one. It’s hot, itchy, and he really would prefer to wear the winter sweater Thacker gave him last year. It’s rustic but festive. It’s also sitting in his car, because no one told him about these uniforms until he got here. 
You can’t spring a surprise uniform on a guy who’s 6’4 and 190 pounds. The vest digs into his stomach, the jacket is too tight, and the pants don’t cover his ankles. 
It’s too bad, this party is pretty fun to work. It’s for a big-name publisher looking to seem hip, so the band is good and the decorations don’t look like the Macy’s Parade puked all over the room. 
The meals aren’t sit down, more a five hour cocktail party with canapes on trays and a spread of food at the back. Barclay sets out a new plate of crostini, wondering if they have enough fruit for the evening, when someone taps his shoulder. 
“How can I help-”
“I need a refill.” James, his ex, smirks at him.
“Not the bartender.” Barclay picks up the empty tray. 
“So?”
“I stopped being the guy to refill your drinks when you dumped me. Go ask whatever poor sap you dragged to this to do it for you.”
“Poor sap? Barclay, you sound like one of those boring mysteries you always read.”
“I’m trying not to swear, I’m at work.”
“Too bad you left me-”
“You broke up with me”
“-You could be enjoying the party instead of serving lukewarm food in a ridiculous outfit. Then again, looking like a clown suits you.”
“Man, c’mon.” Barclay can’t get into it here, James is absolutely the kind of guy who will use it to get him fired.
“Not surprised you haven’t found someone who wants to put up with your whole puppy-dog routine. What good is all that bulk if you’re just a pus-”
“There you are.” An arm snakes around Barclays waist and he freezes. James stands up straight, plastering on a smile.
“I wish I’d know ahead of time this is where you were working tonight. It feels wrong to be out mingling when you’re stuck back here. Oh well, next year.” A soft kiss lands on his cheek and in his surprise he turns to look at it’s source. 
The man is almost his height, trimmer and dressed in a black suit with a blue and silver tie. He’s blue eyed, with jet black hair slicked back and a face that puts every movie star Barclay can name to shame.
Barclay has no fucking clue who he is, or if he’s mistaking Barclay for someone else. He doesn’t seem drunk enough for that. 
“Mr. Stern, it’s an honor to meet you, I, uh, this-”
“This must be the ex you told me about, right, big guy?” Mr. Stern sets a protective hand at the small of his back.
“Uh, yeah. Babe, this is James.”
“So, where at Penguin do you work?”
“I, um, oh, look, someone is calling me. Bye, Barclay, nice seeing you again.”
The hand doesn't leave his back until James is out of sight.
“I’m sorry. He was harassing you and that seemed like the fastest way to make him stop.” Mr. Stern is still standing proud, but his voice is now softer, almost shy. 
“That’s, uh, that’s totally fine. I really appreciate the help. Kinda surprise you saw flirting as more appealing than, like, pretending to be my boss or something.”
“He’d know I wasn’t, trust me. And don’t sell yourself short, Barclay.” Blue eyes lock onto him and scan all the way to his feet, “even a bad fitting uniform can’t hide what you have you offer.”
“Th-thanks.” He’s either going to hide behind the serving tray or ask this guy to take him home and he’s not sure which will reinforce Jame’s “puppy dog” taunt more.
The other man, sensing his discomfort, steps back, “Sorry, that was inappropriate. I know better than to flirt with someone who’s at work and can’t escape. I shouldn’t keep you from doing what you need to do.”
“I get off at nine.” He thwacks the tray over his mouth, “ow. Uh, and I don’t mind talking to you. If you want to. I, uh, I don’t want you to feel like you have to spend this whole party chatting with the help instead of having fun.”
A sigh, “I should go mingle. It’s really okay if I come back?”
“Yeah.” Barclay smiles. There’s no way this guy is coming back; if he’s here single, he’ll have a date in the next five minutes. 
Fifteen minutes later, he’s standing a respectful distance away and asking Barclay how this compares to other parties he’s worked.  
“Middle-ground. It’s not the one time I got to work my friends art gallery opening, and it’s not the wedding where someone tried to deck the bride with the chocolate fountain.”
“Oh my lord.” 
“I was in the line of fire and was washing chocolate out of my beard for an hour.”
“No one at home to do it for you?” It’s not subtle, and nor is the glance he gets over the rim of a cocktail glass. 
“Some things I’d rather not ask Mama’s help on.” 
“You still live with family?” There’s no judgement in that smooth voice, just genuine curiosity.
“Oh, no, Mama’s my...I mean she’s technically my boss but she’s also my friend, almost like an older sister. I live above where I work because she owns the whole building and takes in staff rent-free when she can. It’s nice working at her place, since I can cut my hours doing this.” He gestures to the nearby table of season fare, “which does mean I missed the attempted kabob-maiming last week. Relatedly, I’m happy this isn’t an all you can drink party.”
“You and me both. Two years ago Dean Koontz threw a punch. I think it was--oh, um, excuse me, work calls.”
This time, Barclay allows himself a moment of ogling as Stern walks away.
They pick up where they left off when the other man comes back, leading Barclay to mention he’s a cook at Amnesty Lodge .
“Wait, really? I love the Lodge, the food there is incredible.”
Barclay’s skin matches his terrible red pants, “Thanks. The head chef has been letting me do more of the menu and I’m really proud of it.”
“You should be. It’s perfect, although it’s a pity you being in the kitchen means I haven’t seen you sooner.”
He tries to say thank you again, but it comes out a garbled squeak
“Was that too far?”  
“Nope. Uh, it’s uh, just that I’m out of practice flirting or, like, getting compliments. They were pretty thin on the ground in my last relationship.”
“I see.” He’s learning to watch Stern’s eyes rather than the rest of his face, which hardly ever changes from it’s calm, professional set. Said eyes drip with disapproval. 
Old habits of defending people--even ones who are dicks to him--kicks in, “I mean, he kind of has a point. No one wants to date a six foot puppy. Guys like me are supposed to be all in-charge and shit like that.”
Stern raises an eyebrow, “maybe you’re looking in the wrong places.”
“Got any ideas on where I, uh, should be looking?” He takes a half-step towards Stern, standing up straighter. Stern doesn’t move an inch, but gives him a proud smirk. The pride is directed at Barclay.
“Lots. And I’ll share them as soon as you’re off the clock.”
“Don’t I even get a hint?” Another step.
“No, Barclay, you don’t. You’ll just have to show me you can be patient.” His tone changes, laced with the promise of a hidden prize that Barclay will do anything to earn. 
He just manages to whisper out “okay” as Stern is called away again. When he comes back, Barclay setting out clean plates and more silverware. They talk about restaurants, about Barclay’s friends and all the ways he tries to help them. Barclay endeavors to not go into full begging mode in public by looking at Sterns wrists rather than literally anywhere else on his body.
“What are those things in your cufflinks?”
“The Hodag. It’s a cryptid from Northern Wisconsin, and a really excellent example of completely fabricated cryptid that nevertheless goes on to have a life of it’s own. It’s very common in small towns, since if it goes well it acts a tourist draw. In fact, there’s some indication that even the Loch Ness Monster began as just such a hoax and-” He snaps his mouth shut, clears his throat, “sorry, I try not to talk shop at these things. It, um, tends to get on people’s nerves.”
“But I wanted to hear the rest. I mean, I have a high info-dumping tolerance because of one of my friends, but also you clearly know your stuff and I have no clue about any of it so please keep talking?”
Stern’s face is full of excitement, and he grows more animated as he talks. It’s the cutest goddamn thing Barclay’s ever seen, and he saw Dr. Harris Bonkers, his friend’s rabbit, as a baby bunny in a bow-tie. 
He clocks out two minutes after nine, and Stern is waiting for him near the doors to the staging room. 
“Are those the only clothes you have with you?”
“No. I have nicer stuff in the car that I planned on wearing.”
“Go get it. Here, I’ll walk down with you so you won’t have trouble getting back in the building.”
After jogging to his car while Stern waits for him in the gold and silver tinseled lobby, the older man guides him to an elevator. He’s pretty sure Stern is older than him; he’s a big deal, but not in some sort of prodigy way, which means he needed some time to get so well-known. 
They’re so busy coming up with Cryptid-themed ice cream flavors that Barclay doesn’t notice the floor number until they step out into a darkened hall.
If Stern brought him up here so they could have a quick fuck, he’ll jump for joy. 
“My office is this way. I figure you might like changing not in front of your co-workers or in a bathroom.”
Damn it, why does he have to be considerate instead of horny?
The office Stern brings him to is modestly sized with a huge bank of windows on the one side, facing out over the city. From here he can see apartments, stores, restaurants, all lit up in festive colors, trees dotting the little boxes of light. 
Stern locks the door, leans back against it, and nods at the clothes in Barclays arms, “Put them on.”
“Here?” He eyes the wide windows, the fact that the other man makes no move to leave or turn around.
“Yes.”
He manages, around the heart trying to hammer up his throat, “Are, uh, are you gonna watch?”
“Do you want me too?” There it is, the immediate softness in his voice, and Barclay understands that if he says no, he’ll have his privacy.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He reaches for the vest, gets the first button and goes for the second in a hurry. 
Stern raises his hand in a ‘pause’ gesture, “Slow down.”
“Yes, yes Mr. Stern.”
A gentle laugh, “Not quite, big guy. Were we anywhere else, I’d tell you to call me Joseph. But here..” he tucks his hands casually into his front pockets, “here you call me sir.”
“Fuck”  Barclay battles himself to keep his pace slow, needing to be good but also so turned on he’s afraid he’ll start humping the furniture. He forces himself to wait a count of two between each button, gets his vest and shirt off without further instruction. Stern watches him the entire time in silent appreciation. His shoes and pants are more awkward to take off while standing, and he braces himself on the desk, not wanting to sit without permission. 
Then he’s standing there in nothing but his black boxers and the lights of town, laughter floating from the party while Stern studies him like a menu. 
“Fold every and set it on the chair.” 
He follows orders, boggles at getting hard from someone telling him to fold laundry. Jesus, Stern hasn’t even touched him. Is he even planning to? Barclay can’t decide which option he likes better. He returns to his spot in front of the desk, hands folded in front of him. 
“Should I, uh, get dressed, sir?”
Stern pushes off the door, walking casually over like a shopper regarding a display, “That depends; do you want to do back to the party with your cock hard enough to hammer nails?”  He glances down, then back up with a pointed stare. 
“N-not really.”
Stern raises an eyebrow. 
“Not really, sir.”
“Then we’ll have to do something about it.”
“Are you sure we should do it here?”
“Barclay, if we get caught, I’ll be twice as mortified as you. I’m only doing this because we’ve got this whole floor to ourselves.” He cups Barclay’s cheek and the sighs, rubbing his face against a warm palm. 
“Okay sir, I trust you.”
A moan curls up between them as Stern’s other hand runs along his chest.
“Good boy. You like to be good, don’t you, Barclay? You like taking care of people?” 
“Yes, so much sir, please, lemme be good to you.”
Joseph strokes his face, “That’s very thoughtful, Barclay. But I think it’s been awhile since someone took care of you. Would you like me to do that?”
“Please, sir.” The response is pulled from him, one of the many parts of him aching magnetically to be near to Stern. 
The other man shoves his right hand down Barclays boxers, sliding his thumb over the head once before stroking steadily up and down. 
“Holy fuck” Stern gasps, “a guy could have a lot of fun with this thing.”
“It’s all yours, sir.” 
Fuck, where did that come from?
Stern groans, tips his head to kiss across Barclays chest, murmuring as he does, “Is that what you want, Barclay? You want this” he speeds up until Barclay’s hands fly to the edge of the desk, keeping him from dropping to the floor, “to be mine?”
He whines, nodding.
Stern’s hand stops.
“Yessir”
It starts up again, “what else do you want, big guy?” He’s still kissing all over his upper body, tone nonchalant.
“You, sir, I wanna fuck you or, or you can fuUUUck me if you want, not very good at bottoming-”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Stern lightly pinches his nipple, “what else?”
“I want to blow you, and, and FUCK, I bet you’re a fucking great kisser and I want you to fucking boss me around as much as you want, wanna wear a collar, a blue one, ohfuck” Barclay scrapes his nails along the woodgrain, “fuck, sorry, that was weird-”
“No, say more” his grip tightens and to Barclay’s surprise he’s panting, “tell me everything you want, even it’s got nothing to do with sex.”
