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tharros-auris-black-asimi · 2 years

Text

Take me to church (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Dark Priest Bucky Barnes x Singer Female Reader

Summary: In Modern Russia, James Buchanan Barnes is the Priest of the Catholic Church. He has a great life.

However, there is something in him. A darkness.

And once he meets you, an opera singer at the Bolshoi Opera House, that darkness ferments and grows.

But James doesn't mind corrupting you. Or him.

Not at all.

Chapter Warnings: This story takes place in modern Russia. Heavy discussions and allusions to religion are also in this story. Mentions of a past male predator, as well as past male predatory behavior, are discussed. As well as the male predator in question having an improper power imbalance/dynamic with his victims. And because of the past male predatory behavior, there is also mention of religious trauma. This fic also contains a Dark!Priest!Bucky. And, if any will be asking, yes, implied/referenced murder. If you get it, you get it.

I think that should cover all of my bases as far as the content warnings go for this chapter, but if I missed any, please let me know down below!

Italics are for Russian. As this is modern Russia, I've switched out some names to make the story a little bit more accurate. Or, as accurate as I can possibly be. Instead of Natasha, she'll be known as Natalia. And instead of Alexander Pierce being spelled like Alexander, he'll be known as Aleksandr.

Additional Notes: Wooof, this had been living rent-free in my head for the last couple of days. I wanted to have all of this mostly prewritten out, as this is officially my first Christmas Special ever! So a Happy Holidays to you all!

This story couldn't be here without the love and support of the lovely soundboard that is @lizzygal, who often encourages these crazy ideas I have brewing. A huge thank you for your enormous help! This baby couldn't have been born without your helpful suggestions.

I would also like to add that even though Priest!Bucky is Catholic in this story, I am not Catholic myself or religious, so there will be some inaccurate things in here. So, I apologize in advance if anything seems out of the ordinary.

If you'd like to read this on my AO3, you can read it here.

Word Count: 6,648

“Hey! Are you going to get drinks with us tonight?”

You balanced your phone in between your ear and your neck as you craned your neck, to support your phone. Hastily putting on your shoes, you grabbed a hold of your phone again.

Smoothing over your clothes again, you checked to make sure your makeup still looked good. You had woken up after hitting your snooze button, and in a haste, had gotten ready.

Your boss wasn’t a very nice person when it came to tardiness.

Especially considering you worked at the Opera. You were going to need to get a coffee. Almond milk, no sugar. As a performer, you were not allowed any dairy or sugar. You rehearsed your lines daily and made sure to get lots and lots of rest. You drank some hot water with lemon when you had woken up this morning, and it was a very nice pick me up.

A certain little whimper caught your attention.

“C’m here Star, gonna let me feed you before I go, baby?” You were using your baby voice. Your Chihuahua just ran up to you, jumping to scratch at your jeans. You started to laugh.

“Okay, okay, okay! I gotchu. I get it. Hold on.” Star followed you to the little pantry where you kept her dog food, the blonde-furred dog wagging her tail happily as she heard the bag open. Excitedly, she ran over and watched with wide eyes as you got her food.

“… You still there?”

Oh shit.

“Yeah, yeah Darc- I’m still here. What were you saying about drinks on Saturday?” Your response made your friend snort as you poured food into Star’s dog bowl. She went to town, chowing down as you continued to talk to Darcy over the phone. Plopping the measuring cup into her dog food bag, you sealed it back up.

“Are you going?” Darcy Lewis sounded amused as you ran to the front door of your apartment.

“Be good for me while I’m gone, okay baby?” You patted Star’s head. She whined. “I don’t know if I’ll go have drinks tonight, Darcy. I mean, I went last week. You know I still have to go to church next month on Saturday when we usually go for drinks… because of my brother. I need to pick his daughter up from church. She’s got Christmas song rehearsals.”

“Oh!” Darcy sounded delighted. “Cassie, right? Scott’s kid?”

“Yeah.”

After your dad had remarried, Scott Lang had been one of his kids. You liked Scott very much. He was very much a jokester. After he had gotten out of jail, you had helped him get back onto his feet. Now, he was in a relationship with Hope Van Dyke, co-parenting Cassie with his ex-wife. She was a singer at the Bolshoi Opera House, and you were her understudy for the production of Faust.

“Oooh! Then you can see the priest! Oh my god, I saw him at Sunday Mass, and oh my god, if he weren’t a priest-” You stopped Darcy’s gushings as you unlocked your front door, only to close it and lock it. You made a noise deep in your throat.

“That’s the frigging priest you’re talking about, Darc. I don’t need to know what he looks like, okay? I don’t need to know what he looks like while he’s in his robes. Or worse, when he’s out of them.” You couldn’t help but shudder at the thought.

Because yes, you had seen pictures of the priest He was certainly attractive. Chestnut-brown hair that went down to his shoulders, blue eyes, a strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, and not to mention his beard- he was practically a walking wet dream. Not to mention he was very muscular and broad. You had only seen pictures of him on the Internet and Google. Never in person. When you moved out of your mother’s home after you had graduated from high school, you swore to yourself that you would never attend another church.

Especially the church that the current priest now did Sunday Mass in. Just the thought of it made you terrified. It made you feel sick.

“Do you think he’s packing?” Darcy’s words made you choke.

“Oh my god, please stop.” You begged as she cackled, hearing you exit out of your apartment complex, and she heard the chatters of people walking down the busy street.

“No, seriously! He’s like, super freaking tall. He’s gotta be packing under there. Do you think his holy sword is bigger than President Rogers’s sword?” Her voice had lowered to a gossipy whisper, which made your cheeks burn in embarrassment as the thought crossed your mind of, is this truly a friend of mine that I have.

“I don’t know! Why don’t you ask him for a physical Darcy, you’re a doctor!” You proclaimed. Some people on the street looked at you funny. You apologized profusely as you continued your merry way down the street.

“I’m not a physical doctor. That’s not in my field. Why don’t you go ask him? Or ask his ex-girlfriend?” Darcy suggested. “That’s an invasion of privacy,” you snapped at her. “Besides,” you continued on. “I don’t even know who his ex is. And aren’t priests supposed to be pure?”

“Well, this isn’t the Middle Ages. Maybe he’s not a virgin? Maybe he even has tattoos. You know, I met a priest that had tattoos once. Oh, he was wonderful.” Darcy’s suggestion did not fall on deaf ears.

“Still not checking his dick out. That’s gross. Besides, don’t you remember the sex tape that got leaked of that one celebrity in the West? I’m sorry, but I’m not looking forward to seeing myself on every porn site known to man while the priest is balls deep in my kitty, okay? No thanks.”

Your response made her cackle. It made Darcy sob with tears.

“I knew I taught you well. How’s your lady garden doing? Is it doing okay? Still going through a dry spell?” Darcy teased you. Your cheeks flushed, once again. “How can my lady garden be going through a dry spell when I haven’t even had a dick inside of me yet,” your grumble made Darcy laugh again. Reaching a street, you stood with people who were waiting for the stoplight to signal for walking. Now having a few minutes to yourself, you indulged in talking to your friend.

“I should take you out to a club. A strip club. You need to pop that cherry girl.” Darcy giggled as the crosswalk signal shone. Moving along with the crowd, you continued to talk.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’ve been trying to do this since we got into college. I’m twenty-five, not fifteen.” Your scathing remark made Darcy roll her eyes from where she was sitting, at her desk, at work.

“I’m just saying, it could be good for you. I know why you don’t go to church. I will spit on Joseph’s grave for you when I go and see my mom.” Darcy promised.

Just the reminder of the former President made you feel ill.

When you had been a teenager, still on the cusp of your teen years, you had still gone to church with your mother. Your parents had divorced when you had been young, and your dad had remarried to a nice lady who you considered another mother. You had three other half-siblings. However, your mother had not remarried. It had just been the two of you. And when you still attended church, a new priest had been put in.

Even now, as you walked down the street, coincidentally where the Church was, you couldn’t help but stop and stare. Tourists were there, taking pictures. Gushing over it. Talking about how gorgeous it looked.

Just looking at it made you feel sick. Because yes, you agreed, the church was beautiful. It was even more beautiful on the inside. You would know. You had gone inside there for years, once upon a time.

But now?

Now?

You weren’t stepping foot in it.

The priest had been there when you had gone had preyed on your best friend. She hadn’t been the only one. Many other girls had come forward, saying that they had also been targeted. At first, the church had dismissed the claims. Saying that it was absurd, that there was no way that the priest could have messed with young girls because A, he was married, B, he was a Holy Man, and C, because he deflected and said that the girls had come onto him.

… Until he had slipped up with C, saying that how could he have said no? That they were just too darn convincing. He had fallen into sin.

At the remembrance of those events, you couldn’t help but feel the bile beginning to rise up to your throat. You had worked at the altar. You had been in close proximity with the former Bishop.

If it hadn’t been your friend, it could have been you.

It was why when after you had graduated high school, that you had told your mother point-blank that you were no longer going to church. That you just couldn’t.

Being your mother, she had tossed you out of the house. With nowhere to go, you had accepted Darcy’s invitation to stay in her home. Throughout your college years, you lived with her family. Working odd jobs to earn money. All the while working to gain your BFA. Or. Bachelor of Fine Arts. You had majored in Opera, although you did belt out musical theatre tunes as well. You were very fun at karaoke nights.

“… Yeah… I don’t know if I can… go…”

Your words were a little strangled together. Checking the time on your phone, you began to internally panic.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

If you didn’t hurry up now, you’d be late.

“Hey- listen, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later?” You were speeding the hell outta there, jogging down the street, in order to catch the streetlight. You stopped to catch your breath, as the light hadn’t flashed yet.

Phew.

You were saved.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you during your lunch break.” Darcy’s mood was still chipper as ever. Grabbing your AirPods from within your purse, you took them out of the case and slipped them on, connecting them to your phone.

“Kay. Bye.”

Just as the stoplight glowed, your music started to play.

And then, you were just another person in the crowd, going to work in the city that you loved.

That same day, in the afternoon, with Bucky…

“Excuse me, Father? Do you need anything else?”

Makkari, his deaf assistant at the front desk, looked at him.

James Buchanan Barnes, the current Priest of the Church quickly signed back to her.

“No, that’ll be all, Makkari. Thank you.” Signing back her thanks, Makkari walked out of his office and back down the hall to where the front desk was.

Leaning back into his chair at his desk, James took in a deep breath. His hand ran down his face, all the way down to his jaw. His jaw clenched.

After the past President had passed away due to a heart attack, and Steve's unfortunate father had been placed into the ground, the previous priest had been stripped of his position. James’s jaw continued to clench as he remembered.

He had not spared the man.

And why would he? After what the man had done to those teenage girls? It was disgusting, was what it was. A disgrace.

James hadn’t told Steve.

Steve would have never needed to know the measures he had taken to make sure the previous priest had just remembered what the consequences were when you messed with teenage girls.

At the ripe age of thirty-five, the first five years of serving the church as a priest, James had made sure everything was in order. That the mistakes of the past priest would not continue. He made sure to keep his boundaries. He made sure to treat everyone with respect.

He had joined the church as a priest at the age of twenty-three and had gotten his doctorate when he was twenty-nine. Very young. He had been the youngest man to be made the priest when he had been thirty. He served his country and his people. Not like Steve whereas he would have been President, but he made sure that the church was running. That everything was in order, and that everyone was behaving.

But now… he felt like something was missing.

James had taken a vow of celibacy. He refrained from sexual relations. But he wasn’t a virgin. He had popped his cherry a long time ago. If any word had gotten out that the priest had gone into sexual relations, well, that might have made a much bigger splash than the sex tape scandal that had leaked the Internet of that one American celebrity. James might as well just have lost his job. He might as well as have kissed his robes goodbye.

A deep sigh left the man.

He had sworn an oath, a vow to the church. He would upkeep that promise. But he missed it. Coming home to someone in his bed. James grabbed the whiskey and poured himself some. It was in the middle of the afternoon. No one would care or notice. Taking a gulp, he put his glass down.

His phone vibrated in his pants. Getting it out of his pocket, he quickly checked the notifications.

And then a text showed on his screen.

It was from Natalia.

are u coming to the opera tnite? Steve’s gonna show up with his fiancee

Typing back to Natasha, he saw that she was still typing

you don’t go outside Yasha

you need to go outside

your life is so boring

Rolling his eyes in fondest, James began to type back.

I’m not boring, Natalia. I’m an introvert. I don’t go outside because I don’t like crowds. It’s why I joined the church.

Three grey bubbles popped up from Natasha.

oh yes

im sorry oh righteous one

Go back to work, Natalia. I’ll see you later at the opera.

James imagined Natasha laughing at him when she gave him a thumbs up. Shutting his phone off and putting it in his desk and sliding the drawer shut, he leaned back into his chair and dragged his hand down his face, clenching his jaw.

His thoughts drifted back.

To that headspace he never thought he’d ever find himself in ever again.

Those deep, dark thoughts of just wanting more.

He wanted sex. Granted, James wasn’t a virgin. But he did refrain from sexual touching. But he was a sexual creature. He still masturbated, at the very least.

But he just couldn’t get sex. His fist just wasn’t covering it. It just wasn’t. James wanted to scream.

There was a little part of him though. That part of him that was whispering to him that he had taken a vow of celibacy. That he was a holy man.

It was that part of him that he fought with.

He might as well just have said goodbye to his entire fucking career at this point.

Just as he was about to lose himself in his thoughts even further, a knock at the door caught his attention.

“Father?”

James exhaled.

“Yes?”

It was going to be a long day.

Later that afternoon, with you…

“What do you mean, she can’t go on?”

You sat in Alexei Romanov’s office, perplexed.

You couldn’t believe this.

Alexei Romanov, the current owner of the Bolshoi Opera House, just looked at you as you sat in his office.

His Russian accent was thick as he spoke. “Hope got sick. You are her understudy. Therefore, you will take her place tonight.”

Tonight was the first showing of Faust. Your hands gripped the desk in anxiousness.

Noticing your sudden distress, Alexei put his hands over yours. “Don’t fret, little one. I did not make you understudy just for you to fail. You are good. Good enough to be Hope’s understudy. And no one judges my wisdom, eh?”

You shook your head no.

Alexei chose the cast members with deliberation and carefulness. Even though his own two adopted daughters, Natalia and Yelena were in the ballet corps as ballet rats, and even though Natalia was the Prima Ballerina, she didn’t get there just because of her mother’s favoritism. Her mother, Melina Vostokoff-Romanov, the ballet mistress, trained her daughters and the rest of the ballet rats day and night. They all lived in the ballet girl dorms. You had too, once upon a time. Before you had been moved up to the chorus, and now, as the understudy to the Prima Donna of the opera house.

“You will do just fine, little one. Don’t worry too much, huh?”

Swallowing the thick lump in your throat, you gave him, (or at least tried to), a confident nod.

It was later, during a rehearsal break that you got approached by Natalia and Yelena.

The three of you sat down, eating your lunch. Yelena cooed over Star howling. “She has great lungs,” the blonde-haired young woman remarked as she patted her tutu, “If there was a dog opera, she’d be the main star.”

You snickered. Natalia just looked amused as she took a bite of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“Do you miss being in the ballet corps?” Yelena wondered to you. You pursed your lips as you took a nice gulp of your lemon and ginger tea, with the slightest bit of honey. You often carried your hydro flask of ginger and lemon tea for your throat. Feeling the warm liquid go down your throat, you spoke in a low voice.

“Sometimes,” you replied back to her. “Sometimes, I still dance before going onstage. It helps stretch out my legs, you know. I still do my stretches.”

Both Natalia and Yelena nodded in unison. In seriousness, of course. Stretching was always important in their line of work. They were flexible than a football player. Or what America perceived as football anyway. The three of you heard down the grapevine that America referred to what you would call football “soccer.”

Which was weird in all honesty in itself.

But then again, America itself was a weird place. You had a friend who was a chorus member in the Metropolitan Opera House in New York City. She often spoke about Americans referring to things that you would normally call a jumper a sweater.

America was truly odd.

“Good,” Natalia hummed. “Are you excited for the first show tonight?” She asked you curiously. You took another gulp of your tea as you gently put your hydro flask down on the table in your dressing room. Your dressing room was a tad bit smaller than the leads. But, it still held a couch, a TV that was propped up on the wall, your vanity where you had all of your stage makeup stashed, a mini-fridge, a microwave, and a table where you kept all of your tea bags and your kettle plugged into the power outlet.

From where you were, sitting on your vanity, you looked at Natalia who was sitting on your couch while Yelena had found your TV remote, and was watching some Russian soap opera.

“Your father said that since Hope couldn’t make it tonight, that I’m taking her place.”

Yelena gasped out loud.

“Oh!” She exclaimed happily, “How exciting! Are you excited?” She asked you giddy.

You swallowed that huge lump in your throat. Just like how you had done in Alexei’s office.

“I don’t… know.” Your voice had turned soft. “I’m… nervous. I know the part backwards and forwards, I… I know the blocking but… I’m terrified. I know that I’ll do fine but it’s just… I’m nervous. Everybody's going to be looking at me.”

Two-thousand, one-hundred, and fifty-three seats.

That was how many people were coming to see Faust tonight.

You couldn’t help with nervously fiddle with your thumbs. A nervous tick you had picked up as a child, whenever you got anxious before a show.

“You’ll be fine,” Natalia reassured you as she came to put her hands over yours. The redhead even had a reassuring look in her eyes.

“Come on. Deep breaths little Songbird.”

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

“-You know, Yasha’s coming tonight.” Yelena’s remark did not fly by Natalia. Removing her hands from yours, she turned to look at her younger sister. “Oh?” questioned Natalia, “So he said yes?’

Now.

You had no idea who this “Yasha” was, but whoever he was, he must have been very important, because Yelena gave Natalia a toothy grin as she replied back in Russian.

“Uh-huh. His schedule is all cleared for tonight and he secured a box. Box Five. You know that’s his signature spot,” Yelena giggled.

Natalia rolled her eyes.

“Yasha’s always been some what of a scamp,” Natalia remarked. Yelena just continued to giggle.

“Who’s Yasha?”

Yelena giggled once again.

“Don’t worry little Songbird,” Natalia reassured you again.

“You’ll find out who is soon enough.”

Later that evening, with James…

“Are you sure you’re going to come?”

James was at home, as his pet cat Alpine ran around the luxurious apartment, chasing her toy mouse around.

The white feline had been overjoyed when her daddy had come home. Alpine had greeted him at the door, meowing at him and pawing him for some much-needed head rubs and tummy tubs. And cuddles. Lots of cuddles. Then, she had retreated to her scratching post to scratch at it.

James had then got out of his vestments and into much comfier clothes. Now in his black jumper and a pair of sweats, the broad-shoulder man leveled his phone on his shoulder as he talked to Steve.

“Yeah, Steve,” James replied back in Russian as he grabbed his water bottle, uncapping it and taking a gulp.

Alpine pounced on her tiny mouse, shifting onto her back as she rolled around on the rug, playing with her toy happily.

James watched as Alpine played with her toy before he heard Steve speaking again.

“… You’re gonna take your usual box, aren’t you, jerk?” Steve’s teasing voice made James grumble underneath his breath. “Course I am, punk.” James huffed.

“So, I’ll meet you there, jerk?”

“Yeah, punk.”

Alpine yeeted her toy across the room. A painful meow escaped her as she huffed, getting on her hind legs. Getting into position to pounce on the little mouse toy, she kicked her hind legs back in a show of intimidation.

A deep hiss left her when she zeroed her gaze right on the purple toy. With a meow that sounded like a battle cry, she leaped across the room and tackled her toy.

James’s chuckles snapped her out of her train of thought. The purple mouse's tail hanging off of her teeth, Alpine stared at him dead in the eyes.

She watched as her daddy chuckled down at her, getting down onto her level to pet her head. Alpine meowed in content.

“I gotta go to the opera, alright Alpine?” James told his cat. “I’ll come back home and spoil you. We'll cuddle on the couch together. How’s that sound?”

Alpine meowed. James took that as a yes.

Her tail swished, as if to say, you’d better come home in one piece, dad.

When James got to the opera house, many people were already getting in their seats. James made his way up to his box and took his seat. He had changed out of his jumper and sweats, exchanging them for a nice black button-down shirt, a pair of his nicest black slacks, and his black dress shoes.

Because there was a dress code policy. Whenever you went to the opera or the theater, you did not wear a simple t-shirt or jeans. You needed to dress nice. It was the policy.

So, James sat in his chair, in his box, waiting for the show to begin. He even took his phone out of his pants and scrolled through the news as people made their way to their seats.

After a few minutes of aimlessly scrolling through his phone, he heard someone over the intercom speaking in Russian.

“Please silence all and any cell phones. The performance shall begin shortly.”

Shutting off his own phone, James pocketed his phone back into his pants.

A few minutes later, the curtains opened.

Revealing the aged scholar Faust. The actor playing the aged scholar began to sing and lament about how his studies had left him to nothing, that his studies had made him lose out on enjoying life and finding love.

James watched as the man onstage picked up his goblet, containing poison, using it so he could drink it to end his misery. Every time Faust tried to drink it however, a choir stopped him.

James had been watching.

But just then, he saw it.

The actress playing Marguerite appeared right there, on stage, singing. She was trying to convince him to accept Mephistopheles’s offer to exchange his soul for his services on Earth.

You were nervous. But, you were singing along, looking at the principal tenor Jimmy Woo, as your spinning wheel spun. He was giving you an encouraging look as you spun around, making eye contact with the principal bass Vision, or Vis, as everyone called him, who was playing Mephistopheles. His red and black makeup made you want to burst out a giggle, but you were a professional. Continuing to sing, you watched as Jimmy raised up his goblet and took a gulp of it, even though nothing was in there.

Hiding your smile, you and the chorus hit the crescendo note and vanished just as the now young scholar Faust and his strange companions set out into the world.

As the opera continued, James continued to watch you with rapt attention.

You were just… wonderful. James couldn’t quite put a pin in it, what made you so alluring to him. You happily moved along with the chorus and ballet rats, Marguerite joining Faust and the villagers in their waltz as Faust declared his admiration for her.

He watched as you modestly declined his arm, before being taken away by Natalia and Yelena, dressed in commoner's clothing, leading you towards Stage Right.

Act Two bled into Act Three as James watched the young man playing Siébel leaving a bouquet of flowers on Marguerite’s doorstep, while Mephistopheles urged Faust to buy Marguerite a present. When Mephistopheles put a box and a hand mirror next to Siébel’s flowers, James saw you come back.

You walked right back on stage, coming back Stage Left. You wandered around the stage, mimicking the blocking as you sang a sad ballad about the King of Thule, as Marguerite pondered over her encounter with Faust during the waltz with the villagers.

Vision’s wife Wanda, who was playing your neighbor Marthe, came out from Stage Right and spoke to you about how nice the jewels looked.

“Must be from an admirer,” Wanda teased to you as you opened the box, procuring the jewelry and sliding the prop onto your neck. Getting up and doing a spin, you giggled as the stage lights caught onto your jewelry.

As the orchestra moved into the Jewel Song, you happily danced around the stage and sang, pulling a giggling Wanda into your dance. Happily singing the aria while you danced on and about, you did a little spin, the jewelry caught the lights, making them shine.

James couldn’t stop watching as you happily spun around, your voice floating as you finished the aria.

As the audience clapped, Wanda pulled you back as the two of you giggled, before you were joined by Vision and Jimmy.

Leaning back into his seat, James Buchanan Barnes swallowed thickly. Watching as Natalia and Yelena led a couple of the ballet rats back on stage, he made eye contact with Natalia.

Having caught Yasha’s eye, Natalis didn’t nod, nor did she even wink at him.

It was a knowing look.

Natalia knew what he was thinking.

Two peas in a pod, one could say.

It had been that way ever since they had been growing up together in Moscow as little children when Winifred and George Barnes had met each other while Winifred had been a chorus ballerina and George had been in the orchestra as a Viola player. James knew the Bolshoi Opera House backwards and forwards. Every corridor, every underground corridor too. Even the underground sewers.

And, as Natalia steered you away, she saw you.

You had finally made eye contact with the priest in Box Five.

Prey always knew when they had been caught by their predator, after all.

“To the opening night of Faust!”

“To the opening night of Faust!” The entire company, including you, cheered as you did the toast.

More cheers sounded as all of you took a gulp of your vodka shots. Laughter and loud conversations soon filled the room as you began to walk around the huge room, where the after party was being held.

The after party was being held in the huge foyer, and after everyone had gotten out of their costumes and into the clothing that they were going to wear tonight, someone had popped open the vodka and champagne bottles and the party had officially gone into full swing. The cast and crew were all in the room, and you waved and greeted friends, colleagues, and patrons alike.