“I want, fuck, to be tied up and told how good I am, want to wear something stealth sexy out in public, want to fuck in a cabin” his mouth is fully ahead of his mind, which is concentrated entirely in his dick right now, “want to eat at every five star place in the city, want to drag you places by that fancy tie, have a new car, buy any cookbook I see, I want, oh fuckohfuck, sir, I wanna cum please, want to so bad.”
“You can cum whenever you like, big guy. But you have to kiss me while you d-” 
He cuts Stern off with a kiss, clinging to his shoulders and pouring desperate, deep sounds down his throat. Stern kisses back with precision and a pleased moan when Barclay cums in his boxers. 
Stern eases his hand out and Barclay flops against him, face buried in his neck as he rumbles out a thank you. 
“D-do you want me to blow you, sir?”
Stern kisses below his ear, “Yes, but that’s not doable right now. Unlike you, I don't have a change of clothes, and something tells me you’re a, um,” he bites Barclays ear, “messy eater.”
“Only when I’m enjoying myself, sir.” 
“You don’t have to keep calling me that, unless it helps you come down.”
“I’m okay, Joseph. Heh” he smiles, inhales a minty cologne, “I like that name. It’s classic.”
“Thanks, I picked it myself.”
Barclay chuckles, snuggles closer while ignoring the sticky underwear. 
“You know, I can give you everything you want. If you want me to.”
“Some of those are really fucking expensive, babe.”
“You really have no clue who I am, do you?” Stern steps back, moving to the other side of the desk and pulling out a packet of wet-wipes, sliding one across to Barclay before cleaning his hands.
“A really cute guy who should let me take him to dinner?” Barclay pulls down his underwear to clean the cum from his stomach.
“Ever heard of Lucky Park?”
“No fucking way. I man, I know it’s a pen name, but there’s no fucking way, a guy who’s never off the NYT Bestseller list wouldn't fuck a nobody cook.”
“If the cook was hot and interesting to talk to he would. The kitchen skills help a little.” Stern winks
“But you wrote The Peregrine Quintent,  and Red Dust, jesus christ your stuff has been movies.”
“Now you see why James was so startled; I’m Penguins golden goose. That’s why I even have time to write books on cryptids; they know to indulge me. Plus I put out at least a book every two years for them and it always makes a fortune. Do you need to sit down? You look kind of lightheaded.”
“I’m fine, uh, just trying to make sense of it all. Also I can’t sit down unless you want my bare ass on your chair.”
“Another time. I guess you’re going commando for the rest of the party, but I think you can handle it, big guy.”
“Yeah, absolutely.” He grabs his pants and pulls them on, “holy fuck, this can’t be real, it doesn’t make sense.”
“Barclay” Stern touches his arm, “it absolutely makes sense. I had so much fun talking with you, you’re such a, um, a sweetheart. And you’re built like a wet dream. If, um, if this is too much too soon, tell me to back off but I, I’m serious. I can’t remember the last time I got butterflies like this around someone, or wanted to buy things or do things just to make them smile. You clearly look after so many people in your life; will you let me look after you, at least for a little while?”
“You really want to?”
“Unlike some people, I like big men with a gentle center. You can be my six foot puppy any time. Wait, hold on, that, um, that came out weird.” Stern giggles and Barclay, now dressed, pulls him into a kiss. 
“I get it, babe. You wanna go show me off?”
“Of course. I’ll get my camera ready; we have to record your exes reaction.” Stern kisses his cheek, “after all, maybe this will teach him to know a good man when he sees one.”
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emsartwork · 4 years
Note
this might be kind of a long ask I'm sorry! (I really love your work btw) but you know how you did the personality run down for the winx girls as well as their negative traits, I was wondering if you could do that for the specialists? (I really love your versions of them — their personalities are so nonexistent in canon)
Sure! I love giving the boys more personality lol i kind of ended up talking about their mental state as opposed to their flaws but like. ur flaws are reflective of ur mental state so. idk.
 long post sry
SKY: Sky didn’t have a good sense of how the world works before going to Red Fountain (to be fair he was aware of this which is partly why he wanted to go in the first place). His childhood was strict but coddling, he wasn’t allowed to make his own choices but he had everything he could ever need provided for him. So adjusting to real life that first year in school was ROUGH. He had his ass handed to him several times for being a royal prick and couldn’t even really do anything about it because of the identity swap. Fortunately, this did nip the worst of his ego in the bud. He has a tendency to exert his control over others as a way to sooth his own anxiety/bitterness about being controlled himself. He did this especially with Bloom in the beginning of their relationship, but got a talking to from both Stella and Brandon and knocked that shit off (with the help of therapy) This issue came up again after the season 3 disaster with Diaspro and he spends a lot of secret of the lost kingdom and magical adventure working through that before season 4 puts them on earth.
BRANDON: tbh Brandon is one of the most well adjusted characters here. He has a good relationship with his parents and a strong sense of self. It helped that he had the freedom to pursue his own interests in a safe and stable environment and that his parents feel strongly about mental health issues, having first hand experience dealing with trauma in themselves and others. Brandon is the mom friend and sometimes takes on too much responsibility for his friends’ emotional states and becomes preoccupied with fixing their problems for them. In the process of officially becoming Sky’s guard/companion in his late teens he was forced to learn to set boundaries a little better. Brandon is literally always trying to get the other guys to take advantage of the fact that Red Fountain has an on campus counseling office but they’re like “nooooooo my unheathy coping mechanisms are fine” meanwhile after every winx mission Brandon roller blades into the office with an ice coffee like “what is UP I have new trauma”
TIMMY: so Timmy was raised on an asteroid colony, and had a fairly unstable childhood just because of that environment, his mom loves and provides for him as much as humanly possible so his emotional attachments are pretty secure, but he does have issues with permanence. if something is lasting a long time (whether good or bad) he starts to get antsy and suspicious, and sometimes ends up self sabotaging by poking at the thing when he should just leave it alone. He also has some hoarding tendencies due to his childhood. Timmy also hates feeling like a burden, and doesn’t take advantage of some of the opportunities ( at Red Fountain because he feels like he doesn’t deserve them. 
HELIA: helia baby stop repressing your emotions and desires to fit into other people’s definition of success its not good for u. So Helia is a quiet person by nature, but also struggles with dissociating in order to avoid anything unpleasant or difficult. This is mostly seen by pursuing both magic and warrior training for his dads’ sake, even though all he wants to do is paint shit and write poetry. His dads would ultimately be supportive but Helia is terrified of failure lmao, and lacks the confidence to actually express his needs but also can’t pursue what he really wants because WHAT IF IT DOESN’T WORK OUT. he will also use the silent treatment/cold shoulder as a way to hurt people if he’s mad at them.  
NABU: ok like on the surface Nabu is doing pretty well. He’s got his shit together. He knows exactly what to say and how to say it. But the boy is also a mess. He does repair some of his relationship with his parents after he and Aisha officially get together, but is still super angry at them for treating him like an achievement/trophy and then essentially tossing him away when he became inconvenient. Nabu also has a tendency to be secretive and a little manipulative, secretive because it was a way to get back at his parents as a child and manipulative because he was raised to basically be a politician and doesn’t like conflict so he’ll just mess with situations and people until it’s what he wants. These aren’t big problems while he’s doing his own solo thing but Aisha is not down with this and is basically like “take steps to fix it or leave” and joining as an unofficial member of the specialist’s rescue team forces him to do some self evaluation and improvement. 
NEX: Nex is another one with good parental relationships, his issues primarily stem from his competitiveness and impulsiveness. He also holds grudges pretty badly, Thoren is helping him to work through stuff like that internally instead of taking it out on the target. His impulsiveness has gotten him into A LOT of trouble, he basically has no filter which can be fine but also he needs to shut tf  and read the room sometimes. He really wants to do a good job as a paladin but does worry he’s not gonna succeed (mostly because he’s comparing himself to Thoren which really isn’t fair lol). He and Aisha are both impulsive, and try really hard to keep each other in check(as a mutual thing) but sometimes they just end up bouncing off each other until its complete chaos. (ok my version of Nex is basically just a himbo i honestly don’t know how this happened help)  
RIVEN: yikes, ok riven has issues. At his core, Riven is terrified of abandonment, and deals with this by keeping everyone around him at arms(or farther) length so they CAN’T abandon him. This can include, ignoring, insulting, avoiding, and flat out rejecting any offer of friendship or affection. He’s also fairly defensive, and is constantly trying to “prove himself”, which great, push yourself and improve, but also you have an ideal you can never actually live up to which just leaves you feeling shittier than before so stop that. Riven also has... some ptsd? trauma. And has some trigger phrases based on the spells Darcy used to control him. In season 1 Brandon had almost convinced him to go to therapy just for his attitude and to mesh with the team better, but the whole thing with Darcy happened and he shut himself off to any perceived outside threats until around the beginning of season 3 when he started attending sessions with the Red Fountain counselor.  
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percabeth4life · 4 years
Text
Grover Unexpectedly Loses His Pants
First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || AO3
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Naturally I ditched Grover as soon as we got to the bus terminal.
I know its rude, but I’m still nowhere near able to trust him. I’m getting really mixed signals from him.
Ugh, I wish I could talk to Triton. He’d know what to do.
I fingered my bracelet and caught a taxi uptown.
“East One-hundred-and-fourth and First,” I told the driver.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
Now, everyone of course knows how amazing my mom is.
Her name is Sally Jackson and she’s had a sucky life, but she deserves the world.
She’s really the best person I know and an amazing mom, even if she’s a little overprotective of me.
Her parents died in a plane crash when she was five, and she was raised by an uncle who didn’t care much about her. She wanted to be a novelist, so she spent high school working to save enough money for a college with a good creative-writing program. Then her uncle got cancer, and she quite school her senior year to take care of him. After he died, she was left with no money, no family, and no diploma.
The only good break she’s gotten was meeting my dad, probably Oceanus.
She won’t tell me about him, and I don’t have any memories of him except for the dreams I’ve had of being in his palace. My mom doesn’t like to talk about him cause it makes her sad. She has no pictures too.
They obviously weren’t married, Oceanus has Tethys, and Tethys is really nice, so I can see why he wouldn’t want to leave her. But I can’t understand why he would cheat on her with my mom. Unless Tethys was okay with it? Immortals don’t make any sense.
Mom just tells me that he’s rich and important, so their relationship was a secret. Then one day, he set sail across the Atlantic on some important journey, and he never came back.
Of course, Oceanus is a sea king. He’s extremely busy. And has a bunch of kids, even if most are fully grown and immortal. Of course, he can’t visit. That doesn’t make it hurt any less.
The myths speak highly of him from what I can find, and he was nice when I was there. I still wish that I had a dad here though, then mom wouldn’t need to marry Smelly Gabe.
She’s raised me all alone, taking odd jobs and taking night classes to get her high school diploma. She never ever complained or got mad, not even once. I know I’m not an easy kid, but she’s amazing.
I did my best to ignore the faint buzzing tugging at me and walking into the apartment.
Unfortunately, mom was not home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe was in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blared ESPN. Chips and beer cans were strewn all over the carpet.
Hardly looking up, he said around his cigar, “So, you’re home.”
“Where’s my mom?”
“Working,” he said. “You got any cash?”
His greeting wasn’t a surprise, that was his usual response.
Looking at him I could see he’s gained weight. He has like three hairs on his head instead of the previous five, and all are combed over his bald scalp. As if that could make up for the rest of his ugly.
He manages the Electronics Mega-Mart in Queens, supposedly. I have no idea how he hasn’t been fired previously, seeing how he’s never gone into work as far as I know.
All he does is collect paychecks, spend money on cigars that made me nauseous, and buy enough beer to drown in. Whenever I’m home I’m expected to fund his gambling. Thankfully the river has lots of money so all I have to do is give him a little and that covers it.
The few times I’ve refused… Well let’s just say it’s a good thing I have healing in water.
“Here,” I grumbled, tossing a five at him, “I hope you lose.”
He sneered as I stalked out, “Your report card came, brain boy!” He shouted, “I wouldn’t act so snooty!”
Jerk.
I slammed the door to my room, which currently smelled like cigars and beer.
Gross.
Gabe was using it as his “study” while I was at boarding school. All the more reason to never go to another ever again.
I pulled Carl, in his newly adapted portable fish tank, from my enchanted back and settled it (and him) on the desk.
He swam in circles happily, until he noticed the mess. Then he grumbled about Gabe.