Natalia had given you one of her silver dresses. Even though you had protested at the idea. But, Natalia had won after she had convinced you that it would be fine and that she didn’t really need it anyway. So, clad in Natalia Romanov’s silver dress and a pair of matching silver heels, with your face painted and sculpted to the musical gods, you wandered around with a glass still full of champagne.

Just then, you felt it.

A shiver go up your spine.

“Yasha!” You heard Yelena shout from where she was. She was making her way towards you as the blonde dancer waved at someone, motioning them to follow her. You watched as she bounced towards you gracefully, even with the glass of champagne in her hands. She was almost like a fairy, gracefully bouncing your way towards you with a smile on her nude painted lips.

“Songbird!” Yelena greeted you cheerfully, “C’mon! I wanna introduce you to Yasha! Where’s Tash? Good Lord, is she talking to Barton again?” Yelena groaned as the two of you weaved through the crowd, heading towards whoever this “Yasha” person was.

“Yasha!”

Your heart immediately skipped a beat when you saw the “Yasha” person turn around.

Oh no.

No. No. No. No. No. No.

No.

It was-

It was the frigging Priest!

Jesus Christ on a frigging stick.

He was more attractive in person than you initially thought.

Google Images did not do him any justice.

That strong jaw. Those sharp cheekbones. And the beard. Oh, the beard. His shoulders were broad and they were making the nice black button-down shirt he was wearing look like his muscles were practically rippling through the fabric.

And… was that a tattoo you were seeing peeking out from the first two buttons of his shirt that were unbuttoned peeking out?

Yes… it was. You saw a smidge of the beginnings of his tattoo on his chest peeking out.

James’s shoulder length hair was tied back into a man bun, and you swore to yourself that you didn’t care much for men who had their hair in man buns, but at this moment?

Yeah.

You were feeling it.

At this very moment, you swore to yourself that you were so wet to the point where someone could easily drown a toddler in your panties.

And for a moment, you totally forgot that you were staring at the priest, practically ogling him like you were some lovesick teenager who just discovered that she had a crush on the most popular guy in school.

Until your brain had caught up with your heart and you were steered right back in your current reality.

Oh shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You had just been shamelessly ogling the priest.

Fuck!

Your mother, if she had still been in your life, would have not been very happy right now. She would have dragged you off by your ear and reprehended you for your selfish and reckless behavior.

“… Yasha! Here she is!” Yelena looked very cheerful as she introduced James to you, speaking your name.

The first thing you really noticed about him was his eyes.

Those eyes.

The way they captivated you, held you prisoner in his gaze. His eyes alone made your breath hitch in your throat, leaving you unable to speak.

James had rendered you completely speechless.

“Hello, little one.”

Fucking God.

His voice was just so... nope. It was husky and deep. You weren't about to divulge into deeper details. Who were you, EL James? Please. As if.

You thanked every lucky star in the universe that Yelena was still holding onto you. Because if she hadn’t, then you were sure you have collapsed right then and there on the floor like some dramatic bitch.

But, then again, that was your profession, so maybe, probably, people wouldn’t be all that surprised.

You hoped.

“Hello Father,” you managed to say with a tight smile on your face, “I hope you enjoyed our opening night. We’ve been slaving away at it. Aleksandr made us work our asses off.”

“He made the orchestra go through the waltz dance three times one night Yasha!” Yelena whined, suddenly remembering the hellscape that was Aleksandr Pierce’s harsh eye.

“And Melina made the ballet rats go through the waltz dance three times too because of that,” you added, now clearly amused as James saw you take a sip of your champagne.

You were hiding an amused smile behind your glass before you heard Yelena tell you she had spotted Helen, one of the other ballet rats. Bidding you a goodbye, she happily bounced off, her curled blonde hair bouncing behind her like waves.

James spoke again. Making you maintain that eye contact with him.

“I enjoyed the show very much. Your portrayal of Marguerite is… exquisite. You captured her perfectly. How long have you been at the opera house?” James inquired as he took a gulp of his water. Being a priest, he didn’t drink all that much.

Your tongue came out to dart your lips, to moisten them.

“Well… my mother enrolled me in ballet classes when I was three. And I’ve been taking singing lessons ever since I was four. After I got my degree a while ago, then I joined the opera house pretty quickly. So… I would like to say, a couple of years now. Four or five, at the very most.” Your response made him raise an eyebrow. Looking a little sheepish and possibly a little bit embarrassed as well, “I was in the ballet for a long time. My mother had the funds to enroll me in the ballet corps with Natalia and Yelena. Here. But I didn’t stay in the dorms because my mother didn’t want me to ‘mix up with that crowd’-” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes in annoyance at that. Even putting air quotes around the 'mix up with that crowd' part. James certainly noticed. He also noticed the way you gritted your teeth a little, gnashing them together.

He got the vibe that you were not very close to your mother.

So, therefore, he did not push it.

“… So, I suppose you can say I’ve grown up here. It’s my second home, really. I don’t think I’d rather be in a place but here. It feels like home.” you confessed.

James cracked a smile.

He was smiling!

Actually smiling!

You could not believe it.

“Are you quite fond of the arts then, Father?” you inquired of James as you gulped down the rest of your drink. As a waiter walked by you, they quietly took your empty glass away from you and asked if you would like another. Agreeing and thanking them, you got another glass of champagne.

“I am. I’m very close with Natalia and Yelena. We all grew up together. My parents used to work here. My mother was a part of the chorus and my father was a Viola player.”

“Oh?”

You were interested.

He had piqued your interest. Not that he hadn’t already, but this interested you about him even more.

“Yes.” James nodded vigorously. “They’re retired now, though I’m afraid.”

“You should bring them to see the show. We run for a couple of more months, Father. If they’re up for it, of course.”

You were smiling. The curves of your lips were up and your eyes were sparkling.

All of a sudden, someone called your name. Breaking your smile as you quickly whipped your head around, doing a whole one-eighty.

Natalia was making her way towards you and James.

“Oh! You met Yasha! It’s so good to see you, Yasha. But we have to go. Ladies' night tonight. We’re hitting up the club.” Natalia actually winked at him this time as she tugged on your arm, making you protest.

“Hey! I didn’t- I wasn’t aware of this!” You yelped as you were tugged away by Natalia, who was gleeful.

“Tash? Tasha? TASH! Hey! No, I wasn’t finished talking to- Tash!”

Your pleas followed the two of you as Natalia whisked you away, leaving James alone.

“Did you enjoy the opera tonight, James?”

That was Alexei.

The Romanov family, although they did go to church every Sunday and called him by his proper title, they did not do that whenever James visited their home during the holidays.

Turning to face the man he considered a father figure, James gave him a nod. “I found the actress playing Marguerite very enchanting, Alexei.”

“Oh yes. Our little Songbird. I adore her, just like every member of this Opera House. But her mother, very uptight woman if you ask me. Very religious as well. You might have seen her in church many times. You do remember the scandal with our old priest, Obadiah Stane, yes?”

Indeed.

James did indeed remember.

“Our little Songbird had left the church after the old priest had gotten stripped of his title. Her mother did not take that lightly and cast her out of her own home. She lived with her friend Darcy Lewis for a couple of years, if I remember correctly.” The two men watched as Natalia grabbed Yelena while you were practically sandwiched between the two of them.

“Do they still live together?” James asked him. Alexei shook his head no. “No, son. Darcy lives with her boyfriend. Loki Lauyferson, I believe? The old English man that came to live down here, expanding his business. His older brother is named Thor, I believe. Thor and their older sister Hela live in the UK.”

“Ah.”

James turned to Alexei. “Is there anything else you can tell me about her?” he asked politely. Alexei turned to him and clapped him on the back. Just like how the older man had done when James had been accepted in the church all the way back when.

You had just begun to make it towards the doors.

However, you couldn’t help but turn around, just to see if James was still there.

He was.

And James was looking straight at you.

Natalia asked you something, and suddenly, you were out of the doors and entered the chilly Russian air.

You were gone.

“… Much, yes. Come. We’ll speak in my office.”

Turning his gaze back to Alexei, James gave a firm nod.

That sounded good.

Very good.

Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44, @bxnnywriting, @hawsx3

#dark!priest!bucky #dark!priest!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

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*rubs hands together*

The first thing to talk about with this episode is the pacing, and I think this might contribute to why people think it’s the best/least bad of Season 4 (personally, I’d rather watch “Furious Fu” but that’s just me; also, this isn’t the only contributing factor as to why I think people might feel this way, but I’ll get there later).

The episode has a very serious pacing issue, particularly with its more intense scenes. There’s only one minute of time dedicated to Ladybug landing on her bed, de-transforming, and her snapping at her friends plus them leaving. More time was spent on Chat Noir and Ladybug in the movie theater and Ladybug storming out.

I particularly remember watching the episode and getting eighteen minutes in, at which point I had the realization of, “It feels like nothing’s happened?”

This episode is supposed to be a big gut punch, but the season has been going by at the speed of sound, like they’re trying desperately to play all their cards at once (Lukanette break-up, Adrimi break-up, then Alya is told Marinette’s secret identity). Instead of letting things build and play out for a while in the interest of suspense, the show just throws whatever will get a big reaction out of the fandom (whether positive or negative) and it doesn’t care how shoddily put together everything is. The first two episodes feel like hastily put together drafts, and while this one is technically more put together, it still feels like a draft.

Let’s just start with Chat Noir, who feels completely out of place in the episode. Not only does he imply that he intentionally calls Ladybug “Bugaboo” (which she has told him to stop doing) in order to get a reaction out of her, but when Ladybug insists that she doesn’t want to talk, he tricks her into thinking that he has a good location to do so (and my heart breaks a little at how readily she trusts him) only to then take her to a romantic movie, then shush her when she calls him out for it because she “said she didn’t want to talk.”

Gee, and people wonder why she didn’t tell him her secret (even outside of “Chat Blanc” existing)?

And... look, I know it’s a joke, but I do not find it funny. The “joke” is basically that Chat Noir is taking advantage of the situation to flirt with Ladybug, and though I find it at least mildly cathartic that Ladybug is unaffected by all the people staring at them while Chat Noir is embarrassed, this episode is coming right after the one where Kagami broke up with Adrien, and here Chat Noir is getting his flirt game on. I already talked about all my problems with “Lies” so I won’t do it again, but I’ll just say that it’s not a mystery why Ladybug doesn’t want to talk to him and would rather avoid her problems.

(Not to mention that Ladybug knows that Chat Noir likes her, so talking about her romantic problems with him is awkward to say the least and would come off as insensitive.)

Honestly, at this point I feel like they must be building to something with Chat, like Ladybug finally going off of him with no mercy and that forces him to give up/fall out of love for her because reverse love square, but if that’s what they intend to go for, then that means Marinette is going to fall for this guy who’s repeatedly disrespected her feelings for multiple seasons, almost abandoned her and let Paris drown because she wouldn’t tell him a secret that wasn’t hers to tell, and just generally all the other things he did????

Ugh, I don’t wanna think about it. Let’s just move on.

Talking about Ladybug and her rant next, it basically summarizes the whole show in a nutshell, but simultaneously casts a shadow of sorts over “Truth” for people who maybe missed the episode entirely (which is also sort of the show in a nutshell). I mean, Ladybug confirming to the audience that she was genuinely in love and happy with Luka (you can’t watch how depressed she was over the break-up and not think that) was great, but Ladybug’s dialog implies that Luka “hated secrets” and that’s why they broke up, when Luka was more just... hurt that she couldn’t be honest with him, and he didn’t actively hate secrets. Marinette broke up with him because she felt like she had to; because she had to keep ditching and lie to him.

In addition, what she says also hints to the audience that they’ve both held and kissed each other, which not only indicates cowardice on the part of the staff (”yeah this happened but--um--off-screen; we’d still like credit tho plz”), but may perhaps go back to the theory I had about how Adrimi and Lukanette were supposed to last longer in Season 4 but their arcs got cut (based on the Adrimi kiss having supposed to have gone off). This could mean that Ladybug’s statement was originally accurate to canon but the scenes got cut and the scriptwriters just awkwardly left it in, which is made more awkward by the cinema scene in “Truth” that felt like Luka and Marinette were kissing for the first time (again, alluding to the whole, “this entire season has been a draft” thing).

Also, if you think about what that actually means - that Luka and Marinette did have successful dates and kisses but they were off-screen - then all it adds up to is that showing Marinette happy and comfortable was something that the series didn’t deem as “interesting/fun enough” to show, because Marinette being happy isn’t something they want to see; only watching her be miserable, which is exactly what Ladybug says, along with how everything was “almost too simple, too easy,” because Marinette isn’t allowed to have nice things without being jammed through the wringer first.

And... sure, let’s say that Chat Noir thought the movie was genuinely a good idea; let’s assume that it could be a joke, him wanting to flirt, and him believing that it’d make her feel better somehow.

If that’s the case, then where’s the apology when it fails miserably? Ladybug goes from her semi-anxious state at the start of the episode (a little scatterbrained but ultimately just looking for a distraction), to outright enraged by the movie, and then to this upon leaving the cinema.

She just got her heart broken from being forced to break up with a boy she genuinely wanted to be with and there’s not a single, “Okay, maybe coming here was a bad idea, I’m sorry,” (which could’ve been seen as another joke with the audience like “lol no duh Chat Noir” so there’s no excuse not to have it) or, “My bad, that was insensitive of me. I really thought this would’ve helped but I wasn’t thinking about what you would’ve wanted.”

No. The only people Chat apologizes to are the other people at the theater because he’s embarrassed by Ladybug’s reactions, yet he himself feels no remorse for taking her there and has the gall to go on now about how he’s “there for her if she wants to talk.”

Again, it’s no wonder Ladybug doesn’t want to open up to him.

And I’m sorry, I just don’t buy that Marinette suddenly has all this free time. It’s one thing for her to have a little more time now that she’s broken up with her boyfriend (likely avoiding spending time with him altogether now), but “Truth” went out of its way to talk about all of the emergencies she had to deal with and how she doesn’t have any spare time. which is causing her to become forgetful and lose track of certain events (patrols with Chat, dates with Luka, etcetera), yet Marinette spends most of “Gang of Secrets” simply sulking on her bed. It’s so jarring to go from “Truth” where she was doing “too much” (which I called them out on for not describing what the “too much” she was doing was) and now “Gang of Secrets” where she’s not doing anything.

It’s almost like they invented that plot point to break Lukanette up and it served no purpose outside of it.

Furthermore, the scenes of her finally talking to Tikki and then deciding to live as Ladybug does nothing outside of making the plot more predictable, the latter because of the “Alya almost sees Ladybug” moment (an obvious indicator that Marinette is losing control and is struggling to maintain her secret identity due to her emotionally breaking down) and the former because of Tikki herself and what she doesn’t say.

Because, really, think about what actually goes on in the scene. Marinette (eyes rimmed red and filled with unshed tears, as she is for a good chunk of the episode) is venting to Tikki about - yes - her love life, but also that she has to lie to everyone in order to keep her identity a secret. The fact that Tikki focuses solely on the note of Marinette’s love life and not say a word about the identity/lying issue or even consider telling Marinette, “hey, this is clearly too much for you, you should tell someone, I think the benefits outweigh the risks right now,” really proves that the episode tried to avoid the topic altogether to try and make the ending more shocking (which ironically made it more predictable).

So yeah, not only does Tikki’s dialog with Marinette provide nothing except for a line about how she can’t help Marinette with love issues due to kwami not falling in love (alright, I guess aros can’t give good love advice then or have any input whatsoever), but Marinette’s line about lying to everyone being why she can’t pursue Adrien nor Luka is repeated in the very last scene of the episode. The only reason that scene and the scene after exist is because the writers needed Marinette to be emotionally devastated enough to leave for her balcony as Ladybug for the almost-reveal to Alya and so Rose would get close enough to the dollhouse to have an almost-reveal with the Miracle Box, making the scene feel further contrived because the emotional punch of Marinette wanting to live as Ladybug lasts for barely any time at all.

And it could’ve served a purpose, like if Ladybug had genuinely left and Alya finds her goggles and towel, recognizing them from a news story about how Ladybug had gone to the swimming pool after losing her temper at the cinema, which could’ve led to Shadow Moth making the girls believe that Ladybug was no longer heroic and had kidnapped Marinette, or... heck, Ladybug coming back inside would’ve been so much less jarring if she came back because she heard the girls’ voices talking about the dollhouse and had to hurry (but of course, then they’d have to point out the ridiculousness of Ladybug not hearing Alya calling her and the girls not hearing Ladybug literally shouting for Shadow Moth to come fight her, even though the kwami heard the girls calling for Marinette from the balcony).

But instead, the entire scene feels off and unnatural, forcing every part of it in order to get to where Marinette has to snap at the girls to make them leave.

(Oh, by the way, just a little detail to add to the annoyance: they bothered putting Tom and Sabine in the episode when the girls are leaving, clearly saddened by something that happened, and neither parent even bothers to go and check on Marinette to see if she’s upset or just to see what might’ve happened. They’re such a “blink-and-you’ll-miss it” moment in the episode and it’s not like I’m surprised because they’ve done this multiple times by now but really?)

As for the girls themselves... oof, where do I even begin?

Alright, first off is the annoyance that they assume Marinette’s problems relate only to lovesickness. Marinette has been an anxiety-prone mess throughout the entire series, and suddenly now the girls care about Marinette’s love problems on an emotional level rather than “we’ll meddle sometimes unless we don’t feel like it and be wholly inconsistent on how much we push for it.”? It’s not that I don’t see how they came to the conclusion (hearing that Luka and Marinette broke up and now seeing Marinette is depressed, it checks out), but considering they bothered noting that Marinette hadn’t told them anything, one would think they’d come to the conclusion of, “okay, we haven’t talked to her, we have no idea of what’s going on, maybe we don’t know her as well as we thought then and shouldn’t make guesses.”

Secondly is the “eternal friendship bracelet,” which comes off as a copy of the “Secrets” game from “Syren” extremely manipulative. Mylene goes on to explain that one is supposed to give a secret to the pearl “mentally,” yet when the girls actually show up to see Marinette, they expect to be told the secret directly. I’ve already talked at length about peer pressure and the mental stress Marinette goes through when they mock her and/or meddle for her, but this idea of, “well we all used this friendship bracelet after we mutually agreed to it so now it’s your turn because we said so!” just comes off really bad. I know the episode is going for this idea that their hearts are in the right place, but they’re really not. It feels like they’re the ones in denial and are trying to compensate by forcing Marinette to prove that they’re friends, unable to handle the idea that they might not be as close to her as they thought.

Thirdly, the show acts as if the girl squad are her only friends when we know that’s not true because we’ve seen episodes like “Befana” (the guys in the class), “Reverser” (Marc), “Ikari Gozen” (Kagami), and “Silencer” (Ivan) that all established Marinette having more friends than just them, but for the sake of “drama” and the depressing line of, “at least I don’t have any more friends to lie to,” the episode just pretends like Marinette’s friends are limited to Luka (who she had to break up with) and the girl squad (who she forced to leave and refuse the friendship of).

Fourthly is the actual set-up and the sheer grossness of it all. The girls call Marinette and leave a message about how they much they love her and how she can talk to them “where and when” she wants, and then - immediately afterwards - decide that they’re going to go straight to Marinette’s house completely unannounced, go into her room completely unannounced (not even knocking, by the way), and when Marinette begs them to leave, Alya basically tells her that she’s overreacting. When Marinette demands that they leave, Alya refuses and makes demands right back that they won’t leave until she tells them what’s wrong.

So much for “where and when” she wanted, right? It’s already one thing for the girls to invade Marinette’s privacy and demand/guilt-trip answers out of her, but it’s another thing to give the illusion of respecting her feelings and personal space only to actively plan to go back on it. I can’t tell if it’s a bad draft that they didn’t catch in quality check (you know, the quality check that they definitely don’t have) or just an intentional way to make them seem more sympathetic so Marinette looks worse for driving them out, but either way, it’s awful and I hate it. I would’ve rather had them be all in on invading Marinette’s privacy and learn a lesson in the end than outright contradict themselves.

There are also little nitpicks I could make (like Juleka’s constant mumbling despite Luka’s crush on Marinette playing a role in the episode, Horrificator getting sidelined due to being mute, and the girls’ akumatization ultimately being for spectacle and nothing else, serving no purpose to the plot and being furthered by the fact that Timebreaker goes after Marinette despite it being a bad idea and Reflekta’s power clearly not lining up with any sort of plan), but the real issue issue here comes down to the fact that these are Marinette’s so-called “friends” and the episode refuses to address their actual issues.

Alix, who is known for making rude comments at Marinette (”Gigantitan,” “Chat Blanc,” “Miraculous New York”) and then gives mixed messages by going along with meddling anyway.

Mylene, who is the closest thing to a background character in the girl squad but nevertheless finds her way into being definite voice against Marinette in “Chameleon.”

Juleka, who blamed Marinette for things she didn’t do in “Reflekdoll” and got huffy with her until Marinette apologized for said things.

Rose, who outright screamed at Marinette in “Chat Blanc” over a freaking stuffed animal, which pressured Marinette enough that she snuck into Adrien’s room to deliver her gift which nearly led to the end of the world.

And, of course, Alya; freaking Alya. I don’t even have to go into every single thing she’s ever done because I have a history of giving her absolutely no mercy.

...But let’s go through some anyway because I want to.

“Copycat” - Alya gives Marinette a script and tells her to memorize it, then immediately pushes the “call” button when Marinette hesitates after Marinette had just told Alya that she’s awful at improv.

“Darkblade” - Alya takes a jab at Marinette when Marinette says that she’s too busy to be class representative, implying that Alya thinks that Marinette does absolutely nothing with her time.

“Gamer” - Alya is busy recording the gaming competition when she and Marinette were supposed to be researching for a term paper. Alya then scolds Marinette for wanting to use the competition to get close to Adrien only to do a 180 and put up a fight about it when Marinette decides to quit.

“Animan” and how “The Puppeteer 2″ follows up on it - oh, I’m not going to touch that particular point right now, but keep those in the back of your mind, because I am going to absolutely go off later

“Simon Says” - Similarly to Marinette’s parents, Alya gives zero damns about whatever might be going on in Marinette’s life that's causing her to miss classes.

"Despair Bear” - Alya laughs at Marinette being forced to kiss Chloe’s cheek and then outright compares Marinette to Chloe after knocking Chloe multiple times during the episode (sure, just compare your “best friend” to her multi-year bully, how "hilarious” of you).

“Gigantitan” - Alya has no qualms about mocking Marinette’s over her failures, even if it embarrasses her and she’s been through enough already.

“Frozer” - Alya tries to find ways for Marinette to prevent herself from third-wheeling for Adrien, but when Marinette tries to show character growth by wanting to go, Alya gets into a shouting match with the other girls over how Marinette has “liked Adrien forever and isn’t going to give up now”.

“Catalyst” - Alya claims that Marinette is only salty over Lila out of jealousy when “Frozer” exists and literally is the prime evidence of Adrien liking another girl and Marinette telling Alya outright and very genuinely that she’s not jealous.

“Chameleon” - Alya doesn’t care about her best friend sitting in the back by herself while Alya herself get to sit next to her boyfriend and everyone else in general gets to sit where they want (Alya even acting confused at the mere suggestion that she’d tried to engineer things to let Marinette sit next to Adrien), then not only believes Lila over Marinette but contradicts herself twice (asking Marinette for proof when she has none herself, then claiming that she wouldn’t let her best friend sit by herself).

“Christmaster” - Alya leaves Marinette to babysit so she and Nino can go out on a date.

“Desperada” - Alya suddenly is for Lukanette for literally one episode and doesn’t know how/doesn’t even try to cover for Marinette’s Adrien blindness despite mocking her for multiple seasons over it.

“Reflekdoll” - Alya invites Adrien to something that’s crucial for Marinette to focus on after Marinette has already told her not to and continues meddling to the point where it gets Juleka akumatized (she also doesn’t get punished for it and the blame gets thrown onto Marinette).

“The Puppeteer 2″ - Alya pushes her luck with Nathalie to try and get Marinette to come with her, Nino, Adrien, and Manon to the museum, then traps Marinette in a room with Adrien to force her to spent alone time with him, even abandoning and forgetting about the child that she offered to watch for Marinette so she and her boyfriend can go off alone.

“Miraculous New York” - Alya is told directly by Marinette that she needs help seeing Adrien as a friend, which leads Alya to do the exact opposite throughout the entire special, at one point shouting at Marinette and pressuring her to chase after a car, in the rain, while there’s a supervillain rampaging through Paris, and all of this right after the scheme that Alya had set up caused both Marinette and Adrien to go missing.