Honestly the smell was almost worse then the feeling that those old ladies gave me, definitely worse than the nightmares I had about Ms. Dodds. She’s okay now after all.
I shuffled, scratching at my arms, the feeling from the old ladies itching at me, my breathing sped up.
“Percy?” My mom called.
She opened the bedroom door and suddenly everything felt better.
She can make me feel good just by being there, it’s always been like that.
Her and Triton are safe places, I know I’m okay when I’m with them. Nothing could ever go wrong around them.
Her eyes sparkle and change in the light, her smile is as warm as a quilt, she’s got a few gray streaks mixed in with her long brown hair, but I never think of her as any where near old. Whenever she looks at me it’s like she sees all the good, all the things that make her proud, she never sees the bad. I’ve never heard her raise her voice or say an unkind word to anyone, not even when I was younger or to Gabe.
“Oh, Percy,” She hugged me tight. “I can’t believe it. You’ve grown since Christmas!”
I blinked, had I? My clothes from Triton fit the same. Though, my normal clothes were a little tight…
“And your hair is so long now, we’ll have to cut it later.”
I touched my hair.
“Oh and it’s still so blue, it looks nice.”
I smiled.
Mom looked well though. Her red-white-and-blue Sweet on America uniform smelled like the best things in the world: chocolate, licorice, and all the other stuff she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central. She’d brought me a huge bag of “free samples” it looked like, just like she always did when I finished school, or like she did when I came home for winter break.
“Sit,” she tugged me to sit beside her on the bed now, before starting to question me.
We sat together on the edge of the bed. I attacked a thing of blueberry sour strings and she ran her hand through my hair demanding to know everything that had happened to me while I was away for the last few months that hadn’t made it into my letters.
She didn’t mention me getting expelled, she didn’t seem to care. But was I okay? Was her little boy doing alright?
I leaned into her while laughingly saying she was smothering me. Her presence made everything so much better. I’m… I’m really, really glad to see her.
I blinked back tears, everything has just been so much I don’t know what to do.
From the other room, Gabe interrupted, “Hey Sally—how about some bean dip, huh?”
I gritted my teeth, I really just want to drown him.
My mom is the nicest person in the world. She should’ve been married to a millionaire, not some jerk like Gabe.
For her sake, I kept my last days at Yancy Academy happy. I told her I wasn’t down about the expulsion, I’d lasted longer than usual this time. I’d made a new friend (even if I ditched him now), and I’d done good in Latin and Pre-Calc. Honestly the fights hadn’t been anywhere near as bad as the headmaster said.
I put the best spin on the year that I could, pasting a smile on my face and keeping my voice light.
“Until the trip to the museum…”
“What?” my mom asked. Her eyes tugged at my conscience, trying to pull out the secrets. “Did something scare you?”
I couldn’t lie, not to her. But I also can’t tell her about Ms. Dodds.
“No Mom, just… Nancy pushed Grover and I lost control of my waterbending a little. It shoved Nancy into the fountain. But no one seemed to really notice!”
She pursed her lips. “But no one noticed?”
I nodded, “Yeah.” No one that could do anything at least.
She relaxed, “I have a surprise for you,” She said. “We’re going to the beach.”
My eyes widened. “Montauk?”
“Three nights—same cabin.”
“When?”
“As soon as I get changed.”
I was excited, we haven’t been able to go for the last two summers. Gabe said there wasn’t enough money, as if we didn’t get a massive discount because my grandmother had been close friends with the person that owns the land the cabin is on. I doubt we’d be able to afford it if we didn’t have that discount, but we did so there.
Gabe appeared in the doorway and growled, “Bean dip, Sally? Didn’t you hear me?”
I wanted to punch him, or better yet, drown him. But I met my mom’s eyes and I understood the deal she was offering me: be nice to Gabe for a little while. Just until she was ready to leave for Montauk. Then we would get out of here.
“I was on my way, honey,” she smiled at Gabe. “We were just talking about the trip.”
His eyes narrowed, “The trip? You mean you were serious about that?”
I bit my tongue to keep from snarling at him. Mom wouldn’t let him stop us, she never broke her promises and she’s probably already paid. If I snap now, then he might try to stop us out of spite.
I just glared.
“Of course, I’m serious,” Mom said evenly, “You won’t have to worry about money. And besides,” she added, “You won’t have to settle for just bean dip. I’m going to make enough seven-layer dip for the whole weekend. Guacamole. Sour cream. The works.”
He softened a bit. “So this money for your trip… it comes out of your clothes budget, right?”
“Yes, honey” she said.
I made a mental note to use some of the money I have hidden in my magic bag to buy her something nice to wear.
“And you won’t take my car anywhere but there and back.”
“We’ll be very careful.”
Gabe scratched his double chin. “Maybe if you hurry with that seven-layer dip… And maybe if the kid apologizes for interrupting my poker game.”
Maybe if I kick you in your soft spot and see how long you can hold your breath under water, I thought.
But mom’s eyes warned me to not make him mad.
I wanted to scream, I can’t understand why she puts up with this guy.
I put on my princely face just like Triton taught me and turned to him, “I’m sorry. I’m really horribly sorry for interrupting your incredibly important poker game. Please go back to it right now, don’t let us keep you from it.”
Gabe’s eyes narrowed, probably trying to use his jellyfish sized brain to look for sarcasm.
“Yeah, whatever.” He decided.
He went back to his game.
“Thank you, Percy,” my mom said. “Once we get to Montauk, we’ll talk more about… everything.”
For a second, I saw a fear in her eyes, the same kind that I saw in Grover’s. A nervousness, as if my mom could feel the buzzing too.
But then she smiled again, and I could almost believe I’d imagined it.
But the image didn’t leave my mind.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
We were all ready to leave, I didn’t bother to unpack my bags, just put Carl’s magic portable fish tank back in my magic bag. I don’t trust Gabe to not mess with my stuff so I’m just bringing it all with me (except my school books). My magic bag holds all of the important things, my books from Triton and my friends, all their gifts, and a few changes of extra clothes (the nice ones from Triton and one pair of normal mortal clothes).
Gabe took a break from his poker game long enough to watch me lug my mom’s bags to the car, griping the whole time about losing her cooking—and more importantly, his ’78 Camaro—for the whole weekend.
“Not a scratch on this car, brain boy,” he warned me as I loaded the last bag. “Not one little scratch.”
I rolled my eyes out of his sight. Obviously, I was planning to drive the whole way, I’m already twelve, might as well get the practice in. I snorted.
I watched him lumber back towards the apartment building. I felt the well of anger in me, just needing a release somehow, and I did the same symbol that Grover did before, only this time I channeled a bit of my power into it, just like I do purification powers.
The screen door slammed shut so hard it whacked him in the butt and sent him flying up the suitcase as if he’d been shot from a cannon. I hid a smile and got in the Camaro, telling my mom to step on it.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
The rental cabin is on the south shore, way out at the tip of Long Island. It’s a little pastel box with faded curtains, half sunken into the dunes. There’s always sand in the sheets and spiders in the cabinets, most of the time the sea is too cold to be considered swimmable.
I love the place.
We’ve been going here forever, since before I was born even. My mom met my dad here, even if she never told me I know that’s why it’s so special to her.
It’s special to me because it’s where I waterbended for the first time.
I smiled at the sea and could almost imagine it was welcoming me back.
My mom almost seems to grow younger as we get closer to the sea, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turned the color of the sea. They change color a lot, but this spot, here at the beach, is when they look the most like the ocean. I think it’s where they’re prettiest.
Sometimes I wonder if she has immortal blood in her somewhere, it almost seems like it with how she changes based on the place.
We arrived at sunset, opened all the cabin’s windows, and went through our usual cleaning routine. We walked on the beach, fed blue corn chips to the seagulls, and munched on blue jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples my mom had brought from work. I left Carl’s portable tank in the bag for now, I’d pull him out tomorrow (though I did remember to feed him).
When it finally got dark, we made a fire.
We roasted hot dogs and marshmallows. Mom told me stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents died in the plane crash.
She told me about how her dad was so very handsome, she’d inherited his eyes, and how her mom had eyes the color of seafoam and had loved the sea just as much as my mom does.
She told me about all the books she wants to write someday, I really want to read them too. Fantasy books are more fun to me, if there’s audio books of her books I’m definitely reading (listening to) them.
Eventually I pulled together the nerve to ask about my dad, maybe she’ll say something new, something that would help me be sure that Oceanus is my dad. I’m almost positive of it but… but a little more confirmation wouldn’t hurt.
I mean though, who else would be a danger for me, even at the camp, to have as a parent? I would think Poseidon, but the myths are filled with his kids. He wouldn't be a danger as a dad at all. So it has to be Oceanus, he's the only one strong enough that would also be someone the gods might not like.
“He was kind, Percy,” she murmured. “Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle too. You have… had,” she gave a small laugh as she glanced at my blue hair, “His black hair, and his green eyes. Yours is a bit longer than his though.” She ran a hand through my hair.
Mom fished a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. “I wish he could see you, Percy. He would be so proud.”
I wondered if he would. In terms of sea magic, he might, I know Triton is proud. He tells me he is, that he’s very pleased with how far I’ve come. Oceanus might be pleased with me by sea standards, but would he agree with Triton that land lessons are dumb and shouldn’t count? Or would he see me, a dyslexic, hyperactive boy with at D+ report card, kicked out of school for the sixth time in six years and be ashamed.
“How old was I?” I asked. “I mean… when he left?”
Does he just not recognize me?
She watched the flames, “He was only with me for the summer and a little into the fall Percy. Just the one short time. Right here at this beach. This cabin.”
I blinked, I swear I have a memory of a smile, something…
“But… he knew me as a baby?”
He had to… right?
“No, honey. He knew I was expecting a baby, but he never saw you. He had to leave before you were born.”
My heart sank, but also lightened.
If Oceanus had never seen me then I suppose it makes sense that he couldn’t recognize me, even if he could tell that I was something familiar to him based on his comment in my dreams.
“I sense my power on you, you’ve interacted with something of mine.”
Was he recognizing me? Did he not expect me there and assumed I was someone else that had met… me?
I’m not sure but… I was still sad.a
He obviously has his duties as a king, Triton is so busy as a prince being a king must be so much worse, but still. He couldn’t even come to check on mom?
The ancient laws that Zeus made wouldn’t apply to a Titan, would they?
I only know the basics of these laws but…
“Are you going to send me away again?” I asked mom now. “To another boarding school?”
She pulled a marshmallow from the fire.
“I don’t know, honey,” Her voice was heavy. “I think… I think we’ll have to do something.”
Does she not want me around? I just… I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to leave again.
“Are you… are you sending me away because you don’t want me around?” I whispered.
My mom’s eyes welled with tears. She took my hand, squeezing it tight. “Oh, Percy, no. I—I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away.”
But why.
“Because I’m not normal? Because… Because I can waterbend?���
“Oh, oh Percy, you not being normal isn’t a bad thing. And your waterbending is wonderful. I just, I just want you safe. I thought Yancy Academy was far enough away, I thought you’d be finally be safe.”
Safe from what? The monsters? Does… does mom know.
I’ve been assuming she didn’t, but maybe that was dumb.
Does she know? Know who dad is? Know what I am? Does she know about the myths?
“Safe from what mom?”
She stared at me for a long moment…
“I’ve tried to keep you as close to me as I could,” My mom said. “They told me that was a mistake. But there’s only one other option, Percy—the place your father wanted to send you. And I just… I just can’t stand to do it.”
I frowned, Oceanus wanted me to go someplace special?
“He wanted me to go to a special school?”
“Not a school,” She said softly. “A summer camp.”
Camp Half-Blood. Grover had a card for it.
Triton told me about it, though not the name, the camp for Half-Bloods, half immortal, half mortal.
That had to be what mom is talking about.
“I’m sorry, Percy,” She said, her voice breaking. “But I can’t talk about it. I—I couldn’t send you to that place. It might mean saying goodbye to you for good.”
I frowned, Triton didn’t tell me much about the camp, but for good?
“For good?”
She turned towards the fire, and I knew from her expression that if I asked her any more questions she would start to cry.
OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO
I stood on the beach, a storm raging overhead.
I know that I fell asleep, that I was in the bed in the cabin. But now I’m on the beach.
Another one of my dreams? It’s not someplace familiar.
There were two beautiful animals, a white horse and a golden eagle, trying to kill each other at the edge of the surf.
The eagle swooped down and slashed the horse’s muzzle with its huge talons. The horse reared up and kicked at the eagle’s wings.
A low, familiar, chuckle rumbled from beneath the earth. The chuckle from the pit. I could hear whispered goading, urging the two animals to fight harder. The ground rumbled. Sand curled around me. Salt rubbed at my skin, lightning sparked over me.
None of it was there, but the sensations were clear.
I moved toward them, they shouldn’t fight!
“Stop it!” I called, “Stop it Mr. Pit Guy. Stop!”
I was moving so slow, like time was slower for me than for them.
The voice laughed again. “Stand away little Half-Blood,” It crooned. “Let them fight, do not interfere.”
I reached out as the eagle dive down, its beak aimed at the horse’s wide eyes.
I screamed.
I woke up.
For once there was no peaceful sunlight to wake from my dream to, a storm raged outside. Lightning crashed, the wind howled, the waves pounded the dunes.
There was no horse or eagle fighting.
With the next thunderclap, my mom woke. She sat up, eyes wide, and said, “Hurricane.”
It’s crazy, Long Island never sees hurricanes this early in the summer.
But the ocean was like salt rubbing into my skin, rough and course, like there’s an open wound. The lightning was crackling across my skin. My senses are on fire. This was no ordinary storm. And it’s a very bad one.
Over the roar of the wind, I heard a distant bellow, an angry, tortured sound that made my already frayed nerves worse.
Then much closer, another noise, like mallets in the sand. A desperate voice—someone yelling, pounding on our cabin door.
My mom sprang out of bed in her nightgown and threw open the lock.
Grover stood framed in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain. But he wasn’t quite the Grover I knew, or… now he was showing the Grover I’d been suspicious of all year.
“Searching all night,” he gasped.
Creepy.
“What were you thinking?”
Obviously that you were out to get me?
My mom looked at me in terror though—she wasn’t scared of Grover, that much was clear. She was scared of why he was here.
“Percy,” she shouted over the storm. “What happened at school? What didn’t you tell me?”
Where should I start!? Why did it seem like I was in trouble? I’ve dealt with everything before! There was nothing really new!
“O Zeu kai alloi theoi!” Grover yelled. “It’s right behind me! Didn’t you tell her?”
Tell her what.  
Grover is standing there, a satyr, mom isn’t surprised at all, there’s a storm raging filled with so much blazing power that I’m shocked it didn’t wake me sooner, and no one seems to want to explain anything.
My mom turned to me though and talked in a tone she’d never used before: “Percy. Tell me now.”
I blurted out that Ms. Dodds had turned into a vampire bat lady and attacked me, my mom listening with a deathly pale face, visible in the flashes of lightning that scorched my skin with their power.
She grabbed her purse, tossed me my rain jacket, and said, “Get to the car. Both of you. Go!”
I grabbed my magic bag, and hurried to the car, following Grover.
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blanche--neige · 5 years
Text
The use of symbolic storytelling in Mr. Sunshine
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One of my favorite things about Mr. Sunshine is that it doesn’t simply have outstandingly beautiful cinematography, but on top of that it is so full of visual  storytelling and symbolism. There are so many powerful pictures that tell a story all of their own, so many small moments, gestures and phrases that form a beautiful pattern that lend greater meaning to almost every scene and give the overall impression that not a single word, action or shot is done without deeper meaning and purpose. 
There are countless outstanding moments in the show: the ending of the rooftop chase when we see the trees with red and yellow leaves in the background; when Eugene and Ae Shin cover each others faces with their hands or when Dong Mae touches Ae Shins skirt. Those are powerful pictures that stay with you for a long time, but what impresses me even more than those specific scenes and shots is how the show uses some of the more subtle moments to tell a completely nonverbal story that spans the whole show, by creating repetition and patterns (this is also used for the dialogue). 
One of the best examples of that concept is the language of touch between Ae Shin and Eugene and how every physical interaction between those two is not only filmed to showcase the power and importance physical contact can have (which is something that has become completely mundane nowadays) but also to mark a clear change in their relationship. Every time there is clear focus on their physical interaction, it is to showcase that their relationship has reached a new stage. The way the camera lingers on those moments is a clear indicator that there is far more going on than them simply touching (while in most cases, you simply have a kiss that is a turning point and indicates the beginning of romantic love and then afterwards it is just random moments of touches that showcase no deeper meaning than the obvious). Here, it is a great combination of subtext and symbolic storytelling (combined with spot on dialogue that indirectly conveys the same message, without ever directly telling it) which creates some form of visual language that comes into play every time they interact. 
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1.  “Shaking hands implies that one is not holding a weapon in them.” “When do we let go though?” “When you wish to wield a weapon.” 
While this scene shows Ae Shin accepting Eugenes offer of “doing love” together, sub-textually it is about them finding even ground and deciding to walk in the same direction, aka “not wielding a weapon against each other”. Since Ae Shin at this point doesn’t know the meaning of the word love and still thinks “love” is something comrades do together and Eugene only makes the offer under false pretense, this interaction is still platonic, as is reflected in the “business-like” handshake and overall stiff body language and dialogue. The symbolic meaning of a handshake, as explained by Eugene, also reflects that. There is no romantic intention in this handshake, but it is the first time they touch and the importance of that is strongly reflected in the way both of them react to this pivotal moment. It is not the start of their romantic relationship, but it is the beginning of their relationship as comrades. The music, editing and scenery give this still platonic interaction a romantic undertone, which reflects that subconsciously, both of them already have romantic feelings for each other. Other symbols used in this scene:  Flowing water: water and especially moving water is a symbol of change and often present at turning points. It represents the continuous natural flow of life ... Bridge: The bridge is a symbol of communication and union. It stands for progress and connection and most of all it represents transitions, a crossing over to start a new journey in life. The only other time the bridge is used as an important setting is when Eugene confronts the Potter and they break with each other. By then, the scenery has completely changed, the flowing water has turned to ice and the trees are bare.  Handshake: Forming of unions, offering of peace between people or nations who previously were at odds. 
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2.  “Today we shall take a step forward. Tell me. An introduction. A handshake. What should we do next?” “It is called a hug. You won’t be able to do it through.”
Unlike with their last physical interaction, at this point Ae Shin already learned the true meaning of the word love. Her asking Eugene what the next step is and later on initiating the hug herself is a sign of her accepting the offer in it’s true sense. At this point, she already trusts him enough to allow herself to show her affection in a physical way, which is contrasted by Eugenes inability to hug her back. The symbolic meaning behind this is clear: while his inability to hug her back also has to do with the social hierarchies, mainly it shows that even through Eugene has feelings for her, he isn’t yet able to show her the same trust she so blindly shows him. Indirectly, this stage of their relationship is reflected in the dialogue, with Ae Shin being the one who freely chooses to take the next step in their relationship, while Eugenes answer is clearly hesitant. 
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3. “But then I met a woman. She often made me waver. I knew you’d give me that look, if I told you my story. I knew, but it still hurts.”
So much symbolism going on in this scene, which is only fitting since it is the clear turning point for Ae Shin and probably the most (reluctantly) vulnerable moment for Eugene (it is the only time he puts into words what happend that day and how deep those emotional scars are still felt). In the beginning, we see them walking together side by side on the ice but at the end Ae Shin is walking alone (the ice under her feet making loud noises like something is breaking) leaving Eugene behind on his own. Eugenes words “I suppose we can no longer walk side by side” empathizes that their paths will diverge from here on. Until they start to mend their relationship again, we not once see them standing or walking side by side, only shots of them standing opposite each other.
Like with the bridge, the lake was only used once before in this manner, when they first had an open conversation on the boat, with the fresh and living water being a symbol of life and the fountain of paradise. Now it turned to ice, which represents death, coldness and the absence of love, a clear symbol for their relationship in that moment. Walking on a frozen river also gives a sense of fragility and uncertainty, which represents both their mental states. They are literally and metaphorically walking on thin ice with each other.   
The moment  Ae Shin is letting go of Eugenes hand symbolizes many things. First, we merely see her leaving, clearly shaken and without saying a single word. The ground under her feet makes loud noises and in the end she falls, empathizing that she can no longer walk the path she was following without stumbling (as referenced by Eugene on their next meeting when he says “I’d rather wish you not stumble again”). It is a visual representation of how Ae Shin is feeling in this moment. She may not say a thing, but Eugenes words have shaken her to her core and are a turning point for her. Only in this moment does she realize what Dong Mae really meant by accusing her of being a “noble fool” and learns to question herself for the first time.  Next we see Eugene offering her his hand (and thereby support) despite feeling deeply hurt and rejected. It shows how Eugene reacts in all of their interactions: no matter how much she hurts him, he will still show his support if she needs it, but never forcing it (his hand isn’t enclosing hers, giving her the chance to let go at any given moment).  Finally, it is Ae Shin who is letting go of his hand and thereby setting a clear end to their relationship, which is the main reason the the camera lingers so long on this moment. 
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Little side note: can I just say how genius it is that we see Eugene, and only Eugene, bathed in sunlight/light so often. This is one of the best examples, clearly showing that only Eugenes hand is touching the light (and since to Ae Shin, his character is representing a form of enlightenment, especially in this moment, it is really fitting).
Other symbols used in this scene: Ice/Winter:  coldness, absence of love, difficult and unexplored territory not conducive to human life and life in general, death Lake:  A lake represents emotions, innermost feelings, repressed feelings, self-contemplation as well as a chance for revelation (mirror of the self). 
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4. “In this world, differences certainly exist. Differences in power, differences in opinion, differences in status. But that’s not your fault, and neither is it mine. It’s just that we met in this kind of world.”
This is probably my favorite of symbolic storytelling in the whole show, because with so little it tells so much. What stands out here is that it is the only time they are touching hands while there is a physical barrier between them. This barrier are gloves, which embody “power and protection, as well as nobility". They are a very clear symbol of the class divide that at this point in their relationship is their biggest obstacle to overcome. What makes this even more pivotal is that it is Eugene who is putting his gloves on her hands. While on one hand this shows that Eugene still is concerned with protecting her, even while they are at odds with each other, it especially symbolizes that at this very moment he acknowledges her nobility and therefore that she is far above him and beyond his reach. Even more than Ae Shin, it is Eugene who (subconsciously) puts this barrier of social hierarchies between them, since at this point he is still unable to overcome his own feelings of inadequacy. With just this one simple gesture, it is shown that not only the nobles of Joseon still think in terms of social hierarchies, but that Eugene himself still isn't able to see that his own worth is not tied to his roots as a slave. This becomes even more evident when he is barely able to say the words "Differences in social status".  Him putting the gloves on her hands symbolizes at once his unwavering devotion, his submissiveness to her as the one who holds the power in their relationship and his willingness to harm himself (in this case his lack of protection from the cold) in order to secure her safety, which are all major themes that come into play in their relationship.
It is also the first time Eugene is letting go of her hand, with the words “You have to move forward. I will take a step back”, following, which also is referenced in a later scene (coming back to that later).
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5. “In Joseon and America as well, it was always like this. Always. People always said that I don’t belong to any of them.” “Your with me.”
When last Eugene actually took her hand in his, there was still a barrier between them but now in this moment, both of them are finally able to let go of all the social restrictions keeping them apart. The hug that follows, this time initiated by Eugene, is a direct callback to the first hug they shared, only this time it is Eugene who is finally able to trust Ae Shin enough to express his love for her in a physical way. Until this point, he was unable to initiate any form of (non-platonic) physical contact and was shown to be highly uncomfortable with it. Again this direct callback to a scene before get’s more noticeable by using the same location. It is the only time ever we see them together in the apothecary when both of them first initiate a hug to express acceptance of emotionally completely dedicating themselves to the other, .  The apothecary is also the setting in which they keep all their secrets away. Ae Shin uses it as a hideout for her rebel activities, their secret letters to each other are exchanged there and of course the turning points of their (secret) relationship take place here. In the cultural context of the time, hugging someone who is not your husband is strictly forbidden, so it is something they can only do in secret.  (Side note: Again with the reflection of the sunlight only on Eugenes side)
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6. "Is that why you asked if I can fish? So you could hold my hand?” “Your funny. No!” “Too bad then. Because it was the reason for me.”