And just saying, as Marinette’s supposed “best friend,” Alya sure doesn’t know how to handle her. It was acceptable back in “The Bubbler” when she asked Marinette about signing the gift too late and the same goes for “Dark Cupid,” but by the time we get to late Season 2/3 and Alya refuses to learn Marinette’s weak spots (unless it’s to mock her) and adjust accordingly (like if she’d already made sure the gift was signed in “Chat Blanc,” which would’ve prevented Adrien seeing Ladybug at all due to the time difference), it starts getting infuriating.

A best friend is supposed to cover for their friend’s weaknesses. Alya doesn’t do that; she meddles and often drives Marinette’s anxiety even further up a wall with absolutely no consideration for Marinette’s feelings (”Dark Cupid,” “The Puppeteer 2,” “Reflekdoll,” “Miraculous New York”).

And here, she and the other girls are rewarded for it. Luka actively resisted his akumatization whereas the girls gave in immediately, yet Marinette still opens up to them in the end, likely because they had pressured her and made her feel bad for the secrets she was keeping while Luka was willing to actually wait for her to be ready to talk to him. I can’t put into words how frustrating it is watching these girls trample all over Marinette’s feelings, not have their worst actions called out, and then jump cut post-deakumatization to Marinette telling them exactly what they wanted to know about her love life.

You know what this entire episode is really missing, outside of a coherent plot, properly-paced development, and a basic understanding of rewarding a character for things they’ve held firmly to?

It’s missing the apology. Chat Noir apologizes to a bunch of moviegoers and Rose apologizes for the broken dollhouse, but no one apologizes to Marinette for how they treated her, especially not the “friends” who got rewarded in the end.

“Sorry, we shouldn’t have told you that we’d respect your feelings and then showed up unannounced to make you talk about them.”

“We’re sorry we came into your room and invaded your privacy. You were right to be mad at us.”

“Oh my gosh, Marinette, we got akumatized and we’re so sorry for literally all five of us going after you and probably scaring the living daylights out of you.”

And as if that wasn’t enough, guess what else this is missing? It’s kind of important and brought up directly in the episode, yet the episode simultaneously goes out of its way not to bring it up again.

It’s the reason why Marinette didn’t tell the girls about her relationship with Luka. It’s not there - it’s missing - and the girls never try to pursue the subject. They talk about how Marinette didn’t tell them but don’t think for a second that maybe it’s them who have failed as friends. Instead, they don’t guess anything about why Marinette wouldn’t tell them (which is already strange considering how much they already assume about her) and jump straight to, “well clearly we just need to push for her to talk to us.”

Gonna just go out on a limb here and say that maybe - just maybe - Marinette didn’t tell them because they are habitually pushy in everything they do.

Because they would’ve teased her relentlessly about, “ohhhh you’ve got eyes for Luka? what about Aaaaaadrien~? aren’t you sooo tooorn between both of these cute guys?”

Because they would’ve meddled to force her and Luka together and gotten on her case when/if she ever had to bail on him.

Because their intrusion on her feelings for Adrien had caused her nothing but problems and she just wanted to be with Luka in peace without them forcing their way into things.

Because--hey, wild thought--maybe they’re not really friends???

But the episode completely avoids it, because that would’ve meant addressing it; it would’ve meant acknowledging that they messed up, which - fun fact - they actually don’t do in the episode.

They invaded Marinette’s privacy, insisted that she tell them how she feels (not about them of course because that would imply that they felt like they screwed up), and in the end it’s Marinette who gives them exactly what they asked of her, and the closest thing we get to acknowledging anything is Alix telling her/joking with her that they’ll help her confess to whoever she likes as soon as she tells them she’s ready.

That’s not an apology. That’s not an acknowledgment of wrongdoing. Even when the five of them are about to get akumatized, it’s not a circle of them saying, “here’s how I screwed up, I could’ve done better but I didn’t and I lost Marinette because of it.”

No. It’s just them talking about how sad the situation is. Mylene has the closest thing to remorse in saying, “I hoped it would work,” but where does it go? A grand total of nowhere, especially because Marinette still takes the bracelet in the end instead of the girls mutually deciding, “okay, maybe the bracelet was a bad idea; how about we all agree on making something together instead, no requirements attached?”

And then the episode has the gall to act as if Alya has gone through character growth when all they did was put Alya through the same thing that Chloe did. I’ll explain that last bit momentarily, but first let’s talk about the whole “growth” thing.

Because there’s no apology or acknowledgement of wrongdoing, all Alya does when she’s finally alone with Marinette is do a 180 from where she was at the start of the episode, going from, “friends have to tell each other everything,” to, “hey, if you don’t want to tell me, then that’s your right.”

The crucial part that’s supposed to go in the middle is missing. Instead of acknowledging her failures, Alya just cuts straight to “””being a better friend,”““ but storytelling doesn’t work that way.

It literally would have taken zero effort to fit an acknowledgement into that scene. “You don’t have to tell me everything, I get that now. All my meddling’s done is hurt you and I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t trust me.”

In a world where Marinette has to apologize for everything, has to learn lessons and suffer because the narrative says so, I will not accept anything less from other characters who are trying to develop and improve. That’s not fair to Marinette, nor has it ever been.

Instead of properly developing Alya, the show does whatever it can to get its audience to root for her as Marinette’s “best friend” (ugh) without having to put in the effort of admitting that Alya hasn’t been Marinette’s “best” friend.

Remember when I brought up Chloe? Yeah, “Malediktator” did a similar thing, showing Chloe doing something awful, then being sad (while not actually acknowledging the thing she did wrong), and in the end she was rewarded with a miraculous prematurely.

One show of character from Chloe and Marinette gave her a miraculous. One show of character from Alya and Marinette told her that she was Ladybug.

(Also, for the record, I think Chloe is far worse than Alya character-wise and I’m not comparing their characters; this is just the simplest comparison I can draw here from a narrative standpoint.)

“Miraculer” is another apt comparison, perhaps even more so. Chloe got Hawk Moth in her head after an akuma landed in her photo of her and Ladybug, but Chloe resisted and fought back, ultimately forcing the akuma out of her and freeing herself from Hawk Moth’s control.

But it wasn’t to develop her character; no, it was to convince the audience of Chloe and Sabrina’s friendship so they’d feel something during Sabrina’s happy flashbacks, then lay the foundation of tricking viewers into believing that Chloe might not go to Hawk Moth’s side.

At the end of the day, it was doing something that’s “never been done before” in order for the character to earn brownie points for something that the writers can just have them do because willpower is an easy thing to just write in. “Gang of Secrets” does the exact same thing when Lady Wifi breaks free from Shadow Moth, with Ladybug even hammering it home by talking about how no one’s ever done it before.

And the pacing is - again - awful. Not only is Ladybug banking on this working when she herself says that it’s never been done, but the conversation between her and Lady Wifi where Ladybug tries to convince her doesn’t even take a minute.

It also has nothing to do with Marinette herself; Ladybug relies on Alya’s adoration/friendship with her as Ladybug (you know, after Alya took a photo of LadyNoir kissing and posted it online without Ladybug’s consent, betrayed her by putting information on the LadyBlog that Hawk Moth was able to take advantage of, and is the only hero outside of Chloe to resist returning a miraculous) in order to break from Hawk Moth’s control, because talking about Marinette with Lady Wifi didn’t even work.

(Ladybug also uses her yoyo as a portal to the Miracle Box when this has never been pre-established to be a thing despite Ladybug acting as if she knew it was; further proof that this episode was rushed.)

And of course talking about Marinette didn’t work, because that would’ve meant convincing Alya that her reason for getting akumatized was “wrong” and the episode didn’t want to do that. It didn’t want someone else actually learning something and feeling bad; surely, this is just Alya being manipulated by Shadow Moth and having the power to break free because Ladybug “needs Rena Rouge” and not because Lady Wifi and her friends are chasing after their supposed best friend and that’s--you know--wrong???

Rena Rouge’s reappearance is also yet another thing the episode refuses to address because it avoids the topic of “but my identity--”. At least “Heart Hunter” had the tact to have Kagami question why Ladybug was giving her the dragon again, but “Gang of Secrets” treads as lightly as possible on any discussion of identities outside of Marinette saying that she can’t, as if it were Marinette who made the choice of concealing her identity and not the basic idea of heroing that has been stressed over and over for the whole show.

Even Plagg of all kwami stated back in “Origins” that no one is supposed to know about secret identities, a rule that continues becoming flaky and muddled with each passing season, almost like they kept attempting to retcon and make the audience dulled to the idea so that the reveal in “Gang of Secrets” would be more acceptable.

But now, with the way they did it and how they don’t even have Tikki comment on the matter, it once again has it look like they’re making it - say it with me, everyone - Marinette’s fault.

Alya says that Marinette has a choice in telling her secret, Marinette insists that she doesn’t and goes on and on about how it’ll change everything, and then just... tells Alya her secret in the end.

And remember all the way back in Season 2? “Sapotis”?

Alya: What were you saying about her secret identity?

Marinette: Ladybug needs it to protect her family and friends. Otherwise the villains could use them to get to her.

Alya: Well, if I knew who Ladybug really was, I'd keep it a secret. I would even help her! Like say, if you were Ladybug, I'd cover for you — when you needed to transform in school, go fight the "baddies", you know?

Marinette: Oh yeah? Well, if I was Ladybug I wouldn't even tell you, to protect you from the "baddies", you know?

Alya: You serious? If I was Ladybug, I'd totally tell you! Because I tell my best friend everything.

And now here we are in “Gang of Secrets,” as if the narrative is saying, “See, Marinette? Alya was right all along, you were just being ridiculous and making yourself suffer for no reason!”

Yet Marinette had a right to keep her secrets. When Alya and Nino learned each other’s identities, Alya took a hit for Nino in “Catalyst” and both of them fell to Scarlet Moth’s akumas. Chloe was a mess and a half because of Hawk Moth knowing her identity. Fu had told Marinette that her miraculous would get taken if she and Chat Noir learned each other’s identities.

The only ones who received no consequences due to someone knowing their identity were Pegase (who Chat Noir and Markov knew), Ryuko (who Chat Noir, Ikari Gozen, and Hawk Moth knew), and Viperion (who Adrien knew). “Chat Blanc” also exists where Marinette got the impression that people discovering her identity would be a disaster, and even all the way back in “Lady Wifi” insisted that not telling anyone her identity was “listening to her head and not her heart,” and the narrative has relentlessly humiliated her for going with her heart, so yeah, probably for the best.

I hate that the episode avoids talking about anything identity-related outside of what comes out of Marinette’s mouth to make it appear like it was her choice all along. I hate that they had Tikki fixate on Marinette’s love problems instead of having her actually support Marinette and admit that Marinette should tell someone before she has a mental breakdown. I hate that the episode inserts Rena Rouge into the plot as if to brush all identity issues away so as to make Marinette’s identity reveal seem less jarring.

Now, of course I’m glad Marinette told someone. Of course I want her to get love and support from someone. Of course I think the benefits outweigh the risks, or I wouldn’t have written multiple fix-its where her identity gets revealed in some way or someone already knows.

But I didn’t want it to be Alya, because I knew how they’d do it. I knew they’d do it wrong and I knew that they wouldn’t have the courage to address Alya’s issues properly.

Those familiar with my blog will know that I’d been taking negative predictions for future seasons for a while and adding them to cards whenever they were proven right. Does anyone remember the Season 4 predictions that were proven correct for “Gang of Secrets,” specifically these ones?

- “Alya will suddenly be portrayed as a good/worthy friend to Marinette in/if there's an episode where Marinette tells her that she's Ladybug”

- “Alya resisting Shadow Moth/fighting back against him will be used to excuse telling Alya Marinette's secret identity“

- “Alya will know that Marinette is Ladybug first because "BFFs" despite being one of the worst candidates for it“

- “The secret that broke Lukanette up will be resolved in episode 3 when Marinette tells Alya“

Each and every one of those were mine, because I knew that whether Season 4 had a proper chronological order or not, the writers would not have the guts to develop Alya first and then have Marinette tell her in a future episode after Alya has properly earned it.

I knew that they wouldn’t take time to develop Alya. I knew that they would have Alya resist Shadow Moth to make Alya look “worthy” of the secret. I knew that Alya would swoop in during the last minute and a half of an episode, insisting that Marinette “didn’t have to tell her anything” when Alya had been pushy and insistent for the entire rest of the episode and the whole series in general, and would ultimately be rewarded with the big secret simply because she’s “the best friend” and that’s it.

The Alya at the end of the episode isn’t the Alya I’ve known for the entire rest of the series before this, or at the very least they turned her into an Alya I don’t recognize.

Alya claims during the ending scene that she knows that Marinette is hiding something beyond her love problems because she - as a reporter and “her best friend” - can sense such things, and all I’m left wondering is

w h e r e ?

Where and when has Alya been suspicious or worried about Marinette keeping a secret from her? What, back in “The Pharoah” where she didn’t immediately disregard Marinette for the role of Ladybug, or “Simon Says” where she vaguely teased Marinette about having a double life, both Season 1 episodes?

Where was Alya in “Truth” saying that she didn’t know Marinette’s secret but knew that she was keeping one? Where was Alya anywhere in Season 3 being concerned that Marinette hasn’t told her something? Where was this “supposedly very observant” Alya when Marinette needed her to out Lila because Lila got her expelled--oh wait, Alya “observed” that Lila did nothing and Marinette was just jealous.

What, is it only now that Alya suddenly “knows” that Marinette is hiding something else? Now, after Alya has already not known that Marinette was literally dating someone, even when Alya had multiples pictures of Marinette and said someone giving each other heart eyes and saw Marinette leaving school with said someone riding on the same bike together, you know, like normal, typical, average friends would?

Where’s the line where Alya acknowledges the problem? Where’s Alya sitting down with Marinette and admitting, “hey, I’m sorry I haven’t noticed this stuff, but I promise I’ll do better starting right now, and that’s how I know now that you’re hiding something else, and I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that it’s been hurting you”?

I can’t tell you where it is, but I can say that it’s certainly not in this episode. 60% of the episode features the Alya we knew from the rest of the series and then switches her out the second she’s de-akumatized for another Alya who hasn’t done anything that the old one has because she pretends like it didn’t happen.

You know how I know? Because of this absolute gut punch of a line that showed that the series wanted to handwave everything away.

“I know how to keep a secret.”

...Really? Does she now? Well, I hope everyone remembered my point about “Animan” and “The Puppeteer 2,” because I’m bringing it right back.

Considering that “Truth” has been burned into all of our memories, we all definitely remember when Truth shoots Alya and questions her on Marinette’s secret, to which Alya states that Marinette’s secret is, “She’s in love with Adrien Agreste.” Now, at the time of Season 4′s airing, this is very much not a secret, as most characters already knew about Marinette’s crush, to the point where it’d been broadcast on television during Season 2.

But do you know when it was actually a secret? Back in Season 1, specifically in the episode “Animan” where Alya told Nino.

And not only did she tell Nino, but she lied to Marinette by claiming that she didn’t, acting as if Nino knew that Marinette had a crush but didn’t know who she was crushing on, which is then directly proven false as Nino accidentally implies that he does know who it is. This is also after Alya had gotten on Marinette’s case for trying to set her up with Nino, and then she had the gall to say that she wouldn’t spill Marinette’s secret because she, and I quote, “doesn't go around making decisions for other people,“ a statement that is directly contradicted by this little thing known as everything Alya has ever said and done in the entire series.

And while Marinette meddling in Alya’s love life actually ended up working out for Alya, Alya meddling in Marinette’s by telling Nino who Marinette is crushing on comes back to bite Marinette - not Alya (because of course) - in the infamous episode of “The Puppeteer 2,” where Marinette realizes that Alya really did tell Nino that she was crushing on Adrien.

Marinette: You told me you wouldn't tell Nino!

Alya: I haven't told him. Right, Nino? I didn't tell you anything. (elbows him)

Nino: She didn't tell me. And besides, I told her I wouldn't tell.

Then, when she’s called out on it, Alya lies again, and shamelessly so.

Marinette: Why did you tell Nino everything? You promised you wouldn't!

Alya: I didn't, I swear! Besides, even if I had told him everything, he would still be clueless. Ugh, who cares anyway? I've set everything up with Nino, who doesn't know a thing, so you can finally pour your heart out to Adrien, girl!

And now, here we are one season later - and not even half of a season if you go by production code order - and Alya claims that she knows how to keep a secret.

No. No, she does not. In fact, she does even worse because she won’t even admit when she’s spilled said secret. I absolutely refuse to accept that Alya is “worthy” or “deserving” of learning that Marinette is Ladybug when she couldn’t even keep a basic secret like who her friend was crushing on.

And no, it didn’t matter that Nino was her boyfriend, or that maybe she thought it would work out because Nino was friends with Adrien. By that logic, Alya would tell Adrien that Marinette is Ladybug if she heard that Ladybug is who Adrien was crushing on and we all know how that would’ve gone.

Marinette has a right to tell her secret to whoever she wants and I’m glad that a burden has been lifted from her, but that doesn’t mean I have to be happy that it’s Alya. That doesn’t mean I have to be happy that, after so many moments of Alya disrespecting Marinette’s feelings, she is the one who gets to hear the big secret that the fandom has been waiting for someone to find out about since the very start of the series.

Luka said it best in “Truth” that the truth is meant to be shared, not taken by force, but Marinette was forced to tell Alya by the narrative because Alya is her supposed “best friend.” It pushed Marinette to her breaking point, forced her to break up with the guy who has respected her agency and feelings since the day they met, and gave her a version of her “best friend” with the same name and face but with none of the responsibility from previous events so that said version was there at the right time and the right place to hear what had to be heard.

And in the end, I end up feeling nothing. Marinette doesn’t even have a “Marinette” reaction to saying it as one would expect; for her to blurt it out and then immediately start panicking until Alya hugs her to calm her down. Instead, Marinette just says it and stares silently at Alya - after blabbing this huge, very big deal of a secret - until Alya goes in for a hug (the “happy/hopeful” ending of which is why I feel like this episode also gets less flak, as the previous two ended off rather depressing/upsetting).

It’s off. Everything is off. The pacing, the delivery, and the logic that the episode uses. The emotion in Marinette’s voice when she’s rambling about how hard it is to keep her secret is so powerful, but then the ending hits and she just says it, breaking the momentum they had going. They pulled the card of Alya walking away too soon when they could’ve saved it, having Marinette go quiet and letting Alya take a few steps away in order to let the moment build before Marinette finally blurts out the secret she’s been painfully holding in.

But they didn’t, and I’m so many levels of dissatisfied. I wasn’t against the idea of Alya learning Marinette’s secret at some point (though honestly, Alix would’ve been a better pick considering that Bunnyx will know eventually anyway, and I say that not even liking Alix!), but not now; not when Alya had so much to work towards.

And now what? What happens now? Now Alya will turn against Lila, not because she learned to have faith and believe in Marinette, but because Marinette is Ladybug, which disproves Lila’s ultimate lie that got Alya’s attention in the first place? Now Alya will be supportive and less teasing/mocking whenever Marinette will be late, not because she understands that Marinette isn’t perfect and has so many other things on her mind, but because she’s Ladybug and has “hero stuff” to take care of? Now Alya will be careful about what she puts on the LadyBlog, not because she respected Ladybug and what Ladybug would want, but because Ladybug is now her best friend and that changes everything?

Because now, Alya has a free pass to all of that, the show making her spontaneously “developed” now so they won’t have to develop her later, and disappointing doesn’t even begin to describe it.

#category: salt #episode: Gang of Secrets #other: ml spoilers #category: long post #word count: over 7000 #other: ask and answer #((I know this is long so I did what I did in ''The Puppeteer 2'' where I had pictures to break it up.))

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makeste · 3 years

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save no matter what.

so this is going to ultimately be a post about Deku. however, if you’ll be so kind as to indulge me, I would like to start things off by making a point about Bakugou. specifically, I’d like to point out that back in the day before this kid got Character Development no Jutsu’d, people weren’t always so inclined to view his attitude towards winning in the best light. which is a nice way of saying that he came off as unhealthily obsessed, not to mention more than a little unhinged.

sorry for the image spam btw, I just think they’re funny. he’s so demented lmao. KILL DIE CRUSH.

anyway so we’re gonna do the rest of this below a cut before it gets long. but I promise it really is a Deku post lol. don’t let the pre-readmore stuff fool you. I PROMISE THERE IS A POINT, AND WE WILL GET TO IT.

anyway! so yeah, we really didn’t have the best impression of Bakugou’s whole winning fixation at the beginning there. and I mean, it’s not like we had the best impression of Bakugou himself at the start of things either. we were already primed from the very first chapter to see this kid as an adversary to Izuku. the story goes out of its way to paint him in pretty much the worst light possible. which is why what happens next is so interesting.

because one might see all this and think, “holy heck, this kid is off the shits, somebody needs to set him straight pronto and get it into his head that winning isn’t everything.” because that’s almost the natural conclusion to draw. “look at this kid, he doesn’t care about helping other people at all, all he cares about is winning, someone needs to come along and show him that he’s got it backwards.”

except that’s not what happens, is it? because this is where, much to my delight, Horikoshi came along and started subverting expectations. because not only is Katsuki not rebuked for being so obsessed with winning -- it’s pretty much the exact opposite.

the one and only time Deku ever straight up hands Katsuki’s ass to him is when he says he doesn’t want to win. Deku is IMMEDIATELY all, “THE FUCK KIND OF BULLSHIT DID I JUST HEAR OUT OF YOUR TRASH MOUTH,” and that’s when he sets him straight.

the important people in Katsuki’s life never tell him, “hey you need to cool it with the whole winning thing.” All Might and Aizawa never scold him for it, or tell him that he shouldn’t try with everything he has to win, or that wanting to win is a bad thing. on the contrary, they both commend him for it. and ultimately, he’s told by All Might that this desire is actually one of the two fundamental qualities that every great hero needs.

he completely turns the whole thing on its head. not only is it not a bad thing, it’s actually crucial. essential. because what the desire to win really is, at its core, is tenacity. it’s the fiercest kind of determination. it’s not something he should be ashamed of; it’s something that sets him apart, something that makes him worthy. he is someone who refuses to back down no matter what. refuses to give up, no matter what. and this quality, which is initially misunderstood by some to the point where even the villains mistakenly take him for one of their own in the making, is eventually validated to the fullest degree by the person that Katsuki looks up to the most. his desire to win goes from being this awkward “son wtf are you doing” thing to being one of the core philosophies of the series. and ever since then, we pretty much don’t question it.

so why do I bring this up now? well, the answer to that can basically be summed up in one word.

“parallels.”

so here’s the thing. there’s been a lot of talk lately about Deku’s ridiculous, reckless, and absurdly self-destructive desire to save others while having little to no regard for himself. currently he’s lying in a hospital bed, having broken approximately 218 out of the 206 bones in his little hero body (yes, somewhere along the way he found an additional dozen bones to break). it is worrying. it is Concerning. and it’s raised a lot of questions, such as “???” and “wtf is this idiot doing.”

and a lot of people have been pretty critical of him! this is, of course, an ongoing thing with this child, and people have been giving him grief over it going as far back as chapter 6.

while others have been bothered by it going even further back than that.

and I’ve seen these sentiments being echoed pretty frequently in the fandom as well. and there are basically two talking points that I want to address here. the first is the idea that Deku’s aggressive brand of selflessness stems from an inherent lack of self-worth. in other words, because he prioritizes other people’s safety and well-being above his own, and is willing to go to such drastic lengths to save them, there’s this feeling that he doesn’t value himself enough, that he must not care about himself.

but I don’t think that’s quite it. let’s go back to those parallels first, though. let’s take another look at Kacchan.

what I mainly want to call attention to is the intensity here. again, it’s something that at first strikes most readers as being absurdly over the top. the truth is, I think a lot of people simply can’t relate to it. Katsuki cares about winning with a ferocity and a fervor that most people, for better or worse, simply don’t have. I certainly don’t, lol.

but he does. to him it’s not a shallow, superficial thing at all. it’s important to him, perhaps the most important thing. I think we often talk about it in terms of it being a desire, but imo a more accurate way to define it is not as a want, but as a need. in other words, it’s the opposite of the question “what is it this character wants” (i.e. “what is it they can’t live without”)? instead, it’s a question of “what is it they don’t want” (i.e. “what is it they can’t live with”)?

and in Katsuki’s case, the thing he can’t live with is feeling like he hasn’t tried his absolute best. he needs to give his all in everything he does. he wants to win, but winning just on its own is not enough.

it has to be earned. he has to prove to himself and to everyone else that he deserves it. anything less than that is unacceptable. anything less than that, and he can’t be at ease. he can’t be settled. he can’t rest. and so he puts everything he has into winning, even if it means going to extremes. because it’s that important to him.

it’s something that’s at times alarming and even disturbing for others to witness. but nonetheless, it’s a part of who he is, and at the end of the day his teachers accept that, and the story acknowledges that it’s his greatest strength.

so now, to finally bring this back around to Deku, this is what I keep seeing in his character as well. only in his case, the thing he can’t live with is knowing that he didn’t do everything he possibly could to save someone. or to put it another way, Deku, at his core, is someone who cannot rest until he knows that everyone is safe. simple as that. it’s not just a desire to protect people; it’s a need. he needs to know that everyone is safe and protected. otherwise he can’t be at ease. it’s no different from how normal, everyday people aren’t able to feel at ease unless they know that they are safe and that their loved ones are safe. it’s just that in Deku’s case, this same fundamental need extends to everyone, not just himself and his friends and family. everyone. he can’t live with himself knowing that someone was in trouble, and he had the ability to do something to help, but didn’t. and so, if you literally can’t live with not doing something, you basically have no choice but to do it.

and this is what in my opinion defines Deku’s character. Kacchan, in trying to understand it, noted that Deku doesn’t seem to take himself into account. but I think OFA Prime summed it up a little more accurately. “he rages for the sake of others. for them, he does his best until he can do no more. this young man is possessed by a drive to save others that eclipses all common understanding.”

so yeah. it’s not that he doesn’t care about himself at all, it’s that he cares about others even more. he has that same intensity and ferocity towards saving people that Katsuki has towards winning. and just as it was difficult at first for fans to understand Katsuki’s feelings, it’s hard to fathom the sheer depth of that “save everyone” feeling that compels Deku to break his own body in that pursuit. it’s scary, not to mention extremely destructive and dangerous. and so really, it was almost inevitable that there would be some backlash.

but just like Katsuki’s desire to win was ultimately validated in the end, I think Deku’s desire to save others will be as well. in fact it already is being validated, for starters by the other denizens of OFA, led by Lil Bro as mentioned above. let’s go back for a moment to that same scene.

here we get a huge hint that “Deku gets taken down a notch and chewed out and scolded for his recklessness” is not, in fact, the direction that the story is going in. because in general, when the main villain starts mocking the hero and saying that they’ve done something wrong, that’s a very good sign that said hero is actually on the exact right track. like, no offense, but as far as character critiques go, AFO is probably the least qualified person in the entire manga to start offering those up lol. so yeah. if AFO is denouncing Deku for something, and OFA Prime is praising him for that exact same thing, I think it’s safe to say that means he is in fact doing something very, very right.

“okay but makeste, he nearly got himself killed and broke all of his arms AND legs and is now lying in a fucking coma,” you say, gesturing emphatically to the last page of chapter 298. “so I mean, that’s all well and good that Wonder Boy has the best of intentions and all that, but at the end of the day he’s only one kid. he literally can’t save everyone, and if he pulls one or two more stunts like this, he’s going to get himself killed.”

and okay, but this here is the other talking point that I wanted to address. because it’s true, Deku does need to learn a specific lesson here. but that lesson is NOT that he can’t save everyone. this is a superhero story, guys -- “you can’t save everyone” is never going to be the underlying message, ever. it’s the OPPOSITE of the message. Deku is the hero because he tries to save everyone. because he doesn’t give up on saving people no matter what. that is literally the core of the story. it has been since the very first chapter.

so then what is it that Deku actually needs to learn here? well, once again, it all comes back to those parallels.

btw, I really just love how he’s carrying Katsuki there lol. he’s just so done with him.

but anyway. so, the final exam arc. Katsuki initially wants to win at all costs -- but there’s a hitch. because even though he wants to win, he refuses to do so while working with Deku. enter Deku’s left hook, and one impromptu Rival Encouragement Speech later, our boy has thankfully come to his senses.

but here’s the point -- the lesson here wasn’t “you can’t always win.” rather, the lesson that Katsuki needed to learn was that you can’t always win alone.

yeah. so now you can see what I’m getting at here.

“...on your own.”

that’s the key. this is the one and only thing that Deku actually needs to get into his head. wanting to save everyone is fine! his will to save others has never been a weakness -- it’s been the most admirable thing about him from day one. it’s what makes him strong. it’s why All Might chose him. it’s why OFA has chosen him. it’s what sets him apart, and I firmly believe it’s what will ultimately help him save the day and defeat AFO as well. because what other character would look at Shigaraki Tomura, the person who just impaled his friend and destroyed an entire city, and instinctively reach out a hand to try and save him? and if you don’t think that’s going to wind up being key to the final battle, you and I have very different ideas about this series’ endgame.

Deku’s determination to save everyone isn’t arrogance or futility. it is and always has been his greatest strength. but what he’s missing now, what he needs to learn, is simply to trust. y’all might have seen that theory about the Fourth’s quirk, and why All Might was so hesitant to tell Deku about it. basically, the theory (which is based on an attempted translation of the crossed-out parts of All Might’s OFA notebook) goes that the Spidey Sense was so overwhelming that the Fourth -- whose cause of death was one of the things crossed out -- eventually couldn’t bear it, and went to live alone in the middle of the woods somewhere. and possibly wound up killing himself?? all of which is just speculation right now of course. but it makes sense. and it would certainly explain why All Might, being all too aware of Deku’s self-destructive tendencies, would keep that from him.

but if this is the case, that means it’s clear that the Fourth’s solution didn’t work. “give up and accept that you can’t save everyone” clearly is NOT the answer to be had here.

the answer is trust. trust that his fellow heroes have his back. trust that they’ll be able to help him reach the people he’s not able to reach on his own. trust that they can work together to save everyone. that he doesn’t have to rest the entire world on his shoulders alone.

it’s the one lesson that All Might, his predecessor and his teacher, never learned himself until it was too late. but of course, All Might never had a prickly and determined rival who was ready to step in and deal out some tough love if need be. a rival who, perhaps, just might soon get a chance to repay an old favor.

“I don’t wanna hear you say you can’t save someone.”

I’m just saying. just as Deku has been watching Katsuki all this time, and admiring his determination to win, and emulating it himself, so has Katsuki recently begun to emulate Deku’s determination to save others. we’ve seen it not just in his recent act of self-sacrifice, but even in little things like his habits and tricks of speech. just like Katsuki is Deku’s image of victory, Deku is becoming Katsuki’s image of saving others.

and so I’ll bet you anything that if Deku ever starts to doubt himself, or starts feeling like his dream and desires are futile, Kacchan will be there to set him straight with a good old fashioned Rival Encouragement Speech of his own. possibly with his own left hook to match, though his left shoulder is currently out of sorts atm so he might need to modify that approach a little bit. but the point is, he’ll be there. and he will not allow Deku to give up on himself. he will be there to remind him that he doesn’t have to face this alone.

so yeah! finally managed to wrap up my giant Deku meta which I’ve been working on for ages and rewritten like fifteen times lmao. just in time for this to be relevant for all of a day, probably, depending on what happens once chapter 279 drops lol. but yeah. tl;dr, local boy tries to do too much, but his heart is in the right place, and hopefully all he really needs is a good pep talk from his tsundere bff to set him to rights again. r.i.p. to the Fourth, but he’s different.

#bnha 298 #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #bnha meta #deku meta #bakugou meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years

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Starkid Musicals Ranked from Worst to Best

Salutations to you, random people on the internet who most certainly won’t read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

Welp. I finally did it. I've watched the entire Starkid musical library, and I must say, most of these plays fit my writing style perfectly:

Humor that is cynical yet random

Leaning in with comedy while sprinkling in some well-executed drama

An understanding that any type of story works as long as the cast of varying personalities of characters is dynamic enough to result in some phenomenal chemistry.

This is in almost all of their plays, excelled through fantastic writing and stellar performances driving the overall quality. And it inspired me not only to review each musical, but also ranking them all from worst to best. Or, more accurately, least good to most good. Because even at their "worst," Starkid still provides a funny, enjoyable experience that will keep you laughing with its comedy and your toes tapping with its catchy music. So strap in as I go in-depth into how Starkid proves how they are the masters of humor and melody.

(I'll also provide links to each musical, which is all for free on YouTube, so you can check them out yourselves. Just know that their early work is impossible to enjoy without subtitles, so you might want to have Closed Captions on when watching.)

#12-Holy Musical B@man-Everything about this play makes it seem like it's the weakest to me. The jokes, songs, and characters in Holy Musical B@tman just don't hit as hard as Starkid's other plays. It's still good, but compared to their best, the cracks show a lot more. That is, except for the ending. Not only is there a great speech that shows what makes superheroes so beloved, but "Super Friends" might just be my favorite finale song Starkid has ever put out. Holy Musical B@tman may not be the best, but it's at least worth the time.

#11-Firebringer-This was stupid. Really stupid. Funny as f**k, but still pretty stupid. Although I will give credit to one of the central pairings being LGBTQA+...Even though it makes little to no sense based on the characters' previous interactions. But in fairness, Starkid really sucks at writing good romantic relationships, so at least Firebringer has the benefit of being gay. And as we all know: The gayer, the better. The play is still stupid, though.

#10-Me and My Dick-The world in this musical makes little to no sense. Penises and vaginas are sentient and can communicate with their humans. And yet the penises and vaginas can also talk with each other, form relationships, leave their humans, and reinsert themselves into others--Yeah, it makes no sense...But, DAMN, is it funny! Every joke and innuendo Me and My Dick has about human anatomy works, and I could not stop laughing at each of them. Especially the names that were given to the vaginas, which are just...I mean, I'm laughing just by thinking about them. That should tell you how funny they are. This play might be illogical in every way, but if you turn your brain off and watch it for the humor, you'll definitely be in for something fun.

#9-ANI: A Parody-What's weird about ANI is that its best qualities are also weaknesses. A good chunk of the jokes are hilarious and expertly delivered. The issue is that most of them are about taking potshots at the Star Wars prequels, which might be the laziest jokes to make in a Star Wars parody. Then there's the soundtrack, having several songs that are a bop to listen to. The problem is that ANI suffers from the same issues as Tarzan and Brother Bear: Yes, technically, it is a musical, but it's one where none of the characters sing, and some people in the background do all the singing instead. It's all an odd balancing act of quality content made through questionable choices. ANI is still an entertaining play, but the force isn't as strong with this one.

#8-Black Friday-This might be the least funny play that Starkid has ever put out. Not just because it leans extra hard into drama, which was pretty effective during certain scenes. It's just when there are jokes in Black Friday, they tend to fall flatter more here than they did in other plays. Also, the plot of Black Friday might not be the best one to play straight. The serious moments work best when focusing on the characters and their personal struggles, but through the big bad that's supposed to be threatening? Not so much. Even if it was meant to be funny, well, I wasn't laughing. And believe it or not, I consider that to be the best judge of whether or not something is funny. That being said, while Black Friday isn't the most humorous Starkid musical, it's still pretty good. The characters are excellent, the songs are awesome, and the story is somewhat easy to follow. I would have appreciated a few more laughs, but I can respect these talented people wanting to challenge their strengths.

#7-Starship-This play feels very...Disney. It follows a familiar formula we've seen several times: The main character wants more than what he has in his crappy life, miraculously gets the exact thing he wants, falls in love with a girl in a short amount of time, faces off against a campy/over the top villain, realizes the hand he's been dealt isn't so bad, and in the end, gets what he wants anyway. Starship is still pretty entertaining through its jokes, characters, and songs, but it also feels weird that Starkid leans into these tropes when they would eventually make a much better play by making fun of them. The end result is not bad in the slightest, but it's also nowhere near their best.

#6-A Very Potter Musical-Starkid's first production, and boy, what a start to something wonderful. Every one of their gimmicks and motifs is present in A Very Potter Musical. The use of parody to playfully mock characters and stories they love, making songs that are as funny as they are emotional, and creating characters that work because of their lines and the actors' performances. Oh, and also, it's funny. And it’s not just through a parody angle, like making Cedric be a perfect boy who's always smiling. It's also funny through its jokes that work, even if you ignore the fact that it’s a parody altogether. Case in point, there are these two bits, one involving Voldemort and Beatrix with the other involving Ron and Hermoine, that are written and delivered so well that I was in tears much more than with any other Starkid play. When watching A Very Potter Musical, you'll not only understand how parody works, but you'll also gain an understanding of why Starkid turned out as successful as they did.

#5-The Trail to Oregon-What can I say? I'm a sucker for comedic dysfunctional families. And seeing a family of idiots make their way to Oregon via The Oregon Trail parody? Yeah, that's a win for me. The play may be another family road trip narrative, which some people might get sick of at this point. But because the dynamics and comedic chemistry everyone has with each other are on point, the end result proves that you don't need an original story to tell an entertaining one. Although I will say that out of all of Starkid's productions, The Trail to Oregon has by far the worst ending. Without giving anything away, the play spends way too much time on this one stupid joke that any of the characters could make. Comedy is defined by personalities, as are most things, so making the joke work for anyone is a bad move when this one, in particular, doesn't fit as well for some characters as it would for others. Plus, the finale song "Naked in a Lake" is a really poor choice to cap off this musical. It's catchy, but to me, a finale song should encapsulate everything about the story, characters, and themes. Not paying off a joke that I honestly wouldn't want the payoff for. So while the ending could have used a lot more polish, that doesn't change how The Trail to Oregon is a pretty funny play that I won't mind revisiting when I have the chance.

#4-A Very Potter Sequel-Hey, sometimes a sequel is better than the original. Sure some jokes don't land, and some story beats aren't as impactful as they thought they were (Serious Black's introduction, for example), but there are far more improvements to this play than the last one. The performances are stronger, the jokes are funnier, the music is catchier, and the characters are much more entertaining in this play than in A Very Potter Musical. Especially new additions like Lupin and Lucious Malfoy, who provide great comedy and sublime drama at times. And Umbridge. Sweet Mother of all that is holy, Umbridge. While A Very Potter Sequel never made me laugh to tears as the first play did, twice, Professor Umbridge carries the comedy so well that she surpasses all of that. Plus, on top of it all, this play nails its ending through a bittersweet note that really captures what makes Hogwarts so special to these characters. I always feel like Starkid's plays tend to lose steam during the last few minutes, but A Very Potter Sequel is one of the few instances that it just builds and builds to a perfect ending. A Very Potter Sequel might not always hit the right marks, but the results are just magical when it does get it right.

#3-The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals-This one is pretty clever. The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals is one of those stories that manages to be explicitly hilarious yet implicitly disturbing. For instance, people suddenly bursting into perfectly choreographed musical numbers in a world where songs are exclusively diegetic is pretty funny (especially through the characters' reactions to it). However, knowing what happens to these people and why they sing and dance so expertly helps make the whole situation pretty dire. It's an excellent balancing act that not many stories can accomplish. And while The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals leans one way or the other at times, it's still all handled really well. Oh, and also, you know how most people say the villain song is the best one in any musical? Well, technically speaking, nearly every song in The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals is the villain song. Including the finale, which is just too brilliant for me not to give a round of applause. If you're a person who unfortunately doesn't like musicals either, I'd say be more than willing to give this one a chance. It's funny, catchy, and if you think of the implications, pretty damn disturbing.

#2-A Very Potter Senior Year-...You know how Avengers: Endgame is a bit of a mess, yet people still love it for how much of a perfect (sort of) finale it is? It's the same regard with A Very Potter Senior Year in my eyes. It's far from a masterpiece, but the many, many solid scenes that cap off this series help make me willing to overlook the mistakes. The characters, callbacks, and overall message about how things end was done so expertly well that I physically can’t hate this one. I can understand how it's more of an ok play when compared to the rest of Starkid's productions, but sometimes, ok is wonderful.

#1-Twisted: An Untold Story of a Royal Vizier-...It's Twisted. Everyone loves Twisted! And how could they not? Everything about this play just screams Starkid at their best. The comedy is uproarious, added with the fantastic delivery of the actors and the characters' personalities. Everyone feels as though they have one step in reality and the other in insanity. This, to me, seems like the best type of character work when going for the parody angle. Parody is about giving slight yet snide remarks toward the work you're mocking, which I feel works best when characters drop the suspension of disbelief audiences have when enjoying such a story. And Twisted definitely nails its satire in not only poking fun at Aladdin but also making jokes towards Disney as a brand. From their movies to their inside jokes to their formulas to even their corporate dealings with Pixar, nothing about Disney is sacred in Twisted. But on top of being funny, Twisted might just be the most successful Starkid has been with telling some really compelling drama. The jokes allow themselves to take a back seat to let serious moments play out, and even comedy is added, it provides more for the experience rather than taking anything away. You see this not only through the actors giving it their all but even through some really gorgeous and heart wrenching musical numbers. Oh, and also, Twisted has the best Starkid soundtrack, featuring songs that are epic, funny, and, as I said, heartbreaking. You cannot get better than this and, if you want to get a friend interested in Starkid as a whole, this might be the play for them. Scheherazade may have a thousand tales, but his one is a tale I wouldn't mind hearing for a thousand nights.

And that's about how I feel about Starkid and each and every one of their plays. Odds are your ranking would be much different from mine, and I'm all for that differing opinions. Feel free to make your own ranking if you want because I'm honestly curious where fans would place these plays above or below others. I'm relatively new to enjoying their work, so I have no idea what the consensus is. I do know one thing, though: If Starkid can still be incredibly entertaining through over ten years of content, then I am excited to see what they can accomplish next in another ten years.

#starkid #holy musical b@man #firebringer #me and my dick #ani: a parody #black friday #a very potter trilogy #the trail to oregon #the guy who didn't like musicals #twisted: the untold story of a royal vizier

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starsailorstories · 3 years

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I’ve mentioned the grammatical registers of Altamaian here and there but I just now pulled together Info About Them and I’m really excited to share it because it’s one of the main ways it differs from Latin (which it’s a predecessor of in the SC universe) and also just a fun bit of worldbuilding that informs a lot of exchanges in the stories

Modern Standard Altamaian is notable for the way its grammar and vocabulary change based on social context and the expressive style of the particular speaker. Obviously the best Earth analog to this is probably Japanese, but Altamaian differs in that registers are conveyed solely through highly regular affixes and changes in syntax, rather than that + whole new polite forms of words. Shifts to simpler or flowerier vocabulary occur with shifts in speaking style just as in English, but they are not a grammatical part of the register--one can speak in a very formal register and use very simple language and vice versa. While some features exist in more than one register and features of different registers are often mixed to convey a particular tone, the basic divisions are:

Casual/direct: The most notable feature of direct speech in Altamaian is that it tends to be more topic-forward, ironically similar to Classical Syfrae considering its association with the uneducated masses. It uses direct forms of words with few augmentative or diminutive affixes (although there are exceptions in dialect/slang), direct address of listeners, and few separate subject words (relying on verb conjugation to indicate who is doing what). Commonly used among friends or, among the lower lumini, overtures to strangers which may range from friendly to aggressive (to put it in English terms, “Hey I love your outfit”, “Watch out for the snowplow back there!”, and “Put your turn signal on dumbass!” would all, when directed at strangers, be direct-register phrases). Also used for statements aimed at a general audience, such as announcements. Traffic and regulatory signs in the Rings use this register, breaking with the tradition on the planets of the Four Suns of using the formal/polite register (below)--this has led to a lot of memery amongst residents of the old cities around translating them as much more vulgar than they actually are (THE GAP, BITCH! MIND IT!)

Formal/polite: This is actually the most commonly used register for many people, as it tends to be expected of students and in public and professional life, as well as in most media properties funded by the aristocracy. The weirdly hint-of-gender concept of “gentlemaidenliness” is quite bound up with this type of speech although not everyone who uses it would be identified as such--it’s started to be a bit more class-flexible because this is a dying breed but it USED to mean “unbound (and thus not using humble speech) colony-daughter who works for her living (and thus not using benevolent speech) but is nonetheless the Right Sort of People (and thus not using direct speech).” Despite retaining most of the inflections of the regular grammar, polite speech uses rigid SOV word order in the second and third person and OSV word order in the first (so you’re always putting the other person first--an element it shares with humble speech, although formal speech is usually used between strangers/those without any particular relationship regardless of the social status of either speaker) and subject pronouns are generally included. The speaker will still usually address the listener directly unless she is of vastly higher social status (in which case you’d better have a good reason to be speaking to her at all).

Humble (“admiring”): this register goes a step beyond polite speech and emphasizes the humility of the speaker while showing respect--sometimes quite impassioned respect--to the listener. It retains many traits of the polite register like “others first” word order, but in addition, the listener is never referred to by a second-person pronoun--only by a formal address title or phrase, or in the third person--and the speaker will use only diminutive words (including diminutive forms of verbs) to refer to herself, her equals, and her own actions, while referring to the listener with augmentatives. This type of speech is often used in a official context--formal appeals for grants or workers’ benefits, tax papers for businesses, and legal documents all generally exhibit some amount of it, as they’re necessarily addressed from commoners to nobles--yet it remains heavily associated with courtly love, and is often found in romantic sentiments between apparent social equals, especially (you saw this coming didn’t you?) when one party has screwed things up and is trying to salvage them. Although it’s not a formal rule, this register is also associated with phrases and modifiers that qualify one’s statements, akin to the English “I think” although a more accurate translation would be “in my humble opinion,” if a less formal version of that phrase existed in modern English usage.

“Loquelita” or cute humble speech: a subset of humble speech makes use of intensifying reduplication (the exact equivalent of saying “I am so so so so glad” except you do it to the main adjective not the modifier: I am glad glad glad!), doubles up or repeats diminutive and augmentative affixes, and draws vocabulary from youthful and childhood vernacular as well as archaic recitations which are standard knowledge among educated Basilean citizens. This is most often heard in contexts of delicisma or other direct relationships between a high-status lady and a significantly younger and lower-status hanger-on, although it’s associated with literal children (if you’re at a fancy private school this is how you ask your teacher if you can end the lesson early and play heads up seven up lol) and seen as a bit degrading past a certain age and above a certain career level, not to mention inappropriate with superiors who don’t already know and love you. Basically if you’re going to use the “you know how i’m your most favoritest and you love me so much” register variant you’d better be pretty sure the answer isn’t going to be “no? leave.”

Benevolent: Used by high-status leaders (nobles, politicians, some powerful commoners although usually not until their PR consultant tells them to) to speak to or about their inferiors. In Altamaian, “aiko”--the equivalent to the Latin “ego” subject pronoun--is a way of referring to oneself in an official capacity of rulership akin to the royal “we,” although it can be used by anyone in a circumstance where “I” or “me” would be the only word in the sentence (like “Who moved this?” “Me”). The use of this pronoun and of SVO word order are considered proper for describing decisions made from the top of the hierarchy for the (alleged) good of others; such descriptions will also generally use the formal-benefactive noun case to describe the object. Augmentative affixes for such actions, and diminutive ones for those of the listener(s), are also characteristic.

Familiar: Also sometimes called “soft register,” this is commonly used by parents speaking to children and for reassuring or emotional exchanges between close friends or lovers. Familiar word order is often (though not always) object-first: an example is the most accurate Altamaian translation of the English “I love you,” “Esti quos amo,” literally “It is you that I love.” Diminutives are often used for both the speaker and the listener (but not others), and a special set of affectionate subject pronouns may be employed.

Intimate: Some people consider certain forms that can occur in familiar speech a sub-register known as “intimate speech,” reserved for intense moments and relationships. This mode retains the word order and affectionate diminutives but mostly drops pronouns in reference to the listener and employs an archaic, general first-person verb conjugation that blurs the line between “you” and “we”. It is almost always more direct than familiar speech and can be used to express passionate anger or hurt. This means Altamaian has the imo EXCELLENT feature of having a way to say “I love you” REALLY HARD, and it’s just “amaei”, one word, four vowels, GREAT for screaming out windows.

#conlangs #writing #sweet chariot

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

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Hiii 🥺 if i could ask, how do you outline your works in general? books, short stories, one shots? What are the differences? 🥺🥺

Hey I love this-- here's a little walk through of what I do. Bear in mind I do really heavy outlines-- lets go through it all, okay? It's not as daunting as it may seem

Click keep reading to see an extensive guide to outlining stories!

Books!

So I'm going to use the Maze Runner re-write I'm working on (no one steal my shit I will be sad)

First off, I get all my templates from Evernote they have some really great templates and they range from when you want to plan a little bit and when you want to plan a lot, here is the link !!!! I recomend highly!

I start with the basics. Title, genre, series (yes or no), premise, setting. I add a box to keep my dates (if you see, I'm not good at filling them in, thank god docs keeps a history so I can later. This isn't necessary I just think its fun-- like a scrapbook of my progress!)

I then add a story premise template-- this one's important!!! It's like the shortest summary for when you need to go back while writing and remember things quickly. I add details like slang (ex: the maze runner uses terms that are made up so I need to remember to use them when writing), the main events (inciting and conflict will do), and my main goal!

After this you can choose to add which template will work best for planning the story. Some people choose to do the characters first but I, in this case, chose story because I am drawing off a series that already exists and plan to stick relatively close to that. In any other case I might have planned characters first but it's up to you!