We got many beautifully framed shots where the focus is on their hands, but this is actually the first time they are really holding hands in a “romantic” way. It isn’t that this moment of them touching set their relationship on a new path like the other ones did, but it is a follow up to their last interaction and showcases Eugenes growth in terms of their relationship and that he didn’t only hug Ae Shin because he was emotionally vulnerable in that moment. Grabbing her hand like that out in the open is a very bold move on his part and something he would never have done prior to the scene before (his forward and even a little cheeky words reflect that sentiment). Him taking off his jacket and even bearing his arms in front of her also shows that he lost his uprightness in her presence and is able to be more vulnerable with her. Now that both of them are on the same level, this is where their love really starts to bloom, which is shown in the clear flowing water surrounding them and the first plum blossoms starting to bloom. The start of spring, the season for love, hope, new beginnings and birth or rebirth of things.
Other symbols used in this scene: Blue sky: Blue sky represents freedom, happiness, hopefulness and the chance for endless possibilities.  
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7.  “What is your plan? You have only one bullet left” “As always, I only need one bullet.”
This one is hard. It’s almost impossible for me to describe all the things this one moment alone makes me feel. In terms of symbolism there is not as much going on as in some of the other moments, but it still left the biggest impact on me, mainly because of all the moments that came before. The way he desperately squeezes her hand and finally let’s go very reluctantly tells you just as much as the “one bullet” dialogue they had before (another great use of symbolic storytelling that uses a certain pattern. It isn’t the first time that Eugene uses the one bullet tactic, and every time it comes at a greater cost. This dialogue combined with this image already tells us everything we need to know).  Noteworthy of course is that we see them using the hands on which they wear their wedding rings. They also both have their pinky finger dyed in red. Back in the day it was custom for young girls to dye their nails in spring and if the color stayed until winter, they would marry their true love (which sadly didn’t happen for them. But it can be seen as a symbol of them intending to get married for real in the future/or alternatively that they accept each other as their spouse). Here we yet again have a direct callback to a prior scene: The only other time we see Eugene letting go of Ae Shins hands, he also said the words “You should move forward. I’m taking a step back.” Those words are repeated here as well, shortly after letting go of her hand for the last time. 
Of course there are other moments when they touch and all of those moments have their own meaning as well. But listing all of them here would probably be too much. Those are just the highlights and also the moments the show visually clearly shows us to be the most important ones. There are countless other moments of symbolic storytelling in the show. This extensive use of repetition, contrast  and patterns is used time and time again, whether it is the use of locations, objects, actions or other visual elements. Most notably, it is extremely often used for the dialogue as well. I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a style of dialogue that was so heavy on metaphors and symbolism. There are certain phrases used time and time again by all the leading characters. Sometimes the context is completely different to show contrast, sometimes it is the same context to build repetition and strengthen certain themes. When Ae Shin and Eugene talk to each other, they use their completely unique set of words, using an imaginary style that from their very first encounter to their last one contains phrases like “we seem to head in the same direction” (first encounter), “walking side by side”, “wherever you go, I will follow the same path” or “You should move forward. I will take a step back”(last encounter). This specific choice of words creates an image that has nothing to do with the kind of language normally used between lovers (those key words are also not used by the other characters) and reflects the nature of their relationship: comrades who deeply respect and cherish each other first, and lovers second.  The symbolsim of walls
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Walls, or metaphorically the wall also has a strong symbolic meaning in their relationship. Like the glove, it stands for the divide between two different groups of people. The first time we see that wall that is keeping them apart is when they are at odds with each other specifically because they don’t belong on the same side of the wall (for one because of their class divide, but also because Eugene still sees himself as American and not Korean. A Wall also represents the point where two nations are divided).
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The other times we see that kind of wall, it becomes a physical manifestation of their class divide. It is the wall belonging to Lord Go’s home. Here they talk to each other while being separated by a wall that in this context symbolizes that Ae Shin belongs to nobility (and therefore stands on the side of Lord Go’s residence) and Eugene belongs to those who are low born (on the street). In those instances they are also not allowed to talk freely to each other because social hierarchy dictates them to not show their feelings for each other in this setting. The wall becomes a physical reminder of that. This is where Ae Shins act of jumping over the wall to run after Eugene right after he got rejected by her Grandfather because of both his slave status and his American nationality becomes a far stronger meaning. It is in that moment that she finally decides to stand by his side, no matter if society want’s to dictate her otherwise. This is further empathized by Eugenes act of putting her shoe back on and beforehand intimately touching her foot (and her allowing him to do so). It is a clear sign from her side that social hierarchies don’t matter anymore, at least in the face of her grandfather. (In connection to Dong M. the term “jumping over a wall” is also used and at one time he jumps over the wall of the Go families residence, clearly showing yet again that he doesn’t let himself be restricted by social hierarchies, while Eugene is the one referred to “using the door”. That is one big difference between them. Eugene would never simply jump over the wall, because social hierarchies are still set in his thinking. He only crosses the line when openly invited in by the “other side”.)
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Here, when they are both in the palace, they still have to go by the rules society dictates to them. This is another moment where they are simply forbidden to show their feelings for each other and talk openly. In this scene it gets especially evident that in the eyes of society, they will never be on eye level. Ae Shin might have jumped over the wall of her grandfathers residence and thereby went against her grandfathers wish, but she still can’t openly stand by Eugenes side as long as she wants to live as nobility. Side note: Not really related to the wall symbolism, but Eugenes monologue (I don’t think he was ever as talkative as here lol) in this scene is so full of metaphors. When he says “These are plum flowers. The crest of the Korean royal family. I wish I could see this flower all year round. What a silly thought” it would be obvious that he was talking about Ae Shin even if we didn’t see him indirectly talking to her. Ae Shin is compared to a flower more than once. She was the one introducing Eugene to those flowers and there also is mention here of it being the crest of the royal family (so a sign of nobility). Even tho by now Ae Shin gave her heart to him completely and decided to not marry Hee Seung, Eugene still knows that it is a silly thought to hope they could see each other every day. The queens servant then answers: “What a shame. It blooms only in spring“. This is true as well. Spring time, so the time when those flowers bloom, was the only season during which they could see each other more freely and during which time their love was allowed to really bloom and where they completely committed to each other. So yes, sadly Eugene was only able to see those flowers (their relationship) bloom in spring. Everything before and after was a combination of great pain and a little happiness in between. (also it is quite funny and telling that Eugene is only able to sincerely tell Ae Shin that she is beautiful indirectly either by writing it in a letter or telling another woman how her beauty took him by surprise)
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And here finally, the most notable representation of the wall of Lord Go’s home symbolizing the power and nobility of the Go family. When Lee Wan Ik comes to destroy the Go residence, all that is shown on his side is the simple act of destroying one single wall to symbolize what will come in the future. This symbolic act alone brings Lord Go to his knees and is the indicator of his death. The destroyed wall is a physical manifestation of the downfall of the Go Family, something both Eugene and Dong Mae are deeply troubled by. (Eugenes voice over about the uncertainty of their future and the great pains that will come while looking at the remnants of that wall underlines that)
The use of the seasons Another noticeable thing is the extensive focus on the seasons. The way the seasons are visually tied into the cinematography for one (aside from being gorgeous to look at) makes it easy to get a feeling for the time span of the show. In most movies and shows (also in most books) I barely have any idea how much time passed from beginning to end. Here it’s almost hard not to notice that the story starts in autumn and slowly progresses over the span of more than a year.  The seasons are also used to reflect the progress and state of Eugene and Ae Shins relationship.
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This kind of symbolic storytelling gives great depth and at the same time heightens the re-watch value of the show immensely. By now I honestly lost count how often I watched some parts of the show and I still find new details and meaning almost every time. I probably learned more from analyzing all the different patterns in this show about symbolism and symbolic storytelling(and just storytelling in general) than from the 2 years I went to film school (which, aside from being a great compliment for the show, also shows how little the art of symbolism is valued nowadays if you barely learn anything about it even in film school...). The show also does a great job of making those elements accessible to a wider audience. Mr. Sunshine, no matter how deep and complex it’s themes and characters, is not an auteur or indie show, it is still “mainstream”. In a way, it’s like a huge budget blockbuster with mainstream appeal mixed with the kind of storytelling I mostly recognize from the old classics and the visual presentation from way back when movies were expressed more artfully and artistically than they are now. It’s always great if a book or movie/show is able to make more artistic or complex concepts accessible to a wider audience. That’s actually way harder than adapting those things for a smaller specific audience like more auteur movies/show like to do. Just because a show is made for a wider audience, doesn’t mean that it can’t have artistic value and complex and heavy concepts presented in a more symbolic than literal way.
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lightningcritter · 4 years
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Up Ladybug, got a goal, we’ll be fine some day, together
Hello @tbriddle! Thank you so much for your understanding, patience and kindness these past few months. It really meant a lot. This fic detailing two drabbles on the relationship of our favorite ladybug and cat is dedicated to you as a secret santa gift, I hope you enjoy it!
Also big thanks to @secret-pv-presents! It was a pleasure writing for such an amazing event and thank you so much for your kindness and patience. I hope you enjoy the read!
The title is a lyric from the original Ladybug PV.
Bridgette & Felix
“ALLEGRAAaaaAAA!!” Was all the warning the blonde got before being bombarded by Bridgette, who insisted on putting all of her weight in her hugs. Allegra laughs, stumbling a little under the sudden weight, but she is not one to be deterred as she hefts the smaller Asian girl onto her back. Without a delay in her steps, she continues walking.
“Noooooooooooooooo” Bridgette whines, wriggling to get off. “Okay, okay, we get it! You’re tall! Now let me down!!”
“Oh nonono. I don’t think so.” Allegra only laughs, blowing some of her bangs out of her face. “Careful, don’t want to fall in the fountain again.” 
“That was only once!” She exclaims, but ceases struggling. Not without puppy eyes, the best that Paris has ever seen. “Oh fine.” Her friend rolls her eyes, releasing Bridgette who cheers.
“By the way, have you heard?”
“Hm?” Bridgette hums. She has a pretty good idea what Allegra is going to tell her, but plays along. 
“Another man went missing.” Allegra exclaims as they round the corner, walking up a street. The absence of sun from the tall business building shadowing this street seemed to suck away the warmth from the sun. Bridgette finds herself gently rubbing her arms, feeling the goosebumps under her fingers.
“The fourth one in just two days! His name is Henry Bisset. But get this, people say that they saw another of those magicky pillars near where he was last seen. They think that maybe he made a deal with the devil.”
“Is it confirmed that the magick pillar and missing man are linked or is it just speculation?” Bridgette says, tugging on her backpack straps as she hops onto the stone staircase. She squints at the light that shines past some chimneys as they walk up. 
“Because he could be a victim of The Mime or that weird pigeon guy.” Bullsh*t. Bridgette, or rather Ladybug, knows that the pillar of magic only appeared when the man in white corrupted a person. She saw it happen in front of her eyes as the man in white transformed a distraught father into his most dangerous subordinate, the Mime. That incident, the outstretched fingers of the man who whispered ‘help me’ before being overtaken by the pillar of light, is one she will never forget. “Like a hostage situation or something.”
“Like he might be linked to Ladybug and Chat Noir?” Allegra inquires. In that thoughtful tone of hers like she might do some investigating or something, which is dangerous especially since she is the very competent heir of the Golden Musician magic- Bridgette quickly backtracks as she scoffs, waving a hand as she hops up onto the last step to the top of the staircase. “NAH. No way! If he did, I’m sure Ladybug and Chat Noir would have done more than just snooping around and then calling it a night!”
Allegra glances to her friend, a little bemused by her strong reaction. “Yes. You may be right… Why do you thi-” She was cut off as Bridgette suddenly jumped with a happy squeal which can only meant that she found something delicious to eat, an extremely good fabric on sale… or she spotted Felix. Allegra follows her line of sight and just shakes her head with a smile. Definitely the last option.
“Oh my sTARS, Allegra! Isn’t he just so elegant?! How does he do it, this early in the morning!?” Allegra tried to look at Felix through Bridgette’s very literal heart eyes, but just couldn��t. He seems tired and grouchy as usual, almost a bit skittish. He is holding a sizable coffee cup alongside his usual book- a new one this time judging by the red cover- and is sporting eye bags that could easily rival Bridgette’s after a creative-driven night of frenzy designing. His hair and clothes were immaculate as usual. 
Right now, he was just cupping his coffee cup in his sweater-covered hands, glaring at the lack of a Java jacket like it was the source of his problems. “His sweater paws are so cute!” Ah, Bridgette has already noticed, now just cupping her face and now waving her hand in the air at Felix as she skipped over. Allegra in tow, sisters in arms, of course. “FELIX!!! GOOD MORNING!!” 