The templates for planning your story range from very in depth to not at all-- I'll lay them out for you and you can choose the best for you!

The least in depth (derived from screenwriting, this method offers just a brief outline of what you want to write, leaves a lot of room for movement as you write) : Story Beats

More in depth but not crazy (goes through all the main parts of your book, lets you focus closer to the details singularly as opposed to part of a whole, a happy middle) : 3-Act Structure

The most in depth, full crazy (plan every chapter, the exact way you want things to plan, note: you may do this and then get thrown a curve ball while writing but that is OK!) : Chapter Outline

Here is an example of my chapter outlines (again, people, don't steal my shit please I beg do not)

As you can see-- I do all the outlines LOL but this is the only one worth showing and it's the only one I focus on when I write. These are about as detailed as I get-- it's important to leave room for your characters to breathe. This is as much their story as it is yours-- if they're trying to do something you should let them do it. Natural flow is always best.

Next I dive into characters (again, you can do this first-- this is like cooking, there's a recipe but season things how you prefer to make it your own!)

First I start with a simple breakdown : The Character Master List

This includes main characters, antagonists, additional characters

An example below :)

After this I get wild-- I only do this with my protagonist(s) (in this case Ellie and Gally) and I go as in depth as I can. Every little thing I can think of about my characters gets written down. To write a book is to know your characters better than you know yourself. Their likes, dislikes, motivations, nervous habits, sleep schedules, every freckle and mole-- all of it. If you know your characters, you know your story. If you love your characters, you love your story.

Here is the template I use, again I strongly recommend : Character Profile / things I added

(On the templates (it's a dousy): full name, age, occupation, situation, motivation, height, build, skin tone, hair, eyes, facial description, prominent features / distinguishing marks, style of dress, mannerisms / gestures, how they perceive themself, one word used to describe themself, one paragraph, self perceived best personality trait / worst trait, self perceived best physical trait / worst trait, how they think others see them, something they would change about themself, one of voice, language / accent, fave phrases, personality, habits, ambition, greatest fear, biggest secret, how does this character get along with other characters, where they were born / grew up, important past events, family, current home, finances, occupation, education, health, religion, interests / hobbies, opinion of people in general, does the character hide their emotions from others?, person they hate most, best friends, love interests, person they go to for advice, person they feel responsible for, person character feels awkward around, person character openly admires, person character secretly admires, most important to character at the beginning / end)

See example, do not steal example (I know, redundant, but necessary)

Finally after characters I move on to world building. This is important! You need to understand the location and time so that you can write an accurate (or not) story!

Again, here is the template : Worldbuilding Basics

(On the templates: story location, time period, climate, geography, borders / what's beyond, architecture style, how do people get around, distinctive sights / sounds / smells, how many people live there, where do they live, how do they make a living, is the economy healthy, what is family life like, history of the place, the political situation, who are the leaders, the languages spoken, how do the people dress, what role does religion / superstition play, what holidays are important, what's the food like, what are the forms of entertainment, how do the younger generations differ from the old)

From here the rest is up to you, these are the things I recommend. As you can see from my screenshots, I do a lot for my planning.

Some other things you can think to incorporate are:

- General ideas (a place to keep things you need to remember while writing: themes, reoccurring motifs and metaphors, notes, scene ideas)

- Things to remember while writing (like general ideas but also not, a place to add notes about your characters, I like to write their habits here and keep it open while writing so that my characters remain somewhat consistent)

- Movie Script (For fanfiction books; I usually write my own dialogue but sometimes the movie does a good job of summing the basics, Ex: Alby goes over the basics of the glade and it made more sense to give him those lines again, can save you heartache)

Annnnnd that's all I do for books-- the outline I shared is about forty pages LOL so it's a lot but in my experience it's worth it!! Again, do what suits you always but this is what I find works.

Short Stories!

Usually my short stories are a very summed up version of the books. I do the chapter outlines and a very basic outline of the characters. In this case what I usually do is put it all in one doc-- outline and work as one.

This is the best example I can use without outing important story details. On the left you can see the headings of each chapter-- I recommend using these so you aren't stuck scrolling helplessly through long fics (trust me, after 25k words it gets insane).

Each of these, as noted above, I flesh out the basic scene set up of the chapter. It helps me keep the goal of what I want to convey so I don't trail off (I have a habit of doing that).

The final thing I recommend is SideNote-- it's a life saver.

Once enabled it allows you to write notes that you can see while writing in order to keep your story consistent. It has and will continue to come in handy!

One Shots!

I don't plan these at all LMFAO

Okay, kidding a little bit? It isn't worth showing because all it is is the basic outline of what I want to write and then I just attack it head on. One shots I usually just write and write and write and let it flow. They serve a purpose at the moment and thus are best written in the moment. My best advice here is to just let go-- you'll thank yourself for it!

I hope this helps, nonnie, and I hope whatever you write is as wonderful as you are! Thanks for trusting me enough to come for advice!!

#Dizzy answers #writblr #writing help #writing tips

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vannahfanfics · 2 years

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Drops of Jupiter

Category: Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Hanta Sero, Mina Ashido

Additional Tags: College AU, Soulmate AU

Hey, everyone! I am happy to present my story for the BNHA Soulmates Big Bang! I had a great time working with my partner @greygerbil, so be sure to check out their beautiful art!

Hanta’s eyes were lidded as he leaned his head back over the bus stop bench, staring up at the sky. It was a smudge of whites and grays, not a speck of blue to be found— that was the color of the sky, right? Blue? Hanta wouldn’t know. He lived in a world of monochrome, white and gray and black, just tones of the same old song and dance— just like everyone who had yet to find their soulmate in the vast, vast world.

Hanta was one of the particularly unlucky ones. Although you couldn’t see color until you met your soulmate, you could see color in places your soulmate had touched— that was how a lot of people found their soulmates. However, Hanta had never seen not a single speck of color in his entire life. He was still young, a fresh-out-of-high-school eighteen-year-old about to start university— but that didn’t make it sting any less when his friends touted their soulmates about. He tried not to be bitter about it; it wasn’t like they could help it. Still, as he stared up at the same gray sky he’d been watching his whole life, he couldn’t help but wonder when he would see that brilliant blue everyone spoke of.

Hanta glanced down at the loud squeal of brakes, spotting the city bus trundling down the way towards him. He rose from the bench, stretching his arms above his head with a small groan, and then picked up the grocery bags resting at his feet. Laden with all the college essentials— instant ramen, energy drinks, sodas, beef jerky— the plastic stretched as Hanta hooked them around his left elbow so he could fish his student identification out of his wallet. University students got free fare around town as long as they showed the driver their ID. He flashed it as he hopped up the steps, bags banging against his side, and then slipped it back into his pocket while he walked down the aisle. He found a free seat and piled his bags into the aisle seat, then plunked down at the window.

He stared through the glass as the bus got moving again, watching the landscape of gray pass by. He’d move towns to attend university, so it was a new atmosphere for him even if it was the same smudge of color— or lack thereof, more accurately. He pressed his cheek against the pane, breath fogging a small oval of the glass as he just watched that same mess of gray roll by. Just as his eyes were drooping shut, lulled into drowsiness by the hum of the bus engine and the quiet chatter, something not gray flashed in his vision.

He sat up with a start, hazy eyes struggling to focus. It was already gone, and despite his attempt to crane his head and look back, he couldn’t find it. But he could have sworn that he saw it, just for the briefest of moments, a spark of color outside the flower shop— a bloom bobbing in the breeze as it rested in a flower box on the windowsill. Half-gray, half-something else, just a splash of not gray where fingertips had brushed ever-so-softly across the petals.

Could I have imagined it? Hanta wondered, sinking back into his seat with wide eyes. How would that be possible, though? How could he imagine colors that he had never seen? He groaned, leaning his head in his hand as a dull headache began to throb within his skull from the strain of thinking so hard. He squashed the urge to get off the bus and go back to check— he had milk in the bags, too, and he’d hate for it to begin to congeal or something. Still, he thought of that strange bloom, that strange color, the whole ride back to the university.

He was still thinking about it when he finally trudged back into his dorm room, and he must have been wearing his confusion on his face, because his roommate Denki spun around in his gaming chair to ask, “Yo, man, what’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I might have,” Hanta said quietly, setting the grocery haul on his bed. When Denki made a confused noise, Hanta continued, “I think I saw color for the first time.”

“What? Really?” Denki cried, jumping up from the gaming chair and nearly wrenching his headphones out of his controller in his haste. He tossed both down into the chair to scamper up to Hanta, who was loading the snacks into their small set of cabinets. “Are you sure, dude?” he insisted while grabbing the drinks and squatting in front of the mini-fridge to load them onto the shelves.

“I’m not sure,” Hanta admitted, stopping his movements while still holding a package of ramen. “But… I can’t get it out of my head. I should have gone back to check,” he sighed, throwing the ramen down to flop onto the bed. His feet dangled a few inches from the floor as he wormed into the pillows so he could release a loud scream. Denki stood to pat his back comfortingly, giving him a soothing tut.

“Don’t worry about it, man! If you really did see it, that means your soulmate lives in town! I’m sure you’ll find more colors soon, and then your soulmate!” he encouraged. Hanta just groaned into the downy pillows, the sound muffled by the feathery cotton within. Still, Denki’s optimism always had a way of dragging him out of the deepest of ruts. Hanta slipped back off the bed, snapback askew on his head from his wallowing. As he straightened it out, he gave his best friend a grateful smile.

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem, man!” Denki grinned and slapped him on the back. “Wanna play a couple rounds with me?” he then asked, motioning to the racing game still paused on their ginormous flat-screen television— which was sitting on the floor, because what college student could afford both a sick TV setup and something to put it on? Hanta grinned, always cheered up at the prospect of kicking Denki’s ass at video games. He hopped in his own gaming chair and wheeled up, grabbing his controller.

“All right, you’re on, but don’t go cryin’ to Kyoka when I whip your tail!”

“Not that you’ll beat me, but if I go cryin’ to Kyoka, she might give me a kiss,” Denki grinned, sticking his tongue out from between his teeth. Hanta should have known better to throw Kyoka into his teasing, because Denki was absolutely whipped for his girl. As he got his controller set up, Hanta thought of the strange half-colored bloom he caught a glimpse of on the bus. Sometime soon, would Denki be able to tease him about being whipped himself?

He hoped so. A gray world was pretty lonely.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Ugh!” Hanta groaned as he sank down on a bench, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. “Who knew getting a business degree would be such a bore?” Hanta aspired to open up his own graphic tee design company, but man, he didn’t realize all the technicalities and financials that went along with that. At least his art minor wasn’t a total bust. Hanta groaned again while he sat up, unzipping his backpack to look at all the papers shoved down within— syllabi and assignments and notes. “They ain’t kiddin’ when they say college is a whole different beast,” he grumbled, pulling out a random paper to look at it.

It didn’t take long for his interest to lapse, as math calculations weren’t exactly the most entertaining thing on the planet, so he slipped the paper back into his bag. He put his head on his hands, elbows on his knees, and allowed himself a moment to decompress. He was sitting in the campus’ main thoroughfare, a four-way conglomeration of pathways with a fountain at the center. The water gurgled as it streamed from several dandelion-shaped arrangements in the long, rectangular cement fountain. Amidst the babbling, he could hear the pleasant conversation of passersby and songbirds whistling in the bushes. He even caught the faint wisps of coffee wafting on the breeze as students carried them from the library, probably taking a small walk after hours of homework and studying.

Hanta lifted his head, running his hands over his eyes. As his fingers tugged down his bottom eyelids, he happened to look at the trashcan next to the bench across from him— and he froze.

Is… Is that?

He slowly rose from the bench, almost scared that if he moved too quickly, the small splash of color in his vision would vanish. Like he was approaching a startled animal, he slowly walked across the cobblestoned pathway, heel-to-toe, heel-to-toe. Though he expected it to get up and spring away, it didn’t; the coffee cup perched precariously on the edge of the trash can waited patiently for him to arrive. He picked it up, eyes wide in wonder, and spun it slowly in his hands. There, against the bright white of the paper, he could see two stripes of decidedly not gray running the circumference of the cup.

“H-hey, excuse me!” He flagged down the next person to walk by, trying not to look too crazed though his heart was jumping out of his chest. “Have you found your soulmate yet?” The girl smiled bashfully and nodded, apparently catching on to what had Hanta so agitated. He pointed to one of the bands on the cup and feverishly asked, “Do you know what color this is?”

“It’s green, dark green,” the girl informed him, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, have you found something that your soulmate has touched? I’m excited for you!”

Hanta smiled shyly, then looked back at the cup and murmured under his breath, “Dark green.” It was dark, and he probably could have mistaken it for a dark gray if he hadn’t been paying much attention. “Green… What other kinds of things are green?” he asked the girl, giving her an apologetic look. “I-If you don’t mind, I’m sorry, I’m just really—”

“Excited?” she finished with a small laugh. Her poofy black hair piled atop her head in a loose bun bounced with the movement. “Don’t worry! You’re not bothering me at all. Now, what things are green?”

The girl, who revealed her name to be Momo, told him everything she could about the color green— mostly that it was associated with plants, so all the grass around him was green, and the leaves on the bushes and trees, and lots more. The logo of the coffee company housed in their library used the shade of green Hanta was seeing as their color scheme. Unfortunately, they could find no name on the coffee cup; Momo explained that on slow days, the baristas didn’t bother to write down the names since they knew exactly which customer to hand it to. It disappointed Hanta a little, but it still wasn’t a total loss.

She likes lattes, he thought with a soft smile as he read the order on the cup. With almond milk and caramel flavor. Despite the fact he had no name, he still felt like he knew a little more about his soulmate now. When he got home, he set the empty coffee cup on the corner of his desk— the only splash of color in his monochrome world, those bands of dark green and that hint of caramel latte the only hint of his soulmate. But she was here, on this campus, and Hanta would follow those little colorful breadcrumbs as far as he needed to.

But damn, he didn’t think it would take so long.

He squatted down, eye-level with the bubble of color spilling across the edge of the library table. It was a soft, warm honey-brown, or so Momo— his new color confidante— had told him. She’d given him her phone number, eager to watch his journey to find his soulmate to develop, and so he’d been sending her pictures of the random colored objects he found. He edged from side to side, observing the ribbons of different shades of brown in the wood grain. A half a foot away, there was still an open library book that had been left behind. He shimmied around the table to inspect it, the rich leather binding in a color he didn’t know yet. He pulled out his phone to snap a picture of it, then sent it to Momo.

What color is this one?

He sank down in the seat as he watched the three little periods in a bubble appear, and then Momo’s reply appeared with a small swoosh! sound.

It’s red! A dark red, the name for it would be maroon. While typing up a “thank you” with his left hand, he pulled the book back to him, flipping it open to a random page. A smirk quirked the corner of his lip as he landed on an illustrated rendition of a funky-looking alien, complete with a spacesuit and a prototypical UFO in the background of glittering white stars.

She likes aliens, he told Momo with a soft smile. She was reading a book about UFO sightings.

Aw, how quirky! I bet she’s outta this world :)

Hanta chuckled at her pun. He shot back a quick text that he was about to leave for the dorm and that he’d talk to her later, then stood to stow his phone in his back pocket. He grabbed the book and took it to the check-out counter, loaning it out for a week. Hanta had never been much of a reader, but he didn’t mind trying to see why his soulmate found alien visitation so interesting. He grabbed a coffee on the way out— caramel lattes were in fact pretty delicious, though he preferred soy milk— and read the first few pages of the book on his way back to the dorm, glancing up every so often to make sure he wouldn’t bump into anyone.

He set the book down next to the empty coffee cup, which he’d cleaned out so it could make a permanent home on the corner of his desk. He sank into his computer chair, one hand cupping his cheek and one hand tapping his fingers against the edge of his desk, and stared at the two items. The bands of green, the smudge of maroon, the colors that indicated his soulmate’s touch.

Where are you? He wondered. You’re so close, but you feel so far away… He pulled the book back to him, flipping to a page where Jupiter was illustrated across two pages. Far, far out in space, where I can’t find you. Like an astronaut adrift in the vastness of space, he’d just have to snatch onto these little drops of Jupiter until he found his way there.

As it turns out, he didn’t have to wait for his next drop.

“This is the same flower she touched before, too,” he remarked to Denki, squatting in front of the round bloom perched in the flower box. In fact, it was actually a cluster of many flowers growing in a cone-like formation, nestled in smooth oval leaves. He reached out, touching the gray parts of the petals, and he imagined how the color would bleed in to paint the flower to his soulmate. “What color is this?”

“Purple,” his friend replied, standing behind him with his thumbs hooked in his front pockets. “These are lilacs, I think.” Lilacs, Hanta echoed with a small smile. They smelled lovely, so he could imagine why his soulmate was attracted to them. They both looked up when the front door of the flower shop opened and a woman in an apron looked out, her eyebrows raised.

“Can I help you gentlemen?”

“We don’t mean to disturb you, ma’am,” Denki replied with a charming smile. “My buddy here is looking at this flower ‘cuz his soulmate touched it, is all.”

“Really? How wonderful,” the woman said, clapping her hands together in delight. “How appropriate, too. Lilacs are a flower of love, actually.” Hanta looked back at the blooms, at the splotches of purple and green where his soulmate had skimmed her fingers over them to feel the soft touch of leaves and petals as she passed. He looked a little higher to find different flowers blooming above the lilacs.

“What are these?”

“Those are salvia— blue salvia, to be exact. You can add them to a bouquet to let someone know you’re thinking of them.”

Hanta nodded, squinting at the flowers. Then, he stood up and touched every single one of the flowers that he could find. The woman and Denki watched him in amusement. Hanta couldn’t see it himself, but his soulmate would— splashes of blue all over the flower boxes, each bloom representative of just how many times he’d thought of them, how he was still thinking of them.

His own drops of Jupiter, just waiting to be found.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Hanta repeatedly slammed his forehead against his desk, rattling the pencils around in the coffee mug he kept them in. He could feel Denki watching him with a sympathetic look, but Hanta continued to bang his head against the desk in the hopes he could physically force the thoughts of his soulmate out of them so he could focus on actually passing his classes. Two weeks in and the mystery person dominated his mind, to the point where his first test was coming up and he had no clue what he was doing.

“Denki. I’m gonna flunk out, I’m gonna end up living in my mom’s basement living off Hot Pockets and Doritos, and I am never gonna find them!” he complained, finally just resting his forehead against the smooth painted wood of his desk because banging it was beginning to give him a headache instead of having the intended effect. He heard the wheels of Denki’s rolling chair scraping against their floor, the sounds becoming muffled when they hit the fuzzy fibers of Hanta’s area rug. Denki reached out to drum a beat over his back, trying to be encouraging.

“Come on, man! It’s only been a couple of weeks!” he said, continuing to chop across Hanta’s spine like he was giving him a cheap massage. “The campus isn’t that big, you know? Soon enough, you’re gonna find them.”

“But it’s driving me crazy, Denki!” he wheedled, lifting his head to peer over his shoulder at him. He jutted out his bottom lip in a pitiful pout. “Do you know how agonizing it is, knowing they’re on this campus but just out of reach? You got lucky! You didn’t have to go chasing Kyoka around; she was just right there!”

“Ah, I know, bud,” Denki said, taking Hanta’s misplaced frustration in stride and patting his back. “Look, hitting the book clearly ain’t working, so how’s about we go out tonight? Let’s go to a club, dance with some strangers, mope about the fact we’re not old enough to drink— yanno, what normal college kids do!”

Hanta grumbled something about trying to study at least a little bit more, but Denki had made up his mind. Hanta offered no resistance as Denki looped his arms under his armpits to drag him out of his computer chair and man-handle him over to the closet. After all, Hanta couldn’t go clubbing in the pair of Dragon Ball pajama pants he’d been wearing for the last three days. Denki dropped him in front of the closet with a laugh, licking his hand to smooth down the flyaways in Hanta’s hair.

“Just get dressed, dude. It’s gonna be a great time, promise ya!” Again, Denki always had the uncanny ability to drag him out of his ruts, so he found a small smile blooming on his face as a little bit of excitement welled up inside of him. There was no harm in dancing all his frustrations away, after all.

He found his worries falling off of him with each step he walked off campus and across the street, where bass-boosted music spilled out of the doors onto the sidewalk. Several bargoers lounged out front, sipping on their cocktails and beers while chatting loudly over the music. They didn’t give Denki or Hanta a passing glance as they walked inside. The two students gave their IDs to the bouncer, who drew large black X’s on the insides of their forearms to denote they were underage, then let them loose in the bar. Because of its proximity to a university and as an effort to curb underage drinking, this bar in particular welcomed students and even had an entire menu of special virgin cocktails for them to enjoy. Better than a bunch of them getting wasted in some abandoned house and getting up to no good.

Denki ordered a non-alcoholic beer, trying to look cool in front of their peers, while Hanta decided on some fruity rum concoction. He’d rather drink a “girly” drink and be laughed at than drink the bottle of piss Denki was trying to sip at without coughing it back up.

“Man, just try a cocktail,” Hanta laughed at his friend while sipping on his comparably delectable concoction. As Denki hacked and coughed next to him, insisting that he was going to drink it even if he died, Hanta found his gaze sliding to the door.

He froze. The martini glass in his hand slipped through his fingers as they laxed, falling straight down to shatter to the floor. It spread thick, ruby-red liquid and cranberries across the brown wood floor— not that he noticed, because he was too busy staring at the shock of not gray on the girl’s head that just walked in, and the maroon sundress flapping around her legs as she strutted in, and her white wedges clicking on the floor, and the silver pendant of an alien head bouncing against her chest as she walked.

As he stared at her in complete awe, she happened to glance his way, and she froze, too. He’d followed the drops of color and finally, finally, he’d found his Jupiter.

Then the rest of the atmosphere caught up with him, and he recoiled with a hiss. It was too much all at once; his long-dormant cones suddenly became active in the backs of his eyes, the world exploding with more color than he knew what to do with. He screwed his eyes shut with a high-pitched whine, curling into himself and pushing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. He could hear the bartender yelling about the spilled drink and Denki trying to explain in the background, and the loud bass-boosted music, and the chatter of the bar patrons— it was deafening in that moment, ringing in his ears to travel into his brain and make it throb in his skull.

“Hanta. Hanta, man, you good?”

Denki’s voice brought him back down to earth. His friend was rubbing soothing circles into his back. “Hey, man, I know. It hurts, just take it easy, okay? When you’re ready, open your eyes back real slow, give ‘em time to adjust.” Hanta followed his instructions, slowly cracking his eyes open a millimeter at a time. It hurt, but not nearly as much as all the color exploding across his retinas at once. It still made his mind swim, though, all the colors he didn’t know the name of blooming across his vision— and at the center of it was her, being supported by her two friends as she recovered from the same experience.

Hanta slipped off the barstool, the red drink he’d been enjoying just a few moments ago smearing across the white soles of his Converse— but he didn’t care. He had to get to her, his Jupiter, the girl he’d been chasing across campus, the girl who’d dominated his thoughts since the brief glimpse of color on the bus ride.

He staggered across the club to her, weaving around the tables and the oblivious patrons, cutting through the dance floor despite the shouts of indignation. He stopped right in front of her, drinking in those pale eyes— another color he wasn’t sure of— and that beautiful fluffy hair framing her face and covering her head like a cloud. He was so overwhelmed with the urge to touch it, to see if it was as soft as it looked, that he reached out to take a strand of it between his thumb and forefinger. The girl crossed her eyes to watch as he rubbed it gently between the pads of his fingers, absolutely enthralled.

“What color is this?” he whispered finally, looking at one of the girls who accompanied his still stunned soulmate. The girl, a blushing brunette, twisted a swathe of her chestnut hair around in her hands and smiled bashfully.

“Um… It’s pink.”

“Pink,” he echoed, rolling the word over his tongue and loving the way it did, “It’s beautiful.”

The girl smiled shyly as he finally retracted his hand. He coughed uncomfortably, realizing how weird he was just acting, and shoved his hands down into the pockets of his skinny jeans before he could embarrass himself further. “I’m, um, Hanta Sero. It’s nice to finally meet you,” he said. He then realized how creepy that sounded, so he hurriedly added, “I-I’ve seen the colors around campus, so, um… Yeah.”

“I know,” she said, straightening up and fisting the skirt of her dress. “I’ve seen the colors around campus, too, and… you… you’re the one who touched the salvia flowers.”

“Yeah!” he nodded eagerly, ecstatic that she’d gotten his intended message. The girl’s smile brightened, and she shyly swayed from side to side. Her two friends sashayed to the bar to go get drinks, leaving the two of them to converse near the entrance of the bar.

“My name is Mina. Mina Ashido.”

“Well, Mina, can I buy you a drink?” he asked and offered his arm with a meaningful wiggle of his eyebrows. Mina giggled, a sound that made him more drunk than the fumes of alcohol wafting in the air, and looped her arm in his. The fluorescent lights of the club glinted off the little alien pendant resting against Mina’s chest, and as he escorted her back to the bar where Denki was exchanging friendly small talk with Mina’s entourage, Hanta pointed at it. “So, you like aliens?”

“Yeah! I’m really into conspiracy theories and stuff.”

“Yeah, I found a book you’d read in the library about a week ago,” he smiled bashfully. “I read it; it was really interesting.” He sat back in his original seat, smiling apologetically at the bartender who had apparently cleaned up his mess. He just looked tired, like it happened more often than he cared to admit. Mina eased into the seat next to him. He re-ordered his cocktail, promising not to drop it this time, while Mina ordered a drink that was the same bright pink hue as her hair. She sipped delicately at the little black straw, her eyes shining as she peered at Hanta from underneath her lashes.

“So, what do you study, Hanta?”

“Business!” he declared with a self-satisfied waggle of his head. “I want to open up my own graphic tee printing company. What about you?”

“I’m studying journalism! One day I want to travel the world chronicling UFO sightings and strange phenomena,” she explained, her eyes lighting up in delight. The sparkle in those irises made him all soft and gushy inside, made his heart stutter in his chest, made him feel like he was floating. He’d float away, up into the sky and then the stratosphere, drift through the cosmos to Jupiter…

But he didn’t have to. His Jupiter was right here.

She was giggling at something Denki said, probably some attempt at wingmanning for him. She was unabashed, laughing jovially with her head tipped back, and God, he loved that sound. He found himself reaching out to take her cottony hair in his fingers again, stroking across the luscious strand. She smiled bashfully, endeared by his fascination with it.

“Sorry,” he apologized, but he really wasn’t feeling sorry about it. “It’s just so beautiful…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said with a soft smile. “Easily my favorite color of all the ones in the world.” Mina squirmed in her seat, her face turning the same color as her downy locks. She busied herself with sipping the last dregs of her cocktail from the martini glass— pink, too, like his favorite part about her. He swirled his cocktail around with his straw and then took another sip, wiggling his eyebrows at her. As she smiled, still giggling, he smiled, too.

Mina and Hanta split before the others did. The other girls knew that Denki was taken, but he still wanted to show them a good night of dancing, so he stayed behind to entertain them while the two walked off into the night. They meandered slowly down the sidewalk, holding hands and enjoying the newfound world of color glimmering around them.

Hanta found himself tipping back his head to admire the night sky. It was a shade of deep blue, not pure black since it was still early in the evening. The clouds were rimmed with edges of light blue, too, as the white moon hung low in the sky and the stars glimmered like diamonds.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Mina sighed and rested her hand on his shoulder. “Just so vast and full of wonder… There’s no telling what’s out there.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, then looked down at her with a gentle smile. “But… I really don’t care to know what’s out there.” They stopped, with Mina looking at him with raised eyebrows. He gently swept the strands of pink hair from her face to rest his hand on her cheek. “I’ve got everything I need down here on Earth.”

She smiled serenely, that beautiful twinkle like the stars alighting her eyes once more. But they drifted shut as Hanta closed the distance between them to softly brush his lips over hers in a sweet kiss, tasting the hint of that cocktail on her mouth like drops of Jupiter. Drops of Jupiter that he knew now lead to this beautiful girl, to Mina.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#seromina #mina x sero #sero x mina #hanta sero #sero hanta #mina ashido #ashido mina #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha

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littletentofblue · 2 years

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does alex have any musical talent? (disregarding that he's an impatient little shit who needs constant gratification)

Thanks for the great question! (and sorry for the slightly late response - I'd forgotten how boring and time-consuming having a job can be ugh earning money is lame)

So, in my head, my version of Alex might have been a talented musician in another life where he's not, as you say, an impatient little shit. I think of his connection to music as being very emotional (especially the piano, what with that being his mother's instrument) but also like... if I can be permitted to say something incredibly wanky, he 'gets' music on a kind of soulular (not a word but whatever) level. He can derive the meaning from a piece and hear the musician's intent without needing to be told (which is why Thomas's playing affects him the way it does although obviously I exaggerate that for narrative effect lol). There's a quote from The Importance of Being Earnest which goes, "I don’t play accurately—any one can play accurately—but I play with wonderful expression," which I think would have been fitting for Alex if he ever played an instrument!

But yeah the instant gratification thing makes all the difference because in learning any instrument there's a phase where it just... doesn't sound very good. And I dunno about you but I hate not being instantly brilliant at everything, which I think most people have to an extent, but Alex takes it to an extreme degree and he probably just wouldn't be happy with just being average and playing for fun. He's too used to being THE BEST and needing everything to have a purpose or an end goal.

Thomas, on the other hand, has the same aforementioned soulular (I'm coining it) musical connection, but with the additional patience and dedication (and pressure from a tyrannical, overbearing father) required to get very very very good.

But hey, maybe Alex just needs the right teacher ;)

Reading this back, I realise this is a slightly waffly response to a very good question, but I hope you found it vaguely interesting and informative, anon - thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk more nonsense about my story!

#tsaoh #asks

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ravenbrenna09 · 4 years

Text

Jij Verliest - Chapter Five: Clip 6

master list previous

...

Donderdag 22:39

After a full day of surfing and swimming, they settled around the warm fire for their final night at the beach. In addition to ordering pizza, Jens and Jayden disappeared and returned a little while later with two full cases of beer, which were promptly thrown in the fridge to cool. Once the pizza was eaten and the boxes thrown away, the beers returned and were consumed at a breakneck pace. By the time they started telling drunken stories, Robbe had already nursed three bottles of beer.

But when Zoë texted Jens—or, more accurately, texted Robbe using Jens’s phone—Robbe couldn’t resist the urge to leap to his feet and leave the campfire.

Taking one final drink of his beer, Robbe rose to his feet as Kes was in the midst of telling a particularly embarrassing story about Jayden. He placed the glass bottle into the collection box they would recycle in the morning and moved in the direction of the beach. Stopping in the middle of a sentence, Kes said, “Where are you going, Robbe? We’re at the best part!”

Moyo wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Off to call your mystery boyfriend?”

Even buzzed, Robbe managed to roll his eyes. “No, I’m off to call Zoë. Senne was meeting Mama today and I want to see how it went.”

As the rest of their friends let out a drunken, and somehow harmonious, chorus of “Ooo,” Kes nodded with a sure look on his face and declared with finality, “I’ll allow it.” Kes raised up his pointer finger and directed it toward Robbe, adding, “But just this once.”

Robbe chuckled, heading toward the beach.

With each step bringing him closer to the beach, the laughter of his friends faded behind him. As much as Robbe wanted to rejoin his friends, he had missed visiting his mama. Though it was likely that his mama had already gone to bed for the night, he wanted to hear about the visit from Zoë, who had been nervous about it. Once Robbe was far enough away, he flopped down on a sand dune and dialed Zoë’s number.

Zoë picked up on the third ring. “Hello!”

“Hey,” Robbe said, slurring a little.

Zoë’s melodious laugh sounded over the speaker. “Are you drunk?”

Robbe sighed. “I might be buzzed,” Robbe said. “Slightly.”

“Yeah, ‘slightly’ is enough to slur your speech,” Zoë teased. Through the speaker of the phone, Robbe could hear shuffling. Zoë was moving from somewhere, taking the phone with her, and she hummed a tune. After a few seconds, the shuffling stopped completely and Zoë said, “We missed you at dinner tonight.”

Robbe chuckled. “Did you?”

“Of course,” Zoë said. “It’s never the same without you, Robbe. You know that.”

Robbe rolled his eyes, unable to hide the blush warming to his cheeks. For a second, he was thankful that Zoë couldn’t see him. “How did Mama and Senne get along?”

“Swimmingly,” Zoë said. Even through the call, Robbe could tell that Zoë was ecstatic. She had been nervous about this meeting since she put it in place. His mama’s opinion meant a lot to Zoë, just as Zoë’s opinion meant a lot to his mama. “Because of work, Senne ended up being about five minutes late for dinner. To make up for it, he showed up with a bouquet of bright yellow daffodils.”

Robbe smiled. “Mama’s favorite flowers.”

“Yes, I don’t even know how he knew that,” Zoë said. She let out a light sigh and Robbe could tell that she was smiling. “During dinner, they didn’t stop talking about Senne’s work or Mama’s work or his roommates or Milan. Mama enjoyed the two of us coming over. But she did mention that she wanted Senne and I to come back next week with you so we can all be together.”

“Really?” Robbe asked.

“Yeah,” Zoë said, smiling. “Mama loved having Senne over. Plus, she said that she heard a lot from you about the days when we were all living in the flatshare together.” There was a brief pause. “If you’re okay with it, Senne and I would love to come join you and her for dinner.”

“Zoë,” Robbe said. “You know that you don’t have to ask me, right?”

“I know, but, she’s your mama and it’s your time with her. I just don’t want to intrude—”

“Zoë,” Robbe interrupted. His roommate, practically his adopted sister, paused on the other end of the line, waiting for him to continue. “She’s your mama too. If you want to come over every Thursday for the rest of the year, you can come every Thursday. If I ever decide that I just want it to be me and Mama, I’ll make plans with her.”

“Are you sure?” Zoë asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Zoë said, sounding relieved. “Maybe next week, you can bring your mystery man. I know that it might be a little too soon, but Senne might still be a little nervous next week. Maybe if you bring your mystery man, Senne won’t be the only one that’s nervous.”

Robbe laughed. “I think that it’s still a little too soon to introduce him to Mama,” Robbe said, letting out a breath. There was no doubt in Robbe’s mind that Sander wouldn’t manage to charm his mother faster than Senne did. “But I’m hoping that he won’t remain a secret for a little while longer.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Robbe said.

“That’s great! I can’t wait to meet him,” Zoë said. Robbe could tell that she really meant it. “Well, other than being ‘slightly’ buzzed, how’s the beach?”

…

Donderdag 22:51

jensrolt: Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been really quiet this week.

earthlingoddity: I am. It’s just been a long week. We got even more customers today. Plus I don’t really know what to say.

jensrolt: What do you mean?

earthlingoddity: Like I’m not sure what to say about us. Since it’s not your phone. I know you want to be a little quiet right now. And I just wanted to honor your wish.

jensrolt: I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about that.

earthlingoddity: Robbe, there’s nothing to be sorry about.

jensrolt: Everyone knows I’m seeing someone. But Jens knows that I’m seeing you.

earthlingoddity: Really? I know you wanted to keep things quiet.

jensrolt: Yeah. I just wanted to take it slow. But Jens is my best friend. And I know how protective he can get.

earthlingoddity: I can imagine that. Considering Thomas.

jensrolt: What do you mean?

earthlingoddity: I can just imagine how protective he is. Thomas seems to be determined to get what he wants. I doubt that you got a lot of say. It would make sense how protective he is.

jensrolt: That’s true. But no matter how Thomas moves and manipulates, he’s not getting what he wants. I don’t want him in my life anymore. And he needs to accept that.

#wtfock #wtfam #jij verliest fic #sobbe #rosander #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #twitch streamer!robbe #twitch streamer robbe #tattoo artist!sander #tattoo artist sander #i didn't make texts because i was already late #so i hope you don't mind #remember robbe is using jens' phone lol

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inscribed-in-asteroids · 4 years

Text

AN: here’s the first chapter for “the ripple effect”, story by myself (I’m still under anesther on AO3/tumblr) and character designs by @queenofthelanternfish. the pinned post gives the gist of it, and the note on AO3 adds further detail, so make sure to check AO3 more.

Title: The Ripple Effect

Characters: Entrapta, Hordak, Odessa (fanchild)

Pairing: Entrapdak, features other canon couples

Rating: M

Read on AO3.

Return

Entrapta breathes in the air, chest lifting from the inhale, “Wow, I forgot how fresh Etheria smells.”

Hordak looks at Odessa, “How are your olfactory senses?”

Odessa gives a delicate sniff, “Normal functioning. The medicine is working.”

“Good. The last time we arrived, you could not stop sneezing.”

Entrapta sits on her hair, the strands extending out in long strides, keeping up with her family. Readying the map, she gushes, “You had the cutest little sneeze.”

“I hate sneezing,” Odessa frowns. “It’s torture.”

“That’s why Hordak and I made sure you’re well this time! It should last the duration of our stay.”

Odessa nods, still tentative about breathing. Etheria is beautiful, but she could do without the pollen.

Sunlight streams down from the heavens, the sky melting with brilliant colors. Imp’s shadow skirts across their forms as he mimics various sounds, with Emily rolling in front of them.

Birdsong is foreign to her ears, no matter how often they visit; too used to the whirs and clanking of a laboratory and makeshift garage. Fauna and flora tread through their environment, teeming with powerful magic. As they proceed through the woods, she collects a sample of glowing energy, handing it to her mother for future study, to see how well Etheria continues to fare.

She has come here only a few times in her life, at the behest that she visits her parents’ friends and acquaint herself with her Etherian half. She doesn’t mind, but when you’ve traveled beyond stars and suns, Etheria is welcoming as much as she supposes it can.

She does find Bright Moon pretty, at least. Though it could be grungier.

She takes her time as her parents and siblings continue on, being warmly received by the king and queen of Bright Moon. She stares out at the Whispering Woods, crossing the bridge in silence.

“Imp has gotten big!” Bow says, patting the top of his head. Smiling at the happy sound of purring, he addresses Hordak, “We didn’t think he could age.”

Hordak shrugs, “Neither did we, but we’ve been checking his growth spurts for the last year or so.”

Coming into view, Glimmer greets Odessa, “Hey! How have you been?”

She smiles lightly, “I have been well, thank you.”

Bow pats her shoulder, “You’ve gotten tall, too! Last I saw you, you were at my waist.” He grins slyly. “Have your parents been feeding you experimental science food?”

“The occasional amniotic fluid is dropped atop my meals, but I did get this new port inserted into my back,” she replies, grinning wide while turning around to show them.

“Oh my!” Glimmer says, glancing at her parents, then back at her. Clearly perturbed. “Did it hurt?”

“No, my parents are very accurate with surgical tools. Except for that one time…”

Glimmer and Bow exchange worried glances.

Odessa smiles, palms up, “I’m kidding.”

Glimmer and Bow laugh, albeit oddly.

“You don’t think I would endanger my child, do you?” Hordak asks, smirking.

“No, no!” they say together, waving their hands.

Entrapta wraps her arms around their shoulders, shoving them into each other, “It’s actually a very simple procedure! Would you two be interested?”

With an appropriate amount of vehemence, they decline the offer. The group chats about the latest changes in Etherian politics, culture, festivities, and other miscellaneous details. Odessa listens partially, more interested in Imp scaling the walls, letting her thoughts wander.

The halls have been painted differently, and the rest has been decorated with various plants and statues. It’s not as sparse as she saw it before. It lends to a softer appearance, though she doesn’t mind it being empty.

“How has your education been going, Odessa?” Glimmer asks.

“Excellent,” Odessa answers.

Entering a spare room, furnished with soft pastel cushions, a lounge chair, also adorned with pillows, and a futon for laying out, Odessa sits herself on the closest seat by the door. Imp settles beside her, with Emily taking the spot behind and spinning in place.

“What else has been going on with you?” Bow asks. He gestures to the table, where a spread of food and drink has been displayed. “Did you pick up anything new?”

“I have increased my focus on herpetology for the moment,” she says, taking a cup of tea. Sipping it, she bites down distaste, and dumps six sugar cubes in it.

Curious, his eyes light up, “Ohh, what’s that?”

“The study of snakes,” Odessa says. Not caring about the droop in his features, she continues. “And I’ve been increasing my wet specimen collection.”

Glimmer raises a brow, “Is that the hobby you have where you put… things in jars?”

“Yes!” Odessa replies, excited. “I managed to get a good one on the last planet we visited. It’s hard to find a decent fetus.”

“Her collection is fascinating,” Entrapta agrees. “There are so many creatures she has managed to acquire. There’s this giant spider she has in a jar with mandibles the size of your forearm!”

“That is your largest at the moment,” Hordak says to Odessa, propping an arm on his knee.

“I’m hoping to get a bigger specimen soon,” Odessa says. She turns to Glimmer and Bow, grin coming back. “There’s a planet in the nearest sector that has some of the most venomous species you can find. I hope to find one there.”

“Well, I hope you succeed,” Glimmer giggles, nodding despite her stomach churning.

Bow smiles through the pain, but he adds, “My dads have expanded their library to include other subjects aside from First Ones artifacts. You can go there if you want to ask them anything at all.”

“Really? Thanks!” Odessa says. Maybe this trip will be fruitful. She turns to her parents, “Oh, while I’m here, I was wondering when I could—”

“Mama, Papa, are you in here?”

Odessa turns, finding the princess at the door.

“Aurora! There you are. Our guests arrived,” Glimmer says, waving a hand in their direction.

“Oh, hello!” she replies, bowing her head.

Odessa and her family rise in respect, returning the bow.

“I’m glad to see you again,” Aurora says, giving a genteel smile. “Was your trip well?”

“Yes,” Odessa answers.

Entrapta nods vigorously, “We had a great trip!”

“That’s good to hear,” Aurora says. She looks at her parents, “Mama, I was going to ask you if it was all right for me to go out.”

Glimmer grins at her, “You don’t have to ask me to go places!”

She smiles, hands folded in front of her, “I thought I would anyway.”

Bow nods, “Of course you can go out. Are you going to visit people?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you take Odessa with you? I’m sure she’d like to see everyone.”

Aurora’s brow gives the barest twitch.

Odessa keeps her face neutral, turning to her own folks, “Would that be fine with you?”

“Sure!” Entrapta says. “Bring back anything interesting!”

Hordak nods his approval, smiling at her.

With that, the two girls exit the room together, going left, where they had all arrived from.

Neither of them speak, minding their own business. Aurora and she are both sixteen, though Odessa is older by almost four months. Their strides even, they walk in silence.

Aurora brushes her hair away. Glancing at the other royal, she asks, “How long will you be here for?”

“No longer than six weeks.”

Satisfied with the answer, they part in opposite directions.

Odessa heads out of the palace, coming to the bridge. Bringing out her tracker pad, the map coming to the screen, she sends a message out to two people. Then she continues out into the woods.

Plumeria is as pollen-ridden as ever. Giving a small sniff, Odessa pushes back large leaves. Coming to the center of it, the Heart-Blossom thrums with magic. It’s risen higher, standing above the rest of the kingdom. Walking through the trees, she is greeted by a few villagers.

Heading further out, she notes the additions of homes with sturdier foundations. Approaching a door she’s knocked on before, she grins when it opens, “Hi!”

Hydrangea shouts, “Odessa!” Wrapping her arms around her friend, squeezing tight, she kisses her cheeks in delight. “Oh my gosh, you’re here sooner than I thought!”

“Helps to have a hyperdrive.”

“Mom! Mom, Odessa’s here!”

There’s a loud crash, followed by apologetic mumblings. Scorpia comes from behind the wall, a wide grin spreading her face, the pink of her gums revealed, “Oooh, Odessa! There you are!”

“Hi, Scorpia,” she says, fully awaiting the crushing blow of her hugs, closing her eyes. She opens an eyelid, “What are you doing?”

Scorpia’s claws touch each other, looking unsure, “Do you want a hug? You’re older now, I’ve heard teenagers hate it.”

“I didn’t travel across the universe to not get a Scorpia Hug,” Odessa says, opening her arms wide. “Bring it in, dang it!”

Obliging, Scorpia crushes her daughter and her friend’s child in her arms. Shaking them to and fro, Scorpia says, “Okay good! Apparently, only you and Gea are into hugs at this stage.”

“I don’t let just anyone hug me,” Odessa explains. “You’re an exception.”

Cooing, tears in her eyes, Scorpia hugs Odessa tighter. Setting her down, she holds her hands in her pincers, “It’s so good to see you again! How have you been?”

“I’ve been alright,” Odessa replies, knowing she’s going to have to answer that several more times during her visit. Small talk is about as entertaining as a needle in your spine. She should know—not a single person she’s done it to liked it. Though, those same people would likely prefer casual conversation to a lumbar puncture. Entering the small home, a hearth holds a fire in its maw, the scent of stew wafting in her nostrils, much more pleasant. Nearby, a table contains herbal teas, a pestle and mortar resting beside dried flowers, fruits and seeds. She catches the smell of sugar, eager, “Are those what I think they are?”

Hydrangea smiles, “You bet! They’re about done. Come here, sit down, get comfy.”

Taking a chair, Odessa leans over the table, making mental records of the items on the table. She looks up at Scorpia, “Were you two busy?”

“Nope! We were tidying up a little so you wouldn’t find a mess when you got here, but you beat us to it.”

“It’s not messy.”

“Oh, good.” Relieved, Scorpia heads into the kitchen, hearing the ding of the oven. “I’ll be back.”

Hydrangea locks her fingers together, scales dappled by light outside. Chin resting on them, she asks, “Have you been here long?”

“No more than an hour or two.”

“I’m glad you’re back. I missed you!”

“I missed you too,” Odessa says, smiling.

Scorpia and her daughter, Hydrangea, are a handful of individuals that she is always thrilled to see. She converses with them through the complex network of telecommunication systems that her parents had installed before they had gone out to explore the universe.

Hydrangea’s bubbly demeanor makes her easy to be around, similar to her mothers. They were different in nearly every aspect of personality and interest, but they were together all the time when she would visit. Scorpia had been ecstatic to see them getting along, and Entrapta had said that the likelihood of their babies being fond of each other was high from the start.

Whether it was true or not, Odessa enjoyed having Hydrangea’s company regardless.

Scorpia returns, holding a plate, “Here you go! Be careful, they’re hot.”

Eyes alight, Odessa takes a peach muffin in her hands. Without a second thought, she takes a large bite. The heat and flavor coat her tongue, sending happy tingles down her back.

“Doesn’t it burn?” Hydrangea asks.

“It’s a good burn,” she says, licking the sugar dust from her fingers.

Scorpia sits across from her, “I’m glad you still like them! Did you not eat?”

“I had tea at Bright Moon,” Odessa replies, polishing off the wrapper of the first. Reaching for another, she says, “But I wanted to come over here. I knew you two would feed me.”

Hydrangea gives her a playful shove, “Des, you’re incorrigible.”

“No, I’m hungry,” she says. Looking around, she raises a brow, “Where’s Perfuma?”

“She had a meeting to go to, but she should be back in the evening.”

“Is she avoiding me?” Odessa smirks, suspicions confirmed.

“What?! No!” Scorpia waves her claws. “She wouldn’t avoid a person.”

Hydrangea places a forefinger to her chin, “Well, maybe a little. You did start a fire last time you were here.”

“I said sorry for that. I repaired the damage,” Odessa says. “How was I supposed to know that the drone was going to blow up? By all accounts, it shouldn’t have.”

“Fair, but you know how Plumerians are. We’re not exaaaactly known for being open to new inventions.”

Odessa keeps from rolling her eyes, “I’ll apologize to her again, if she likes. I brought a peace offering too. And, really, she’s acting like I burned the whole forest when it was just a small fire that erupted from the machine.”

Scorpia shakes her head, patting Odessa on the hand, “I know, little beetle. I think it just bothered her how it happened.”

“I promise I’m not going to do anything this time. I really thought the drone would deposit seeds more efficiently.”

Scorpia and Hydrangea nod, knowing she had good intentions. It was strange, but Perfuma held onto this grudge for a while longer than normal. It wouldn’t come up in conversation, and she appeared to have moved on, but when it was announced that Entrapta’s family would be visiting, Perfuma had been a little cold to the idea. And she left just shortly before Odessa had arrived.

Finishing up, Scorpia gathers the plates, “She is running around doing errands for right now. You can give her your gift when you come back tonight. I’m excited to see your parents!”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Agreeing, belly full, Odessa stands up, looking at Hydrangea. “Ready?”

“Yes! See you later, Mom!” Hydrangea tells Scorpia.

“Bye, girls!”

With that, she and Hydrangea go out of the hut. Trekking through the vast underbrush, the two come to a small portal, meant for planetary travel and nothing else. Rushing over, Odessa types in their coordinates. Hydrangea quietly squeals, palms put together.

They walk into a whirling mass of energy and heat. Stepping out, they inhale briny gusts, seagulls cawing overhead. In front of them stands a young man with arms folded, a cool look on his face.

“Tristan,” Odessa greets, expression equally frigid.

“Odessa,” he replies.

They stare for a moment. Then burst into laughter. He rushes over, grabbing her head in a tight lock, “You’re getting slow!”

“And you still never think!” Odessa yells, reaching around to pinch the nerve at the back of his knee. Flipping him over, she stands over him, giving a toothy grin. “See?”

Laughing, he takes her offered hand, “It’s good to see you! I’ve been so bored.”