He jumps at the sudden sound, the cup almost sliding out of his hand before Bridgette catches it, poking it back into his hands. “Bridgette, can you not yell this early in the morning? It hurts my head. I think my ears are ringing.” Allegra wonders how out of it he is that his Bridgette sensor didn’t go off. His Bridgette sense was more accurate than ever these days and Allegra has not missed his quiet, warm looks directed at her before Bridgette eventually finds him.
“You sure it’s just the volume and not the capital letters?” Bridgette teases back, her face lit up with a smile. Felix merely rolls his eyes with the poorly concealed fondness that came from the soft spot he has for Bridgette, just taking a sip in response. He greets Allegra with a polite nod which she returns with a friendly wave. 
It was a peaceful walk to the school from that point, as Allen joined when they passed by his usual morning bakery stop, and the peace quickly turned into back-and-forth banter when Claude joined, popping out from some trees like the tall gremlin he is.
Bridgette couldn’t help her wide smile and the skip in her step, happy and feeling at peace with her friends. She laughs cheerily at a musical pun Allen directed towards Melodie, who smacked him in the arm with her flute case. 
Felix, engrossed in the verbal cat fight with Claude as he is, shared the same sentiment. Even while quickly finishing the coffee with the amount of angry sips taken from it.
This didn’t escape Bridgette’s notice but classes started before she could say anything. Unfortunately, they didn’t have any morning classes together.
“You drank that coffee so fast I was worried that you were going to crash before lunch.” Bridgette comments from behind, skipping until she was walking right beside him as they maneuvered through the hallway. Although their school boasted wider hallways than her old school, so it wasn’t a big deal. Felix envies her seemingly boundless energy. “You’d be surprised how long a single cup of coffee can sustain a person.”
“With six shots of espresso in it? I should never have had any doubt.” She giggles. Felix lets out a breath of laughter. 
“Do you want to get lunch together, Felix?” Bridgette suddenly blurts out followed by an uncharacteristic shyness as she nervously plays with the end of one of her twintails. Felix notices how pink the girl’s cheeks had become and was unsurprised to feel his own heart rate picking up a notch. Bridgette glances up at him, delightedly smiling a bit at the tint of pink on his cheeks. 
“Of course.” He responds almost immediately. He held his thermos of tea tighter in his hands, staring down determinedly at the curling bit of steam, the heat drawing out of the pink color in his cheeks. To think there was a time where Felix would sneak around the lycee in a mission to avoid Bridgette.
“I was thinking of a quaint Italian deli found the other day tucked over where you can see the Eiffel Tower. I remember you saying that you really like sandwiches.” He didn’t mention that he only knew about it because Chat Noir had slipped on an unlucky loose brick and crashed into the outdoor sitting area when battling with the Mime yesterday night. Er, this morning. At 3am.
“Yes!!” Bridgette cheers, both fists pumping in the air. “I love sandwiches!” 
Ladybug & Chat Noir
There’s some kind of irony to describe this situation. Some cruel irony that only the Fate that encouraged him to put on the Black Cat ring could… inspire. Were Felix in any other situation, he could spit out bitter poetry that could properly express any and all of his emotions with a dramatic flair. Bridgette knows, having been the willing but unfortunate audience to Fellix’s hissy fits on missions and school assignments alike. 
The cathedral around them was falling fast, pieces of rubble and broken purple stained glass reflecting the fading red and green light as their transformations whittled away to Bridgette and Felix. Like some kind of macabre imitation of the red and green Christmas lights that still lit up the rest of Paris.
Bridgette looked up and found Felix’s face a breath away from hers, his green eyes shining as they met her own brown eyes. This time there was no magicked haziness that hurt their eyes and their brains. They saw each other as plain as day, even as their surroundings grew dark again.
“I knew it.” Bridgette whispered through cracked lips, a soft wheeze. Her heart pounded as she drew a long, slow breath to calm her heart. It didn’t do much, her head still spun with a dizziness that wasn’t just from blood loss as she gently pushed herself up. 
“I… didn’t.” He replied, almost instantly, his soft tone relaxing Bridgette’s nerves a little. A tremor went through his normally still soul, leaving his face frozen in shock and his hands trembling as he rifled through past memories. This revelation suddenly filled in all the holes and answered all the questions he had about Bridgette’s timely appearances and Ladybug’s mannerisms; their faces are the exact same! He almost wants to smack himself for not making connections sooner.
He realizes that he has been staring at her for too long. And realizes that she was also staring at him, her gaze flitting about his face as if she was making the same connections that he was. 
His other hand still holding her shoulders to him gently rose to her face, brushing loose strands from her face. “There.” He says, tilting his head until his forehead rested to hers, unwilling to be far from the person he thought he just lost. 
“I did have my suspicions.” He finally admitted in the silence. He saw her blink, her lips curving in a familiar smug grin.
“Before I tricked you to think they were wrong.” His face finally changes to that familiar grumpy cat look. She couldn’t help her laugh, although its usual boisterous volume was quieted by her fractured ribs. 
Felix didn’t move though and just held her gaze as if seeing her again for the first time when they met under the big new moon on that rickety rooftop with tall winding chimneys. The trust and relief in his eyes caught her breath, soothing what doubt churned in her chest.
“Let’s talk about this later.” She says with a smile, bringing up her hand to her ear. “Tikki, spots on.” Her earrings hummed, flashing pink light again as Tikki whirled out of the earrings happily laughing as she flew in fast circles above their heads, leaving behind glowing red dust as it settled over the two, bringing them off the ground buoyantly. Felix watched with wide eyes, speechless, as Bridgette floating higher. The pink dust hovered in the air for only a moment, moving like little shooting stars before it coalesced over her mundane clothes. When the light faded, there stood Ladybug. Felix smiled. The red mask brought out her determined, impossible blue eyes, her suit highlighting the stance of utmost confidence.
He realizes he was staring as he sheepishly ran his hand through his hair. “What?”
“Nothing.” She laughs in such a genuine and whole way like she always does. It felt right and he returned her laughter with a soft smile. He extends his hand, gently squeezing hers and gently pulls her back to the ground. He looks over what’s left of the cathedral foyer, the shattered glass and rubble made it a precarious journey starting with the pieces of colorful ceiling that trapped them. A piece of cake for them, though. 
Ladybug reaches up, her hand brushing his as the curious spherical red-and-black disc transforming itself into a hefty pickaxe in her other hand. “Maybe I should take a look, we probably wouldn’t want to touch an unlucky spot.”
He takes her gloved hand and places a soft kiss on her palm, grinning at her flustered face. “Or perhaps, my Lady, your advantage is that you’re short.” He can’t help laughing as Ladybug lets out an indignant squawk, scuffing her fist against his arm.
“Plagg.” The ring pulses three times, releasing an eerie glow of deep purple, black and green in waves, as Plagg whirled out of the ring cackling. “It was about time, Felix, do YOU know how tORtuROus it was??” 
“The only time anything isn’t torturous for you is when you’re gorging yourself on cheese.” He responds dryly, to which Plagg only hovers upside, stretching not unlike a cat as his permanent grin only widens.
“Or napping.”
“Hello Ladybug.” Plagg waves a lazy paw. She looks up from where she was prying apart wooden panels, where moonlight was leaking through. “Hey~” She winks.
And before Plagg could open his big mouth, Felix thrust his arm forward, the ring facing Plagg. “Claws out.” He grins. Plagg pouts, kitten eyes shining before spiraling in the ring. Flashes of purple-black light explodes outward as he closes his hand into a fist. Felix closes his eyes, feeling his breath rush out of him as the light solidifies into encompassing bubbles that merge with his dark clothes, melting into the familiar stealth armor he preferred.
Ladybug watched his transformation with a fond smile and held a hand out when his eyes opened again, sweeping it dramatically to the opened doors. He took her invitation as they both jumped out of the chasm made by his Cataclysm, the two of them bouncing up amongst rubble and jutting stone until all that was in their view was the open Parisian city they loved. 
Ladybug had gotten there first. Her fists clenched by her side, narrowed eyes taking in the challenge to war. Chat Noir walked up to where she stood on the sloped roof, resting a foot on the apex, his hands resting almost leisurely on his sides. 
The first thing they saw was the Papillon miraculous’s symbol imprinted on the sky, flaring the telltale miraculous light. Impossibly white, murky with bright colors. 
The moonlight that had peaked through the doors was gone, instead, rolling clouds pulsing with magic were quickly moving across the Parisian sky. Sparks of fire and pillars of Papillon miraculous magic lit up the red city, casting light on the blimps that blared the purple Papillon miraculous symbol. Neither Ladybug nor Chat Noir have seen so many pillars of magic activated.
Charged wind blew around eerily, the sounds of shouting, crying and sirens filling the air. “This is a declaration of war.” Noir notes. Suddenly a sharp wind picked up while hot air blasted up from her feet. Neither Ladybug nor Chat Noir moved as their hair and ribbons danced and flipped in the gale. As one, they looked down over the edge of the roof.
And before their very eyes, a giant blimp rises from a pit in the cobblestone streets, its giant butterfly symbol looming over them as it lifts off into the sky floating forward toward the Eiffel Tower like a shark in the water.
Ladybug only turns her head to him, a determined smile on her face. He looks over to her, his eyes thoughtful and calculating. Her phone was already out in her hand, the call activated in the group chat. “We won’t hesitate either.”
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precuredaily · 4 years
Text
Precure Day 165
Episode: Yes! Precure 5 17 - “Love Story of a Pure-Hearted Maiden” Date watched: 12 December 2019 Original air date: 27 May 2007 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/md9kwKC Transformation Gallery: https://imgur.com/a/6k6SzS0 Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout
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Remember the Prism Love Checker, the Takoyaki Handy, or the Charm Pencil Case from the last three seasons? Yeah, it’s that time again! Time to loosely base an entire episode around a toy that doesn’t fit the theme of the series.
The Plot
Natts House is sold out of everything, and for some reason there’s an implication that Rin should be doing something about this, but instead she’s crafting a bead bracelet, ignoring her surroundings, and generally acting strangely. Nozomi recalls that only other time she’s seen her friend this way was when she had a crush.....
Later, the girls pay her a visit at her mom’s shop, and see her giddily selling flowers to a handsome young man, and blushing. They confront her and she doesn’t admit to having a crush on this guy, but doesn’t deny it either. Since she agreed to deliver a flower to him, they urge her to make the delivery now while they mind the shop, and dress nicely to do it.
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Nuts gives her a blue bead bracelet to match the red one she’s wearing (again, toys) and she sets off. However, the girls are curious to see her shoot her shot, and after some debate Karen justifies it by saying she’s just looking out for the students, so they follow her in secret. Rin arrives at his residence but hesitates, unsure what to say. Meanwhile, Girinma watches ominously from a tree....
As she’s just about to knock on the door, he opens the porch door and sees her. She gives him the flower and is just about to confess her feelings when a lady comes over and he introduces her as his girlfriend, for whom he buys the flowers. Rin goes from crushing to crushed, but manages to hide her feelings long enough to give them both the bracelets and wish them well before running off and breaking down. She sits on a bench and reflects on how she met him, as a patron of her shop, and starts to cry. Girinma shows up, taunting her dream for being pointless, and he prepares to attack her. The other girls catch up, declare Rin’s feelings to be precious, and they all transform. Girinma turns a nearby water fountain (the large, decorative kind, not the ones you drink from) into a Kowaina, which tosses the girls around. Even Aqua, who is supposed to be able to manipulate water.
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Despite being overpowered and heartbroken, Rouge declares that she still wants to look forward to good things in life, and refuses to give up. The Kowaina suddenly weakens and it turns out Coco and Nuts have cut off the water supply to the fountain. Lemonade, Mint, and Aqua handle Girinma while Rouge and Dream take out the Kowaina, and the day is won.
As they all walk home, Nozomi, Urara, Komachi, and Karen suggest activities to cheer Rin up, but she knocks them each down in turn because they’re impractical or not to her tastes. Then she realizes that with all of them there, including Nuts and Coco, nobody is watching the shop, so they have to get back there as soon as possible, and the episode ends with a still frame.
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The Analysis
First off, if I haven’t established this by now, I’m a sap for romance episodes. Always have been. So seeing Rin crush on someone warms my heart, even if I know it’s not going to end well for her. Also, she’s really cute when she’s like this. I mean, she’s always cute, but more cute. Actively cute.