“Aw, do you and Gea not hang out?” she asks.

“Of course we do,” Hydrangea says, rising on her toes to give him a friendly kiss on the cheek. “It’s just been a while since the three of us have been together. This is so wonderful!”

“Yeah, let’s go!” Tristan says, breaking into a light jog. “I got my boat ready!”

The trio run toward the docked vessel. Jumping onto the deck, Hydrangea looks at Tristan, “Where to, Captain?”

“Ocean bound for now,” he says, untying it from its post. “That sound good?”

“Yeah!” is the cry from his mates, and the boat is loosened from its position, anchor sliding up from the water. The sails unfurl, and Tristan stands at the helm. The winds pick up, as he predicted, and with his call upon the seas, the ship begins to dart across the water, droplets of seawater splashing them.

Pumping her fist into the air, Odessa whoops, hair whipping past her. Looking over her shoulder at him, she shouts, “Can it go faster?”

Tristan’s mouth spreads into a wide, devilish grin. One hand on the wheel, he reaches forward, lifting up a small, inconspicuous lid near him. He reaches in, pressing something.

In a moment, their surroundings become nothing but ocean and sky. The scent of the sea rushes through her nostrils, her friends cheering along with her. Wild giggles burst from Hydrangea, as Tristan hollers at the top of his lungs.

Odessa’s smile widens, noticing the rocks jutting out from blue waters. Hydrangea and she exchange glances before turning to Tristan. His composure doesn’t falter, narrowing his eyes, daring unforgiving elements to destroy them.

Calling out instructions, the sail is lifted. Readying themselves, Hydrangea climbs to the top of the mainsail, yelling out caution for rocks he cannot see, gripping onto the solid rail. Odessa keeps the rope tight in her hands, in case he needs more wind. Tristan steers through the rocks, seafoam crashing against stone and metal.

The sound of air in her ears drowns out all sound, the vessel cutting through water. Veering sharp turns, sea spray hits them. Rocks pass by in narrow pathways, so close Odessa could reach out to touch them. Then as quickly as they arrived, they propel through into the clear open sea.

Hydrangea comes down from her perch, laughing with Odessa. Tristan wears a contented grin, easing the speed to a more leisurely pace.

Sunlight dazzles upon the water, its light dancing on their forms. Odessa brushes away loose hairs, locking both of them in her arms, happy to see them again.

“That’s cool you went to Pilan,” Tristan says, taking a sip of his drink. “You’d been wanting to be there for a few years.”

Odessa waves at the waiter through the crowd. Her own beverage now refilled, she takes a large bite out of her food. Swallowing, she nods, “I know. I didn’t think we’d be able to get there before coming back to Etheria.”

Hydrangea leans back against the seat. Not bothering with her fork, she picks up a strawberry slice from her salad, “It wasn’t too far from your last stop.”

“Yes, but my father likes to keep a tight schedule, if he can. Mom’s more lenient but you know him.”

Joking, she asks, “Is he still a grumpy cactus?”

“He wouldn’t be my father if he wasn’t,” Odessa replies, affection in her tone.

Tristan pats his chest, releasing a light burp. Relaxing back, he adds, “That’s true. Apples don’t fall far from the tree—I saw you when someone woke you up too early.”

Odessa mimics his motion, giving a belch of her own, “And you never bothered me in the morning again.”

“You two are gross,” Hydrangea tells them, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

“You love us,” Tristan says, waggling his eyebrows.

“Do I?” She shakes her head at them, despite smiling. “It’s hard to tell sometimes.”

“If you didn’t, you’d have left,” Odessa chimes in. Then, looking at Tristan, she raises a brow, leering at him. “Although, she must tolerate you more than I do, because there is no way I would have allowed you to grow that on your face if I was home.”

Crossing his arms, Tristan flushes, “I can do what I want.”

“It looks like a fuzzy caterpillar is above your lip,” Odessa teases. She turns in her spot, grabbing his face to inspect it better. “Seriously, who said it was a good idea to let you grow a moustache.”

“I’ll have you know,” Tristan pushes Odessa away, touching the small hairs with his finger. “That everyone on my dad’s side can grow decent moustaches. Mine’s just taking a little bit…”

“I’ll say. You won’t have one like Seahawk’s until you’re 80.”

Huffing, Tristan sticks his tongue out at her.

Hydrangea waves her left hand, “I’m sure you’ll eventually get it! Although, it has been three months…”

Odessa snorts, cackling, “What? Three months and that’s it?”

Tristan glares at her, “I’m a late bloomer with this!”

“Riiiiiight. And I’m growing one out too, can’t you tell?”

Sinking into his seat, Tristan looks away, annoyed.

Hydrangea tilts her head to try and meet his gaze, “We don’t think it’s stupid.”

“I do,” Odessa says.

At Hydrangea’s disapproving stare, Odessa shrugs.

“You can grow it out if you want to. There’s nothing wrong with growing it out,” Hydrangea assures him.

“If you’re fine looking like that,” Odessa adds. Then she winces, a sharp kick delivered to her leg. Glaring at her friend, who gives an icy stare in turn, she relents, “B-But I more mean, well, I don’t think it suits you, is all.”

Tristan pouts further, bottom lip sticking out.

“Come on, Tris, I’m sorry,” Odessa says, hand to her chest. “I promise it’s not bad.”

He glances at her, “Really?”

“Yeah! It’s just been a while since I’ve been home. It’ll grow in. I couldn’t help teasing you.”

Sitting back up, Tristan keeps his arms folded, “Okay… Are you sure it’s fine?”

“Yep,” Odessa lies.

Pleased with the encouragement, Tristan resumes eating. Odessa almost exhales in relief. She forgets he can be pretty sensitive about his appearances. At his slowly improving mood, Odessa glances at Hydrangea, who takes a sip of her tea with demurely closed lashes. When she looks up, Odessa narrows her eyes.

She’s ignored. Hydrangea changes the topic of conversation, and the feeling of the trio goes back to lighter, informal chit chat. Odessa sighs internally. She knows she can be difficult with her inability to tell even the smallest fib, but damn, she didn’t have to kick that hard.

Meal finished, Tristan goes to pay while Odessa and Hydrangea leave the establishment.

Hydrangea raises a brow, “When are you going to learn to not say rude things?”

“Never,” replies Odessa. She shoves her, a little more roughly than usual. “And you didn’t have to kick.”

“You weren’t getting the hint. I would rather Tristan not break down in tears in public.”

“Ugh, he wouldn’t cry in public. He keeps that bottled in.”

“Until you go too far,” Hydrangea elbows her in the ribs. “Can’t you be supportive?”

“Gea, you know I have a hard time lying! You may as well tell me to hold my breath forever—it can’t be done.”

Sighing, she admits, “I know, I know, you’re not good with lying. But think of it as… omitting information, for right now.”

“Fine, I won’t be mean to him. In public,” she adds.

“Odessa…”

“Fine. I won’t be mean to him about his stupid moustache. Although, I will blame you for letting it happen.”

Hydrangea gives a smile, “Okay, that’s fair. He just looked so excited, I couldn’t talk him out of it.”

“That's why I’m here to convince him otherwise.”

“Ah-bup-bup-bup!” Hydrangea wags her finger. “No. He will learn, on his own time, it’s not a good look.”

Heaving a long, exasperated sigh, Odessa watches Tristan walk over to them. Deciding it’s time to go home, they sail back to Salineas. Once there, they dock the ship, though Tristan doesn’t start heading down the pier.

“What’s up? It’s getting late,” Odessa says.

“I haven’t seen you in forever, I’m not leaving yet. Besides, it’s boring at home,” Tristan tells her.

The three head to the portal. Putting in their destination, they are greeted by Odessa’s family in front of its arch.

Entrapta waves at them enthusiastically, “Hey! There you are.”

“Hi, Mom. Were you waiting?”

“No, we are on the way to Scorpia’s! Hydrangea, Tristan, hi!”

Returning the greeting, Hydrangea is pulled forward by Entrapta’s hair, her recorder in hand, “Tell me, since we’re here, how is the portal functioning?”

“Oh! It’s still in top-notch shape,” she answers, stepping awkwardly forward as she keeps up with the tech princess.

“Hey, Hordak,” Tristan says, coming up to him.

“Hello, Tristan. I trust you have been in good health.”

“Yeah, I have. The additions to my boat have been awesome!”

Hordak smiles, “Good. Is the speed to your liking?”

“Absolutely,” Tristan says. “Odessa can confirm.”

She nods, “It was a really impressive ride. You two made that heap of junk into a new machine.”

Tristan turns back to Hordak, chatting away with him about increasing the boat’s capabilities, while Hydrangea continues to converse with Entrapta.

It makes her think of when they were little. Her friends, she knew, were viewed as an extension of herself, and thus, they were treated accordingly by her parents. But she also was aware of the mutual esteem they had for her friends. Entrapta and Hordak were encouraging in her decisions to expand her social circle, but they also were the sort to be intolerant toward bad friendships. And by ‘they’ she means her father, who is far from willing to watch her be taken advantage of.

Scorpia is waiting in front of the hut, waving a large claw at them. Entrapta and Hordak are squeezed tightly against her chest once they’re in range, “Hi, lovebirds!”

“Hey, Scorpia! What’s new with you?” Entrapta asks, being set down.

“Oh, we’ve been busy! There are lots of new homes here, we’re expanding a little further south.”

Odessa goes to the nearest corner with Hordak, the two settling down on the couch. Tristan and Hydrangea discuss their own plans and time with each other, as Entrapta catches up with Scorpia.

Odessa glances at her father, “How’d it go with the king and queen?”

“Glimmer and Bow were welcoming, as normal. We discussed their latest plans for Etheria, and your mother and I said we would offer our services for anything technology-based.”

She nods, reaching toward the platter of cookies left on the table.

“How long were you with Aurora?”

“No longer than five minutes. Then I went to see Tris and Gea,” she replies. She glances at him, “You don’t mind?”

“Of course not. You are free to befriend who you want,” Hordak says, patting her shoulder.

Smiling at him, she turns in her seat, “Dad, by the way, I had some ideas while we’re here. I wanted to go to the Crimson Waste and get some specimens to dissect.”

“Does it include Etherian corpses?”

“Not corpses, per se. And I’m not grave-robbing. I wanted to find some old bodies to study.”

Hordak nods, “You’ll have more luck in the southern region. Will your friends be accompanying you?”

“I’ll ask them later, but for now, I’m going to assume no.”

“Would you want your mother and I to come?”

“That’d be cool!” she says, eyes bright.

He smiles at her, “We’d be delighted to ‘not grave-rob’ with you.”

Perfuma had sent a message saying she’ll be busy tonight. Despite that, the evening passed without any other event, and they all enjoyed each other’s company.

Odessa turns over a large boulder, “I thought for sure I’d find a body somewhere by now.”

“Your father said that it’s possible it’s changed again since we’ve last been here.”

Odessa knows this is correct. Sometime ago, during another expedition, they had learned that several oases had cropped up within the Crimson Waste. This makes searching for corpses, be it animal or Etherian, harder to acquire; in spite of its still severe temperature and environment, the organisms that called this territory home have been thriving since She-Ra and her parents aided them to harness magic in the sandy dunes.

“I suppose I should call it a day,” Odessa says, touching her chin. She glances at her mother, “But perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to explore for another hour or three.”

Entrapta grins, “Yeah, let’s keep looking!”

Splitting off into opposite directions, Odessa walks further along rocky terrain. She pauses when she finds Hordak gazing down at the dirt. Approaching him, Odessa looks at the Horde helmet beneath his feet, uncovered from years of being buried in sand; timeless and haunting.

Kneeling, Hordak lifts it up to inspect. He sighs.

“Dad, you know you can’t ruminate over it,” Odessa says, touching his shoulder.

“I do,” Hordak replies, wiping the surface, though there’s no sheen left to it. “I have tried to make peace with it, and for the most part, I have managed to move on from my mistakes.”

Odessa’s brow knit together. She’s never liked when he thinks too deeply about his past in the Horde, and the ramifications of it. Staring at the helmet, sharp wings barely visible, she asks, “What was our species like?”

“Pardon?” Hordak asks, turning to her.

“Our species.”

Hordak’s eyes narrow, placing the helmet back down, “We were Horde Prime’s loyal servants and soldiers.”

“But is that it?”

“There’s nothing more that can be explained.”

“Everyone comes from somewhere, however,” Odessa explains, rising to full height as he does. “Do you know anything of our species before Horde Prime decided to conquer other planets?”

Hordak’s expression falters. A scowl lining his features. “No.”

Odessa notes the tension in his shoulders. She asks, quietly, “Was that never a subject that was discussed?”

“Never,” Hordak answers, reaching down. He yanks up a bird corpse, still fairly preserved. Holding it out to her, he awaits her decision.

Satisfied, Odessa places it in a plastic bin. Never…? It’s hard to believe. She looks at him, “I know that Horde Prime could control you through possession via hivemind. But I find it interesting he never gave inkling to times before that. Were you always a colonizing species?”

Hordak stares at his child, “Truthfully, I don’t know.”

“Why?”

He sighs, discomfort settling in his chest. “Information about our kind is not an aspect of ourselves we own. When I was created, I hadn’t been alive as long as the others. For me, there was Horde Prime. And only him. However, there are clones who are on Etheria, or have left to travel the universe, that might have knowledge on the subject.”

Carrying her bin, Odessa and Hordak meet up with her mother, who had found other bodies to dissect, including an Etherian corpse of someone who had similarities to Double Trouble’s structure. A good haul. It may not be the most ethical activity, but she can’t very well open up living people.

Walking beside Entrapta, Odessa turns to her, “Mom, I have a question.”

“Ask away!”

“What do you know of Dad’s species?”

Entrapta’s brow furrows as well, confusion on her features. She sits back on her hair, scuttling along the dirt, “Nothing, aside from what we know involving Horde Prime.”

“Dad said the same thing. But there has to be knowledge from before that.”

“We never uncovered anything about Horde Prime that way. His species competed with the First Ones in expanding their respective sides throughout the universe. But there was never anything to suggest what life was like for your father’s species prior to the Horde. He was always there, as your father puts it.”

“Don’t you ever wonder why though?”

“Sure! All the time!” Entrapta replies.

Odessa smiles at her, “Then wouldn’t it be prudent to figure out what we can? Even a little research is important.”

“Ooh, we could collect fascinating data that way!” Entrapta says. Then she stares at Hordak’s retreating form. “What did your father say to you, when you asked?”

“Same things as you. Except he doesn’t sound as enthusiastic.”

Entrapta frowns a little, unsure.

“If it makes you feel better,” Odessa adds. “He did tell me some of his brothers might know, and to try there first.”

“That sounds like a good start!” Entrapta agrees, not feeling as bad now. She is the sort to pursue new, untapped discoveries, but Hordak’s found his past shameful and a source of great regret, one he still has never recovered from completely. If he gave Odessa the suggestion, then it’s likely he doesn’t mind her asking. She has always wanted to know. But not at his expense.

Grinning at Odessa, she says, “We’ll see who can help us!”

Odessa looks ahead, a cloud passing above them.

“Hey, are you okay?” Hydrangea asks.

Odessa stares out the window, chin resting on the back of her hand. She glances at her, “I’m thinking.”

“You’re always thinking,” Tristan adds. “What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve been thinking about my family. Not the Etherian one. My father’s side.”

“Are your uncles doing alright?” Hydrangea asks. “Do they need help with anything?”

“No, they’re all doing splendid. I mean that I’m curious about them, beyond what I already know.”

Tristan and Hydrangea glance at each other. He steps forward, “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know where we come from. Why we did what we did,” Odessa spins on the ball of her foot, a sharp grin on her features. “And I want you two to help me find out what that is.”

#entrapta #hordak #entrapdak #entrapdak fankid #odessa #spop #shera

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animerunner · 3 years

Text

What Happened Is Not Right And That’s Okay (Chapter 2)

Ao3

Link to Chapter 1 Fandom: The Owl House Rating: T Warnings For this Chapter: Dehumanization, ableism, possible borderline gaslighting, and parental ignorance/neglect possibly bordering on child abuse. Relationships: Eda Clawthorne & Lilith Clawthorne, Eda Clawthorne & Eda Clawthorne’s Mother, Eda Clawthorne & Principal Bump (additional relationships to be added as the story progresses. Summary:Living with a curse was never a simple task. And really from day one Eda knew it was going to be complicated. But she can't help but wonder at times. Just why hers has to be this complicated.

In short: An Exploration of what life might have been like for Eda growing up with the curse. AN: Hey there so what story is basically what it says on the tin. With some creative liberty of course.

Something to keep in mind is that this story progresses: 1. Explore Eda's character and others in response to the curse 2. Help myself explore and come to terms with my own Chronic Illness 3. Help educate others who aren't as familiar with disabilities on the realities of the situation. This one is important to me since the fandom can have an ableism issue. And I would like for readers to maybe take away why the use of certain tropes is a lot worse than they might realize. 4. This story is not meant to be either tragedy or inspiration porn. 5. I've only really begun interacting with the disability community in the last few years. So if I do a misstep its unintentional ignorance. Which I realize is not great either. I just want to make clear my intent is not malicious. If someone else who is in the community in some form be it Neurotypical, disabled, chronically ill, etc. sees something questionable within the story that comes off as unintentionally ableist please tell me. I would be happy to clarify if the plot beat was unintentional (and fix it) or somehow deals with the story itself. Which will happen sometimes. 6. Some of this is based on my own experience. Some of it is not. The parents issue this chapter is a good example of it not being based on my own experience.

This story will touch on some topics that might be sensitive to some readers. I will include warnings . If your sensitive to the topic please keep that in mind before starting it. Also please bear in mind that not all chapters will have the same element. So while one chapter might have one issue, the other might not. A good example of this is an arc I will be exploring later in the story involving ableism in sports.

For anyone who wasn’t around for the first chapter. This was originally inspired by @beckyarteest‘s fic before it went off and became its own quasi multi chapter AU (I am bad at sticking to canon compliance): I'm getting old and I need something to rely on.

Anyways Actual story is under the read more. Ao3 link is at the top. Please let me know what you think!

One day turned into two and two turned quickly into a week. And after that with no real sign of the ‘curse’ resurfacing, Eda had actually started to think that maybe everyone else was right.

Maybe whatever had happened that day was just a one off thing.

Unfortunately, reality had made that hope come crashing down just over two weeks after “the duel that wasn’t” with Lilith.

=============

Eda wouldn’t remember the moment that would properly change everything about her life.

Though, she guessed that wasn’t entirely accurate. Considering the biggest moment had happened a week prior was when she had been supposed to be vying for an Emperor’s Coven spot against Lily. The day of her first transformation.

However the incident in potions class, the moment they now knew this was almost certainly not just a one off incident like they had been hoping? That was the moment it became all too real for Eda.

Even if it would be a while longer before it became real for the rest of the family. That was the day reality started to sink in for Eda. As it was the day that she knew at least to an extent that her life wasn’t going to ever be the same.

It would also be her first gateway into the many, many issues that came with the curse. Whether it be other people’s treatment of her cursed form, right or wrong, or just still having people take her seriously in the beginning.

Something that would be a recurring struggle she would have to deal with in the coming years.

Much like the duel, she would only be told what had happened afterward. The entire time she was transformed she wasn’t even aware of what was going on.

It was something that would over time become associated with fear and worry. At the time though, for an Eda who was still in denial, it was more of a source of annoyance.

Eda didn’t like that she had to rely on other people to necessarily do ‘the right thing’. Especially since in both instances so far it nearly hadn’t ended in her favor.

Thankfully of all people it was apparently Principle Bump who came to her rescue. Seeing reason when one of the other teachers had tried to suggest handing her off to the head of the Beast Keeping classes for the time being...

Bump scowled at that not particularly liking the way this conversation was going, “She is still a student. A transformed one but one nonetheless. Unless she starts attacking someone there is no reason to be summoning Arden.”

Sure, he may not be particularly fond of Eda’s antics at times. Sometimes he wished that the entire Clawthorne dynamic wasn’t like how it was. It was a source of many of his headaches.

But that did not mean he supported putting Eda in a cage.

Even if she wasn’t in her right mind currently, she was still a student. And she wasn’t being aggressive. Honestly, this other form so far hasn't been aggressive at all. Though who was to say that wouldn’t change?

He was more than a bit concerned with how little they knew. However, there was one thing he was certain on: that forcing her into a cage would make things worse, not better.

Not that he particularly liked the idea even before you factored in the fact that they’d be caging a student.

“So what do you suggest we do with her then, sir? Leaving her out could cause property damage.”

Which, arguably, was more Eda than anything else.

“Put her in my office and call a healer. Hopefully someone will know what to do to get her to transform back.”

“Sir, I must protest. Putting her with you could put you-”

Bump cut the other teacher off before he could continue. “I didn’t become the principal of this institution by sitting on my thumbs Marcus. I am more than capable of handling an unruly student. Even if she has been transformed into another creature.”

Not that he genuinely thought handling would be an issue.

=============

“So what your saying is neither of you can help.”

Bump had ended up summoning both a healer and grabbing DeFrost anyway. Hoping maybe one of them would know how to solve their issue.

“I apologize, sir. But I’m used to dealing with minor curses. Things of inconvenience mostly. Under normal circumstances, I would refer this student to a specialist. This is way beyond my own capabilities to treat.”

And of course, they couldn’t do that without involving the Clawthorne parents. Who he had tried to alert when Edalyn had transformed again. But they had both been busy and he had yet to hear anything from them yet.

“And I’ve never seen a creature quite like this. Cursed or otherwise. I could possibly see if I have anything discussing something similar to Ms. Clawthorne. However...”

“Most likely Edalyn will have transformed back by then.” Bump concluded.

So apparently they were dealing with not just a curse. But a rare curse. Great.

Why was it that nothing involving the Clawthornes was just plain and simple?

“At the very least can you tell me if she’s any sort of danger?”

That way he could have his staff stop bothering him.

DeFrost adjusted their glasses. “Well it's hard to say without knowing the curse or how it impacts her mind. But based on normal cursed creature behavior most likely she won’t be a danger to anyone unless she’s provoked. However there’s still a lot of questions there...”

“Like what could provoke her.”

“Exactly.” DeFrost nodded. “Sir, I know you said you could handle if anything happened but-”

“I can handle myself just fine Arden. I appreciate your concern but if I need your help again I will ask for it.”

“Understood sir.” DeFrost agreed reluctantly. Before taking their leave.

“Am I dismissed as well sir?”

“No. Actually I wanted to ask. I know you can’t help her return to normal. But I imagine the transformation back won’t be easy on her. Is there anything we can do to ease that at least?”

“Well yes. But that would normally involve the family…”

“I’ll handle anything that might come if they protest. This is already a difficult time for Edalyn. Let's not make it worse.”

=============

Thankfully time really was all they needed for Eda to transform back.

Though rather than answering his questions and possible suspicions. Eda’s return to awareness just raised even more of them in their steed.

“Welcome back Edalyn. How are you feeling?”

“Like an icicle is trying to drive a hole into my skull,” Eda said, wincing again rubbing the right side of her head. “What happened?”

“I believe that you will probably want this, then.” Bump rather than answer the question slid the potion that the healer had left for Eda when she finally returned to normal. “The healers figured you might have one after you transformed back.” Bump explained as Eda downed the bottle.

Eda frowned as she put the bottle down again. Now that the pain was receding she could think a bit more clearly. And realize that she couldn’t think of a reason for why she would be in the office in the first place. “Back? Wait was I-”

“Transformed into that creature from the duel? Yes.”

“I didn’t even realize it,” Eda noted with a frown. Much like the last time everything was just a giant blank from right before she transformed. Which worried her on another level. Why was she unable to remember anything from when the spell, curse, whatever it was took effect?. “I didn’t hurt anyone did I?”

“No everyone got out of your minor escapade without a scratch.” Bump assured her. Deciding to leave off the near incident with DeFrost and the cages for the moment. It wasn’t like he hadn’t specifically told them not to get the Beast Keeping professor involved.

Eda sighed in relief. “That’s good at least.”

“So you really aren’t aware of what happened after you transformed? I take it?”

“No, the last thing I remember is being in the potions classroom. And then waking up here. Everything between the two is a blank.” Eda’s face scrunched up in a frown. There was a bit of a tangible residue of some sort of memory. But she still didn’t know the relevance of it. “Mother’s going to kill me for missing class.”

“I would have thought you might be somewhat pleased by the new attention.”

After all that had been a reason behind some of Eda’s pranks over the years. Though sometimes Bump wondered just how much Eda realized this herself.

“Not like this.”

“Either way I’ll write a note. In the meantime you really should have a specialist check you.”

Eda winced. “That’s probably going to be easier said than done.”