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I have to give props to her actress, Takeuchi Junko, for this. She sounds a bit more high-pitched and aloof than normal. Also there’s a sequence where she’s roleplaying in the mirror as herself and the guy, switching between personas and voices and it’s hilarious and a good show of skill.
I can’t really say her taste in men is great, this guy’s only notable feature seems to be “he comes to her shop, is personable, and is moderately attractive” but since she’s modeled after Nagisa, the bar isn’t exactly high. And of course, young love is rarely rational. It’s less about who she likes as much as the fact that she likes someone, and the writers’ ability to craft an episode around that. As far as episodes of this show goes, this one isn’t very good, especially coming off the fantastic Komachi focus episode, but it’s still fun overall. In this series, even the bad episodes are still pretty solid. They spend just the right amount of time showing Rin as lovestruck, doing silly things, and then getting heartbroken, before they move into the battle.
Now, the elephant in the room here is the Pop’n Beads Maker. It will appear again, and I know it appeared in HUGtto under a different name. This is a toy that was released in the Precure 5 toyline with branding from the characters, but it doesn’t have any plot relevancy. We’ve seen this before, but the previous items they were plugging were a bit smaller than this.
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In stores now! Wait, I’m 12 years late.
Based on translated Amazon reviews it seems it was well-liked. I don’t have much to say about this. It threads beads onto a string for you so you don’t have to do it by hand. I read mixed reviews of how good it was at doing this. It may feature the least into the story of any of these gimmick items. For reference, the Prism Love Checker was used by Nagisa to see how compatible she was with Fuji-P.... or would have been if she hadn’t chickened out. The Handy was shown to be useful at Akane’s takoyaki cart, and Honoka used it to control a slideshow as well. The pencil cases in Splash Star were used to share messages about how Saki and Mai cared about each other and were sorry for upsetting one another. The bead maker is shown once, as Rin makes a bracelet, we see Nuts hold one more bracelet, and then it’s never seen or heard about again in this episode. Very weird. It’s preferable to forcing their whole relationship to center around the bead maker, but then it comes across as a less effective toy plug. I feel like there’s a middle ground for effectively marketing your product and integrating it into the plot in a non-hamfisted way, but I don’t want to waste time coming up with one.
I would like to point out that, despite being portrayed as sporty and tomboyish, they always take care to show that Rin also has feminine interests as well. She’s happy making flower arrangements, and here she is fawning over a boy. Her friends make note of this, and I’m not bringing it up to say it’s unusual for her. I like that she’s able to express all aspects of her personality mostly freely (she feels a little embarrassed about the crush, as people are wont to do).
I really like how they showcase Rin and Nozomi’s old friendship. We know they’re second generation friends who have known each other since they were very young, and we know they always look out for each other, but I love is how they show it in this episode. Nozomi recalls Rin’s previous crush that got her acting all giddy, and wants to support her wholeheartedly. When she gets her heart broken, Nozomi gives her some space, but when Girinma mocks her, she jumps on the offensive and declares how important Rin’s feelings are. When it’s time to strike the final blow, she works in tandem with Rin and says “Don’t make a maiden angry! You wouldn’t like us when we’re angry!” She has no time for anyone who upsets her friends, especially Rin, and that’s admirable.
Komachi, Urara, and Karen don’t have a whole lot going on this episode. It’s not about them. They’re mostly moral support, and encouraging poor decisions. All of them know they should leave Rin alone to go talk to this guy herself, but they’re also curious to see how she does. Karen is initially the voice of reason, saying they should give her her privacy, and Nuts backs her up. However, when Nozomi insists, she comes around and says as student council president, it’s her responsibility to look out for the students, and comes along. This is a pattern of behavior with her, she acts reasonable at first but then she makes poor decisions. I kinda like that about her, it shows that she’s not the unflappable student council president they all think she is, she’s just good at logic-ing her way into situations. And then when they’re all coming up with ways they can cheer her on, using their unique skills, Komachi suggests that she could write lines for Rin and Urara says she’ll be her stunt double!
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she is unique.
They’re a bunch of dorks and I love them.
Also over on the villain side, Girinma isn’t doing so hot. Bunbee handed him his termination papers and threatened to fire him if he didn’t improve his performance, so he’s especially cynical of Rin’s misadventures when he spots her, but it doesn’t really relate to his attack. It doesn’t seem to amount to much of anything, except to show that Bunbee is at the end of his rope with his employees, which will come into play in a few more episodes.
To wrap it up, it’s a filler episode with the intention of plugging a toy they couldn’t advertise any other way. No Pinkies are gathered, but we see a little insight into Rin’s softer side, and some machinations behind the scenes. It’s not a bad episode, but if I had to recommend ones to skip for time, this would be one of them. I do understand the importance of fleshing out your cast so the audience cares about them and appreciates the bond between characters, which is what this does, but ultimately it’s not especially relevant. I would rate it a 7 on a scale of 10.
Next time, Masuko Mika interviews Karen at home, and we see spring uniforms! Look foward to it!
Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 1 Kettei!
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cursed-ice-spirits · 5 years
Text
Fairy Lights
First of all, happy fucking birthday Rebecca.
Second of all, I blame @thecursedvaultchild for dragging me into this ship. 
Enjoy.
Rebecca put up the last fairy light around the statue and jumped down with a smile. 
She had decorated the Courtyard with fairy lights. Where she got them doesn’t matter. All it matters was that her date is coming soon and she’s extremely nervous.
“You can do this, Lord,” she told herself as she tugged at her purple ao dai. It was beautiful, but was she enough for it? No, stop it. “It’s just a date. With Diego. Who you fancied for a while. No pressure.”
Rebecca took a deep breath and thought back to her conversation with Andre before she went on the date. 
“You look nervous,” Andre said with a slight smile as he zipped up her dress. “A Knut for your thoughts?”
Rebecca pursed her lips. “I don’t know. What am I doing going on this date? This is Diego, one of the best duelers AND dancers in all of Hogwarts. He’s way out of my league.”
“Stop that,” he snipped, poking at her cheek, before going back to doing her hair. The length made it a bit harder to style it but he can deal with it. “You’re not so bad at dueling yourself. Have you seen what you did to Lockwood last week? That coward ran off with his tail between his legs.”
He saw her crack a smile at the memory and continued. “You’re talented at Charms, you’re a master at art and Arithmancy, you know your way around COMC, and you’re a great dancer as well. I should know this, I was your date for the Celestial Ball, after all. All those things make up for the areas you’re not so good at and it makes up who you are. You need to stop putting yourself down.”
“Harder than it looks, Dre,” Rebecca frowned at the mirror. “I don’t know… there are all sorts of what-ifs. Like—“
“What if this turns out like Charlie?” He asked. “It won’t be. It was a mutual break-up and both of you thought it’s better suited not to be in a relationship. Which is fine. But Caplan? He genuinely likes you. It’s not like, one of his flings or something, but he genuinely likes you. Lana thinks he does anyway.”
“Really?”
“Yup.” He finishes the last touches on her hair and pulled back. “You can do this, Bex, just be your true self. Don’t pretend to be someone you aren’t. Just be happy and believe in yourself.”
“Believe in yourself,” she repeated to herself. “Be your true self. Don’t pretend.”
She sat down at the fountain, facing the entrance of the courtyard and closed her eyes, feeling the wind blowing against her face. It was a beautiful night, a perfect one for a date, and the fact that they weren’t supposed to be out this late gives her a bit of giddiness that comes with breaking the rules. 
Given, she’s a prefect, and she shouldn’t be condoning this, but still.
It’s… nice to be out.  Forgetting her troubles for a moment, she lets herself smile. 
“Your smile is like the sunshine, Sunshine.”
Rebecca couldn’t help but let out a slight laugh as she opened her eyes and looked up, seeing her date smiling down at her.
“That was absolutely horrible,” she said as Diego helped her up. “What do you think?” She asked a bit nervously. 
“It’s beautiful,” he said, and he wasn’t looking at the fairy lights decorating the courtyard, no he was looking straight at her. 
Rebecca felt her ears redden. “I meant the decorations, you doofus.”
“Who said it was about the decorations in the first place? They can never outshine you.” Diego laughed when she just buried her face in his shoulder in response. “You’re adorable when you blush.”
“And whose fault was it in the first place?” She asked, stepping back to pout at him, but it ruined the effect with the gigantic blush still on her face. 
No matter how many times he flirted with her, she still blushes and it frustrates her to no end, because he should not still be having this effect on her after months of pinning and pinning, that’s so unfair. 
“Mine of course,” Diego said with a grin as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “And proud of it.”
“Obviously, since you take great delight in making me blush,” she says, rolling her eyes as she poked at his cheek. 
“What can I say?” He grinned as he gently took hold of her hand, catching her by surprise. Kissing every one of her fingers, he looked down at her with a smirk that always drives her mad without fail. “You look gorgeous in red.”
Rebecca’s face turned completely scarlet. “D-D-Diego!” She splutters. 
“What? I’m just saying the truth.” Diego took hold of her chin and tilted it up. “Look, there’s the red now.”
“Oh my god,” Rebecca said. “You are impossible.”
“But you love me,” Diego pointed out, laughing when Rebecca didn’t even bother to deny that, since she was the one who confessed in the first place and asked him out on a date, before running off and dealing with Andre making fun of her the entire day.
Imagine her surprise when he corners her the next day and agrees.
“Shut up,” she says instead, swiping at his arm. 
“Make me,” Diego shoots back with a smirk.
Rebecca reddened even more if that was possible, but grabbed his collar and tugged him down to her level, ignoring the yelp that escaped, and placed a kiss on the side of his mouth 
“Hope that counts,” she tells him as she lets go, then runs off. 
“You little minx!” Diego laughs as he goes after her. “Get back here!”
Seems like he was prepared this time, because he easily catches her and brings her out into a twirl, taking joy in her gasp of surprise, before pulling her to his chest. “Gotcha.”
Her face was burning at the proximity. “Ah, so I can’t really pull the same trick twice, huh.”
“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’. He tapped her nose. “How bold of you. Did you really try for a full-on mouth kiss? On the first date?” He teases.
“Still, pretty bold.” He runs a thumb over her scars, sending shivers down her spine and looks at her in the eyes with a soft look that made her heart flutter. 
Rebecca feels her lips quirk into a smile. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“No reason at all,” he said, curling a lock of her hair around his finger and tucking it behind her ear again. “I was just thinking… the atmosphere is rather romantic, don’t you think? How about we… I don’t know,” he leans down and purrs into her ear, “dance?” He pulls away, smirking at her red face. “If there’s music of course.”
She blinks, trying to regain her composure. “T-That’s what I was planning to do before you decided to make me breathless as always. And I know a way to fix the lack of music.”
Seconds later, music starts “mysteriously” playing in the background. Rebecca grinned up at him. 
“A girl has to be prepared.”
“A beautiful girl,” he adds as he lets go. Before she can react, he sweeps into a bow and held out a hand. “May I have this dance?”
Rebecca laughed. “You didn’t have to ask in the first place.” And, with twinkling hazel eyes, she took his hand.
They fit like pieces in a puzzle and danced beautifully. Rebecca was extremely grateful her mother had taught her how to dance, or else she would have tripped over her feet and step on Diego’s foot and that will end up in a disaster. But for now, there was no misstep, or stepping on feet, and she couldn’t help but laugh every time she twirled and twirled, and before she knew it, he was bringing her out into a spin and sweeping her into a dip.
“Oh!” she gasped, finding herself face to face with him. “Hi there.”
His gaze was surprisingly soft as his hand spins into her hair. The smirk that appeared when they were dancing seems to fall away into a fond smile.
It left her speechless. To see that smile aimed at her. 
“You missed earlier, y’know,” He said suddenly. “Allow me to fix it.” Rebecca blinked. “Wha--?”
She was swiftly cut off when he brought her head up and pressed his lips against hers and making the butterflies in her stomach flutter furiously. 
Warmth seems to spread through her entire body. Starting from her fingertips, all the way to the tips of her toes. She melted in his arms and went to kiss back, fluttering her eyes shut and tilting her head to give him better access. 
It was her first kiss and…
Wow. 
Wow.
Unlike the kisses he shared with Summer, it wasn’t hot, passionate, and fierce, it was gentle, sweet, as though she was fragile and he was afraid of hurting her. 
(In many ways, that was so so true.)
Her hands slipped from his shoulders to his hair, threading long fingers through the brown locks. She felt him smile against her lips as he pulled her up to her feet, hands lowering to her hips to pull her closer.
Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. And it was all over too soon. 
They pulled away at the same time, panting for breath. He stared down at her as though she hung the stars and moon in the sky.
“Wow,” she said, and that was all she can manage. 
Diego’s lips twitched into a smile. “Wow indeed.”
He went to pull her in for more, but then a small meow cut through the air, freezing them in their tracks. 
“I guess we overstayed our welcome,” Rebecca said, her hushed voice filled with glee as she flicked her wand and turned the music off. Another wave took down the fairy lights. “Come on, let’s go before we get caught.”
“Definitely,” Diego grinned as he kissed her neck, making her squeak. “Don’t want to get detention, eh, Miss Prefect?”
Rebecca grabbed his collar and tugged him towards her, pressing a kiss on the side of his mouth and smirked when he freezes up. 
“Oh look at that, I missed,” she said innocently, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “Race me to the Common Room and maybe I won’t miss.”
He smirked. “Oh, you’re on.”
And they raced out of the Courtyard just in time to miss Mrs. Norris passing by, giggling like the teenagers they are and not the battle-worn warriors that fought and fought against Vault after Vault.
They may have kissed more outside the Common Room. 
They may have talked and talked until the wee hours of the morning, before cuddling on the couch. 
They may have done both of those things, but all that mattered is that Penny’s squeal of delight after finding them asleep on the couch together woke them up.
Rebecca let out a groan as she buried her face in Diego’s chest and, if possible, snuggled closer to him. She felt him chuckle and reach up to play with her hair, coaxing her gently to go back to sleep.
Tuning out Penny’s excited chatter about whatever she’s rambling about, Rebecca slipped back to the arms of Morpheus.
She’ll deal with the rumors later. 
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moonlightreal · 4 years
Text
Winx Club season 8/21
In which we all do some DDR.
21 Dance Contest on Melody
More Musa/Riven stuff, strap in guys!  I swear, this season turned me from not caring about that ship to hating it with a fiery passion.  Come on relationship, redeem yourself already so I can go back to standing peacefully outside all fandom drama sources like I want to!
Alfea!  Grizelda is teaching “magical self defense class”  in the courtyard.  I like how we’re seeing all the teachers—except Avalon, I wonder what happened to him!  They’re doing magic shield practice and Knut and Kiko are shooting cannonballs with a catapult to be shielded against. I wonder if shields against a physical object and shields against a magic zap are a different spell.  But grizelda says the cannonballs ‘simulate a magic attack’ so maybe not.
Stella’s shield is a gold star.
Musa is up next, she practiced a lot but her phone rings just at the wrong time. Riven wants to go out for ice cream!  Musa does not sound enthused, like at all.
So they’re back together?  I don’t really remember them getting back together.  My guess is here’s what happened: the second-half writers were told that part of the plot in the first half was that Musa and Riven would get back together, and then the first-half writers… flubbed it.  It happens to us all, you get to the end of the story and realize you didn’t manage to do one of the things you were planning to do.
Or else this ice cream date is Riven’s attempt to actually get back together.  
  Because she’s paying attention to her phone she nearly gets beaned with a cannonball, and then Knut launches Kiko from the catapult, and then the star box appears to save us from the slapstick.
...Is this a glitch?  The box floats there silently and the Tecna says something about the world of music.  I think the dubbers forgot to put in the sound file!
I like that the minor fairies also gather around to hear the star box.  I wonder if some of them are hoping in their hearts that this time the box will say it’s someone else’s destiny to find the prime star.  We never see the minor fairies being jealous, but they must be, the Winx get to do everything and they’re singers too!
Bloom asks to be excused and Grizelda says the fate of the magic universe is indeed more important than their lesson.
So Musa texts Riven that they have to go save the universe again.  Flora says Musa should give him one more chance, “it’s just ice cream.”  Flora, I love you but quit pressuring Musa! -_-
Musa: ‘I don’t need him telling me his feelings unless he can show me!”  Uh, I agree with the sentiment Musa, but that’s what he did with the hologram projector and all that showed was that he’s a bonehead. But Musa perks up because she’ll get to see her dad.
Bloom is concerned about the Trix getting there ahead of them, but Stella says there’s no way the Trix could be there already and we cut to…
The Trix were there already!  Aerial zappy battle for the star, which is on top of one of these really cool giant rock spires that have the tops carved into treble clefs.  Love the geography!  I want to imagine who carved these things, I wonder how people know when they move into a realm what kind of magic it will have.  The girls’ home realms each have a certain flavor, while Magix isn’t associated with any particular kind of magic. Imagine being an explorer visiting new realms to discover their magic...
In the fight the prime star gets dislodged and its little hamster ball goes sailing off towards the city.  Everybody follow it!
Musa says, ‘it’s flying toward the Melody disco!”  wait, is that whole thing a disco?  The scales of things are sometimes confusing, I thought it was a whole city but maybe it’s just one building.
Cut to… a disco! Or some kind of… do nightclubs really look like that?  Colored lights, big speakers, several levels of dance floors, big screens. Very cool.  The partygoers do not look particularly traditionally Asian, they’re all colors and wearing big pants and hats and sweaters.  I think this is like, Asian punk clothing?  K-pop style? I don’t follow K-pop and I don’t go to night clubs, but if they looked like this I might.  
And there’s Galatea!  The art style has actually made her look older than she was, she’s wearing the same dress as when we saw her in the sovereign council, that super skinny dress with the ruffles up front. I feel like the very classical-music Galatea should look more uncomfortable at this not-classical club, she doesn’t fit aesthetically, but she’s having a grand time announcing the annual Melody disco competition.
The Winx come in, Musa says this is Melody’s biggest party and Galatea organizes it every year.  it’s like her pet project, I love it!  Galatea holds up the prize for the “dancing queen”, a crown with a treble clef on it, and the prime star landed inside.
Ok, it flew from outside and landed perfectly in the crown and Galatea’s holding it up and doesn’t notice?  Come on. ...was what I wrote when watching in Italian, but in English it’s even worse because Galatea did see it and she just says, ‘this crown and a special extra that just fell from above.”  So Galatea doesn’t recognize an important magical item or wonder where it came from or why… groan.
So Musa goes, “Hey, Galatea, old friend, we need that star and then you can go back to enjoying your contest!” and Galatea gives it to her--
Not.  That is not what happens.
Flora does suggest they just ask for the star but Musa says it won’t be that easy, “Princess Galatea takes this event very seriously.”
The Trix are here too.  Icy tries some magic to “bring down the house!” and it doesn’t work and all the punk kids glare at her.  She looks quite worried for just being glared at by a bunch of punk kids!
Galatea says very prissily, “Remember, the disco is protected against magic attacks, so no cheating please.”  I dunno if it’s just me but I’m seeing Galatea as, she acts all prissy but she’s like a stealth nerd who pretends to be all formal but secretly just has a ball going off on nerd stuff.  Or in this case, disco.  Maybe that’s just me reading what I want to see into the character ‘cause it’s such a fun image of her.
Anyway, we’ll just have to win the contest to get the prime star!
Bloom seems pretty happy about this, and Aisha says the star case mentioned harmony so winning a music contest would make sense as a way to get the star.
Stella says, ‘everybody, hold still!” and gets everyone dressed up. Gradient-colored outfits with neon edging.  Bloom comes off worst, the designers couldn’t bring themselves to go with blue so she’s in mostly a muddy purple and her hairstyle is not good.  Flora’s is similarly blah, Musa has cute banding across her top and I like her very ninties hair.  Tec is cute in green and Stella in yellow. Aisha’s turquoise with purple neon looks the best, and she says this might be the best outfit Stella’s ever put together.
Are these dolls?  I hope so.  I not-so-secretly want Winx dolls with glow in the dark elements, because I want them to be Moondreamers.  Cosmix totally granted my Winx-moondreamers wish, except for the glow in the dark stuff part!
Musa’s ready to dance but the others tell her to go see her dad while she can.  The others mention Aisha is a talented dancer, yay for them remembering that.  So Musa goes to visit her dad.
The Trix notice Musa’s leaving and Darcy wants to go after her to make sure she doesn’t “know something we don’t.”  Smart, Darcy!  Icy grabs her sister and says they have to win the crown.  But Darcy says, ‘You don’t need me, you have our secret weapon.”  What weapon?
  Icy and Stormy get their dance clothes on and they look awesome!  Way better than the Winx.  Icy’s hairdo is a bit much but other than that they rock.
We cut to Red Fountain.  Sky and Brandon are sparring.  Riven is brooding about Musa avoiding him.  Sky says he should try talking to her, but Riven says every time they talk they end up arguing.  Brandon suggests they argue because they have strong feelings.  Sky says, “Talk to musa face to face, show her your feelings.’  which is what Riven’s been trying to… sigh.
Back on Melody Stella offers to help explain the dance contest rules.  Galatea recognizes her by name so the girls totally could call on their friendship with Galatea to get the star.  it’s also cool that one royal recognizes another.
This dance contest is like DDR Twister, anywhere on the floor can light up and also spots in the air.  I cannot wait until this is a real thing in AR. It’s coming, people.  It’s coming.  
Stella eventually flubs it, she gets catapulted off the stage and lands in Bloom’s arms.  Galatea explains if a dancer misses even one step she’ll be eliminated
Icy vs Flora dance! People recognize Icy, Galatea does… and nobody calls the police to report public enemies on the loose and in the same room with the princess!  People cheer for Icy like she’s a normal contestant. Maybe they don’t realize she’s THAT Icy..?
Bloom says, “Icy’s not bad!” in both Italian and English.  Flora grins cutely the whole time and is pretty adorable, but she loses and gets carried off the stage in a bubble which pops, dropping her in Aisha’s arms.
I used to love DDR. I was terrible at it, but it’s fun.
Darcy is following Musa to her house.  Musa meets her dad!  Hugs!  Musa’s house is cool, it’s Asian-ish with like, lines of music along the roof..
Inside, screens, sliding doors, Asian style tea set.  Musa remembers her childhood with her parents, it’s really sweet.  Baby Musa has two pigtails. There’s a huge double-harp, it has part an upright normal harp and part a bench with harp strings over it and Matlin and Ho-boe played it together.  I wonder if that’s a real thing, it’s like the sofa of harps.  Hoe-bo calls it the “Harmony harp” and says even the stars come to listen.  It can only be played by two people whose hearts are in harmony, so hoe-bo hasn’t been able to play it since Matlin died.
Darcy: ‘What a sweet moment.  I’d better ruin it right away.”
pffft!  Darcy, I love you, never change.
Tecna vs Stormy dance!   Stormy says it’s time for the Trix to unleash their secret weapon, but Tecna isn’t worried.  She says the dance contest is kind of like a video game.  And it is, but you need physical strength and speed too.   If I were writing this I’d have Tecna say, “Anything where you can ‘level up,’ I can win!’
Stormy turns out to be “better than Icy… a lot better.”   Tec gets farther than Flora did and ends up in a perfect tie with Stormy.  Galatea chirps, “Double perfect!” and tec says ‘achievement unlocked” again. They go to a higher level that’s like breakdancing where you have to spin around on your back and stuff.   Eventually Stormy wins.
Galatea should not be so chipper about public enemy numbers one and three winning her contest.  She knows who the Trix are, she’s calling them by name…
Stella runs right up to icy, “wait-wait-wait, STORMY was your secret weapon?”
Stormy: ‘Five time dance witch champion.”
Icy: ‘She’s kind of a rising star in the world of dark dance competitions.”
Bloom: “Dark dance competitions?”
Aisha: “It’s a thing.  Unfortunately.”
Ok that was great.  and Aisha’s delivery of that last line was spot on.
Musa is eating ice cream with her dad, it’s sweet.  He asks why ice cream and guesses it’s about Riven.  Musa says, “It’s not about Riven.  It’s never about Riven actually.”  Hmm.
Darcy is lurking outside, she says ‘Musa’s making this too easy.  I’ll finish it with a single shot.” O_o
thankfully riven turns up to save the day.  They fight but Darcy can do all her illusion stuff and she wins without too much trouble, and puts a mind control spell on Riven.  She sounds just delighted at her new plaything.  Now she can cause even more havok!
Musa hears a noise outside and thinks it’s the Trix, but it’s Riven.  She invites him in, and she sounds… not drama-y.  She just apologizes for canceling their date and says they can have ice cream now.  Darcy gloats.
Next time: more dancing!  Riven and Musa!  Stormy wins the contest!  Gee, that’s a spoiler.
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