“If it comes to it, the same offer I made to your sister when she was being given difficulty by them I’ll extend to you. If you need someone to help you get seen about this curse then I can try to help you find someone that your parents won’t cause problems with.”

Eda winced remembering the fiasco that had been trying to get her sister her glasses. There was an unfortunate high probability history could repeat itself. She really hoped her parents had maybe learned. “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you Principal Bump.”

“Your welcome.”

Eda’s unusual politeness wasn’t lost on him. Go figure the most polite conversation he had ever had with Edalyn was because of a curse.

Maybe he should have tried a different tactic with the youngest Clawthorne?

Too late to fix that now he supposed. =============

Any small hope for Eda that maybe her parents would take it seriously when she got home. And not try to toss it again under ‘something else’ didn’t last longer than five minutes after her mother got home.

“Clawthornes don’t get cursed.”

“But-” Eda began to try and protest. Absentmindedly scratching her wrists. While most of the pain had subsided with the potion Bump had given her, there were still some residual aches and pains from the transformation.

Just like last time in fact.

“End of discussion. I will not entertain this absolutely absurd discussion. Let alone the idea of taking you to a specialist.”

Eda scowled, not ready to back down without a fight. “If it's just a spell then why did it happen a second time?”

“I don’t know Edalyn, maybe someone thought they should continue the lesson.”

Eda opened her mouth to try and continue the argument. Only to have her mother disappear through the door, slamming it shut behind her.

“But I haven’t even done anything this past week.” Eda muttered to herself.

After the first idea of it being a curse had gotten into her head. She had decided to try and be better. The transformation had hurt! She hadn’t wanted to go through it again.

So as difficult as it had been she had hung up her pranking supplies. For now at least until whoever was angry with her cooled down.

If this really was because of a prank. Then someone was really vindictive was all she could say.

Either way whatever caused it wasn’t really the problem anymore. It was figuring out what to do next before the curse resurfaced a third time.

Normally she would have turned to Lily for guidance. But her sister was away at training. Meaning it was her against her parents. And she had no clue how to handle it from there.

It had always been them against the world. Even when that world sometimes included their own parents.

With the one person who may have understood their complex family dynamic gone. With her having no idea when she would see Lily again. She had no one to turn to.

Sure, Bump had once said that if she needed help to come to him. But this felt like a bit of a reach.

Maybe it was for the best to leave it alone for now. Maybe if it happened again her parents would take it seriously.

She knew that the likelihood of that happening was probably small, but what else could she even do at this point?

Her parents' reaction, while infuriating, was not entirely unexpected. And it was even less likely to change if her childhood was anything to go by. Since, if it was something that made the Clawthorne’s imperfect, then it was not to be acknowledged. Even if it impacted their own children.

And if there was anything that indicated an ‘imperfection’ it was having a curse on a child.

Titan knew how it had been a fight to get Lily her glasses. Eda couldn’t even begin to imagine how complicated things might be if this was something far more sinister than getting your sight corrected.

She guessed if she needed too she could try looking for care on her own. She was old enough now that she didn’t need her parents there at a healer’s appointment. But then again the fall out from going to a doctor when she didn’t have her own source of income.

Well it would be a mess.

Why did this have to be so complicated?

#the owl house #toh #the owl house fanfiction #eda clawthorne #disability representation

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keikaru · 3 years

Text

Valediction

Listless after the war, Felix wanders across the continent with a bleak outlook. He returns to Garreg Mach—presumably to tie up any loose ends—but Bernie and Seteth persuade him to stay and work for the Fódlan Postal Company.

While the war was harsh, assimilating to civilian life was harder. He would try if it meant seeing Sylvain again.

----

Originally posted on A03 but deleted it because I believe I could improve the quality later on. Personally, I think the story lacks some panache, so when it returns, I hope it meets my own expectations! Here’s the first draft if you’re still interested. Rest assured, I WILL revamp this story.

A Violet Evergarden AU. First draft under the cut.

Tags: Assimilating to Civilian Life, Post-Time Skip, Crossover, Fluff and Angst, Felix basically becomes an Auto Memory Doll, Pining, Suicidal Thoughts, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Characters Tags to Be Added

-----

Felix continued wearing gloves because he knew the red stains would never leave his hands.

A metallic scent always permeated through the air; the phantoms of war did not let go of his sword. Even vestiges of the past hid in mirrors and shadows, following him whenever he traveled to snowcapped lands or to fields of grass that resembled the ocean.

No matter how far he traveled, the whispers of war, blood, and regret would remain with him.

Where to then? He wondered exhaustedly. If he could not outpace his demons, what was there to do but return to the start?

He traveled for too long that even Garreg Mach seemed so far away.

Garreg Mach. The Officers Academy. Places he hasn’t stepped foot in after the war ended.

If he saw a glimpse of the Professor—the archbishop , he amended—perhaps the ghosts of war would be laid to rest. If he went back to the beginning, maybe he could make amends and disappear for a final time.

So he made up his mind.

Quite possibly, he thought, finally realizing how tense his body was, the boar, no… Dimitri would stop haunting him. Maybe Ingrid’s melancholic eyes would stop gazing at him. Maybe Glenn would stop appearing in the mirror. And maybe, just maybe Sylvain was…

No . He stopped his line of thought. There was no use indulging in the past. Nothing but painful memories awaited him.

Minutes passed before Felix unclenched his hands and slackened up.

How much longer would he live life, simply to endure it? It was enough for him to feel sick to his stomach. But perhaps it would all stop if he went back to the beginning.

…

So Felix traveled.

Despite the arduous journey, he somehow felt lighter. Calmer. As if invigorated by the prospect of returning. Not to a home, but to a memory he was fond of.

During the last week of the Great Tree Moon, Felix Hugo Fraldarius arrived at Garreg Mach Monastery.

Felix stood on the bridge that connected itself to the inner town. He shielded his eyes from the harsh sunlight and observed the skylarks that flew over him. Their song carried in the wind as he walked, taking slow but measured steps through the iron wrought gates and into the bustling marketplace.

It was disorienting when he passed a group of giggling children, past colorful merchant stalls. The fresh scent of bread wafted throughout the square and it reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in hours.

Pausing in front of a modest vendor, Felix called for the shopkeeper.

“Excuse me—” he stopped, realizing how hoarse he sounded. A quick swig of water. It was enough to replenish his voice.

Being a polite person was different from talking with one’s sword. He always had a habit of pointing to menus and never bothered with small talk.

Today, he remembered that he had to be a Person and not a Mercenary For Hire.

And yet he found himself forgetting how to speak. As if he cut off a part of himself the moment he left his noble title behind.

“How can I help—ah, pardon my manners, um, sir! Sir Felix, err, Lord Felix.”

The man quickly bowed, and Felix only stared, puzzled by the sudden formality. It had been forever since someone addressed him by the title of sir or lord.

The seller then straightened himself and continued, with a relieved expression on his face.

“I’m glad that you’re alive. I wondered where you disappeared to after the war ended.”

Felix gave the man a doubtful look and paused.

“…have we met?” The swordsman handed a few marks of bronze to the seller and pointed to a loaf of bread, cheese, and a slab of jerky. The man bagged his meal and Felix took it from him with a curt nod. “Thanks.”

As Felix turned to leave, the seller spoke up again.

“You saved my life,” the seller spoke solemnly, taking off his cap. Felix stilled. He imagined the sincerity on the man’s face as he listened. “For that, I’m grateful. Even if you don’t remember, I still wanted to thank you. May the Gods bless you, sir.”

Without another word, Felix raised a parting hand and left.

In truth, Felix did not remember the man. It was more accurate to say he did not remember much during and after those five years of war.

Now that it was over, little else seemed to matter to him. Often, he felt like a ghost that wandered for far too long. It was enough for him to take a lengthy swig from a different canteen. Alcohol was not his favorite, but the bitterness that burned in his throat helped him forget.

Somewhere near the town square and under the shade of an elderly tree, he found an empty spot. Felix then ate his meal in silence. Minutes passed and he was satisfied. He wrapped up the remainders and placed it inside his bag. With a stretch, he rested against the trunk of the pine and crossed his arms over his chest.

As the wind threaded through his hair, he listened to the quiet ambience of the town. Tranquility was a quality he used to think he wanted. But now, tranquility seemed to translate to idleness.

Like now , he thought, debating where to go next.

He closed his eyes. If anything, a quick rest would do him good. The moment he counted to ten, he promised to stand up and find an inn.

…

And just like that, he then opened his eyes and realized the sky was now a soft orange.

Ah shit . He thought blearily, straightening himself. The third time.

During all those years of traveling, it was rare for him to lower his guard. Yet somehow, he felt no signs of danger.

My senses have dulled then.

He glanced to his left. Just as he suspected, his worn bag was still beside him, seemingly untouched. It wasn’t as if he carried anything valuable except his sword.

Speaking of which, he glanced to his right. His sword was beside him. He sighed, relieved that nothing went missing.

“Felix? Are you finally awake?”

Instantly, he snapped his head toward the source and unsheathed his sword.

“What do you want?” he positioned himself into a fighting stance. Felix narrowed his eyes and berated himself. He was foolish enough to forget himself.

Ambushes could happen at any time.

“H-Hey, wait! It’s me—” the voice squeaked out, with a familiar nervous quality to it— “it’s Bernie! So please, put your sword away!”

Just like that, the sword returned to its scabbard.

The young woman before him was indeed the same girl he knew from back then. The shy, reserved daughter of Count Varley.

“Oh,” he deadpanned. “Why?”

“Wha—you ask why ?!” baffled, she huffed at him. “At the very least, you could ask how I’m doing. You haven’t changed much, have you?”

Felix lowered himself to the ground, sitting against the tree trunk again and gathered his belongings. “OK. How are you?” But then he switched topics, choosing to ignore how she flailed her arms because of his curtness. “By the way, where’s the nearest inn?”

“The nearest inn huh,” she murmured; her eyes lingered on the sword at his side. A bit of the blade poked from its scabbard and gleamed dully in the light. The expression in her eyes changed. It appeared melancholic. “Hey Felix,” she started quietly, “did you know that—"

She realized that Felix was busy fastening his bag around himself and counting the bronze and silver marks in his hand. Bernadetta paused and allowed a soft sigh.

“Something wrong?” Felix spoke, somewhat absentmindedly. He stood up, pocketed his money, and brushed off the dust on his pants. He double checked his gear. “You’re too quiet.”

Bernadetta held her hands behind her back and smiled at him. Felix inquired back with a stare.

Now she was acting odd.

Finally, he noticed how she wore an outfit that resembled a uniform. It was not the one from the Officer’s Academy but a different type.

While he was curious, he wasn’t that intrigued.

“Actually, follow me,” she piped up, turning around and vaguely gesturing at the tall brick buildings in the back. She adjusted the cap on her head. “It’s a bit of a walk but I can guarantee the place is cheaply priced.”

“Ah. Thanks then.”

He followed her and realized how much the monastery changed. The merchants in the square bustled with enterprise and quality wares. Tea imported from regions unknown to him could be found here, along with other artisan goods and regal weapons. Before leaving Garreg Mach again, he wished to see if any of Zoltan’s weapons made their way into a blacksmith’s hand.

He looked in front of him. The architecture remained largely the same, but some of the brickwork stuck out like efforts of reconstruction. Bernadetta suddenly turned, and he followed suit, wondering how much further was left.

Felix was relieved that the silence between them was companionable. Occasionally, she pointed out a few new landmarks and he was enthralled by the changes throughout the town. Fountains, lampposts, well-tended topiaries—Garreg Mach transformed much while he was away.

It somehow left him with a sense of awe and nostalgia. Except one thing gnawed at his chest.

Most of the faces he knew before—they no longer stood beside him.

…

They continued passing corners and streets and crossed a bridge. Soon, Bernadetta stopped.

Felix looked elsewhere and abruptly halted, nearly colliding into her back.

“Cheap huh?” He said, marveling at the sight before him. He could see why she stopped.

A dark bricked manor house towered above him, with long windows winking back the afternoon light. In front of the gray stone steps was a small crowd of people that varied from nobles and commoners alike.

Felix squinted at them.

Most seemed to be holding something in their hands. It appeared to be scraps of paper.

“Let’s go.” Bernadetta ambled forth, passing the iron gates and flowerbed. She paused and waited for him. “Seteth’s been waiting for you ever since we spotted you dozing at the square.”

“Excuse me?” Felix gaped at the marvelous building. He was certain that was not here years ago. His mind was unable to process her words. “You said cheap lodgings. This. This isn’t—” he gestured at the opulence and swiveled around, his back turned against the building. He frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “OK. Well, I saw an inn before we rounded the corner and—”

“Felix,” Berndetta spoke firmly, “I want you to stay here.”

A beat of silence.

He couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, perplexed by her sudden change in demeanor.

Before he could speak, Bernadetta spoke up without her usual reserve.

“How long have you been wandering the continent? Because your eyes…I know that look.”

“You’re asking me that now?” there was no heat behind his words. Only a familiar exhaustion found its way into his voice.

Felix slowly turned around and approached her, with arms folded across his chest. Her gray eyes locked onto his and they gazed at each other.

Bernadetta did not flinch. She only inquired him with her silence.

Unusually enough, he relented.

“For too long,” he admitted, glancing over her head and toward the manor house. “Well, what is it then? Why did you bring me here?”

She let out a lengthy sigh and seemed to loosen up. He didn’t realize how tense she had been throughout their walk.

“This is the Fódlan Postal Company.”

Another familiar voice segued into their conversation. Felix glanced to his right and saw a figure emerge from behind a topiary. Seteth stepped out, greeting the former students with a stern but noticeably softer look on his face. Seteth hadn’t changed after all of these years, but he wore a uniform similar to Bernadetta’s.

“Felix, I want you to work here as an Auto Memory Doll.”

“You’re kidding,” Felix managed out weakly. The sudden proposal made no sense. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’ll learn then.” Seteth offered, waving a hand at his words.

“I didn’t agree to this.”

“It’ll be worth your while.” Seteth was already walking in the direction of the entrance. “Come along, Felix.”

Felix countered one last time. “You can’t be serious.”

Felix looked to Bernadetta for help. Of course, it was a mistake. She only grabbed onto his arm, her eyes sparkling as she persuaded him.

“The lodging is free if you work here.”

“That isn’t the issue !”

Felix lost track of how many sighs he heaved that day. Unable to shake off Bernadetta, he reluctantly acquiesced and allowed himself to be dragged toward the building. A series of foul words clouded his thoughts as he passed the crowd and made his way toward the interior of the building.

Under different circumstances, he would have been impressed. Under different circumstances, he would gone more willingly. But this welcoming committee—if one could dare call it that—was so adamant about receiving him.

If anything, it felt like the past when Sylvain forced him into town for some skirt chasing. Like how Ashe insisted him to read tales of chivalry, like how Lysithea tried to bribe him with sweets, or how with Annette—

The past huh , he mused dryly. He found himself standing inside the foyer, wearily eyeing the double spiral staircases and the long window panes. As beautiful and ornate as it was, their definition of a “postal service” was greatly different from his own.

And yet…the figures that descended resembled people he knew from his academy days.

“Felix? Felix, is that really you?”

A young man with gray-brown bounded down the steps, eager to meet him. When the stranger brushed his hair out of his eyes, Felix recognized who he was.

Ashe?

Lord Lonato’s son was before him. He smiled at Felix, with a relieved look on his face.

“You promised to write. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”

“There’s no such thing as a permanent address as a mercenary,” Felix replied stiffly, somewhat taken aback. “Your letters—they would have returned to you.”

“But you’re here now,” Ashe said again, with a gentler look on his face. “And hey, I’m glad you’re OK.”

Felix was at a loss for words. Instead, he looked elsewhere, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden warmth and reception from his appearance.

Seteth and Bernadetta looked at each other and smiled. They didn’t speak but only watched as Felix rubbed the back of his neck while Ashe continued to speak to him.

Just then, more figures descended the staircase. Felix struggled to recall who they were, but the moment they stood in front of him, their names entered his memory.

Marianne, Ignatz, Linhardt.

Yuri and Dorothea.

They were all members of the academy in some way, even if he wasn’t close to them, he still recognized them.

Felix felt his chest tightened. A well of emotion opened. He felt something, but it was a strange something that left him feeling more melancholic than joyful.

He blinked, not once, not twice, but three times. Aside from the smiling faces and animated conversations, he could have sworn he saw phantoms behind them.

And they watched him with somber eyes.

“Felix? You look like you just saw a ghost,” Dorothea piped up, glancing at him with concerned eyes. “You must be tired. Seteth, isn’t there a spare room upstairs?”

“There is. Bernadetta, could you show Felix his room?”

She replied quickly. “Follow me!”

With a gentle nudge from her, Felix followed. He managed to recompose again.

Soon, they reached a rosewood door with a gold handle. Bernadetta unlocked the door and gestured for him to enter. Felix did.

It was minimally furnished. The windows were across from the door, with a desk underneath. A bed was pushed into the left corner while the right side had a dresser and a mirror.

Bernadetta stood inside the room, pausing a little before the dresser on the right side. Her eyes roamed the room for a bit before catching Felix’s reflection in the mirror.

The faraway look in Felix’s eyes, the way he mechanically moved toward the window—it was plain to see that he was deeply contemplating something.

She hesitated to ask, but at the same time, she recalled how he vanished without a trace. Rumors of Felix’s whereabouts only amplified when a sword that resembled his own appeared on Margrave Gautier’s doorstep.

By chance, she delivered some correspondence to Sylvain that day. He started to entertain her until another parcel arrived.

She remembered how his eyes exuded a grief beyond words, that the one Sylvain cherished was not immune to a mortal fate.

While the rumors of Felix’s death proved false, the way the mercenary was now…he might as well resemble death.

It pained her to see him become a husk of a person.

If anything, it would anguish Sylvain even more after seeing Felix in this state. When the time was right, she would pen a letter to him again.

On some level, she understood how Felix felt, even if just a fraction of it.

Assimilating into civilian life was difficult. For part of their youth, they learned tactics and strategies, artillery and battle formations. From operating catapults to forging stronger weapons, it was such a stark contrast when she started ghostwriting and delivering letters.

And yet…it made her rediscover her love for writing again.

Clearing her throat, she found the courage to approach Felix.

He stood near the window, steeped in hues of twilight. Felix tilted his head up and observed something she couldn’t quite see. She couldn’t help but feel mesmerized.

“Seteth will see to the details tomorrow. So for today, focus on resting.”

“Alright.”

Before Bernadetta left, she spoke softly to him.

“And welcome back, Felix. You don’t have to feel alone anymore.”

#fire emblem three houses #my fic #felix hugo fraldarius #sylvain jose gautier #violet evergarden #fire emblem x violet evergarden #crossover #au #auto memory doll au #implied sylvix #Bernadetta von Varley #seteth #canon compliant but just with violet evergarden's postal service #one day I’ll revamp this AU

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

Text

Second Cousins?

Byers x second cousin!reader

warnings:

a/n: THIS IS SUCH A REACH LMAO BARE WITH ME I LITERALLY HAD TO LOOK AT A CHART btw you’re about jonathans age? ig? idk but this is NOT romantic that’s frickin gross. p.s. horowitz is winona ryders name

prompt:

You crawled out of bed to the sound of your dad screaming for you. What time was it?

12:38pm

Great. You slept the whole day and now you have to help your extended family move in immediately. You rolled off your mattress and scrambled to get some clothes. You hadn’t seen this side of the family since Christmas of 1978!

You’d regret not eating breakfast, but not yet. You walked outside, pushing your hair from your face and waiting for your family to exit their respective cars. Your “first-cousin-once-removed,” Joyce, got out first. (You just call her “Aunt Joyce”).

“Hey, guys! Long time no see.” She smiled. “Oh, my god, y/n. Is that you?” She walked up to you and gave you a hug.

“Hey there, Aunt Joyce. We’ve missed you a whole lot.” You looked over her shoulder and saw a younger girl, maybe 13 or 14. You’d never seen her in your life. Her eyes were definitely tear stained, her hair falling out of her scrunchie, and the sleeves on her flannel rolled up. “Who’s the girl?”

“Oh, uh, that would be El. She’s a...‘new addition’ to our family.” Joyce put in air quotes.

“Wicked. I’d love to get to know her better.” You stuck your hands in your pockets and watched the boys get out of their car. “I’d like to catch up with the boys, too. It’s been years. I mean, I know we talk on the phone every once in a blue moon, but this is so exciting! You guys are gonna be living with us now!”

“Only for a little while.” She sighed.

“We’ll make the most of it.” You gave her another hug and moved towards the boys.

“Jonny Byers. You got taller.” You joked with him.

“Bring it in.” He welcomed you with open arms.

“What’s up, kiddo?” You gave Will a high five. “You still drawing that cool ass art?”

“Yeah, I have a ‘portfolio’ now. Jonathan made me put one together.” Will snickered.

“Hey, artists need them. I have one for my pictures.” Jonathan reasoned.

“Well, Will, when you’re all settled in, you’re gonna have to sit me down and show me what you’ve got. You know, I still have that picture you drew me last time I saw you.” You told him.

“Really? I was like, seven.” He shook his head.

“Yeah, seven and truly gifted.” You turned your attention to your other “second cousin,” “And as for you, I’ve got all those old vinyls and some new ones, too. What about you?”

“I have more cassette’s than vinyls, but I’ll make sure we have time to share.” He punched your arm.

“That’s what I like to hear. Now let’s go help your mom and El unload the truck.” You turned around and Will and Jonathan followed you.

“Oh, you heard about El?” Will asked.

“Your mom said she was a ‘new addition to the family.’” You quoted.

“Yeah, that’s a pretty accurate description.” Will nodded. “She’s shy, I wouldn’t push her into conversation.”

“Noted.” You picked up a box and carried it inside. There were two spare rooms. One for Joyce and El and one for the boys. Good thing they didn’t mind sharing. You put the box into Joyce’s room, then headed right for the truck. The next box was labeled “HOPPER.” You lifted it up and an your way into the house, you ran into El.

“I can take that one.” She told you quietly.

“You sure?” You raised your eyebrows and she nodded. You handed her the box and went back to the truck.

“Hey, Horowitz, wanna help me grab this mattress?” Jonathan asked. You jogged up to hig and grabbed one side. “Got it? Alright, be careful.” You guys got the mattress inside, and then the other two.

“Alright, what’s next?” You asked.

“I’m actually kinda hungry.” Jonathan wiped the sweat off his forehead. “What about you?”

“Starving. Go round the gang up, I know a great place to get some lunch.” You told him. Jonathan went around and got all of the family together. There was only six of you. You, dad, Joyce, El, Jonathan, and Will. You all squeezed into one car and hit the road. Really, it was only a 10 minute drive.

“This was my Grandma Darlene’s favorite place to eat before she passed away. We always sit at her booth.” You told your cousins in the back seat. El was in between Joyce and your dad in the front. “Ooh! We’re here.”

You approached the door and your dad opened it up for everyone. You waved at the waitresses you had known so well and went to your usual spot. You each picked up a menu as the waitress asked for drinks.

Water for you, coffee for your dad, water for Jonathan, Sprite for Will, Diet Pepsi for Joyce, and lemonade for El.

“So, boys, what’s been going on in Hawkins? Any significant people or events you wanna talk about?” You questioned the boys.

“Well, Jonathan’s got a girlfriend who leaves lipstick marks all over his face.” Will taunted.

“Oh, shut it.” Jonathan pulled his straw up and took a sip of his drink. “Yeah, her name is Nancy. We’ve been together for almost a year. She’s a badass.”

“How so?” You bit down on a piece of ice.

“She’s determined to get what she wants. We had an internship at the local newspaper and she was an assistant, but she really wanted to be a reporter. She did every possible thing she could to do it. Followed stories, wrote them, suggested topics in meetings...” Jonathan gushed.

“And did she get to be a reporter?” You asked, turning your head sideways.

“No, she actually got us fired.” He chuckled. “But she stood up for herself, that’s why I love her.”

“She sounds great, will she be visiting you soon?” You asked him. “I’d love to show her the embarrassing pictures of us with marker all over our backs and faces when you lived here in ‘73. And the pictures of you pretending to be Super-Man. Can’t forget those ones.”

“Oh, my god, you still have those?” He laughed. “Yes, she’s visiting on Thanksgiving with her brother, Mike.” El’s head perked up. “Mike is Will’s best friend...and El’s boyfriend.”

“Is that so?” You smiled and turned to her. “What’s he like?”

“He’s...funny. And awkward. And a nerd.” She mumbled to you.

“He sounds very pleasant. Can’t wait to meet him.” You winked at her and she gave you a sweet little smile. You were very curious to hear what she had to say.

The waitress came back to take your orders. You and your dad got your usuals, Jonathan got a hamburger, El and Will got hot dogs, and Joyce got soup.

“You guys should try the rice pudding afterwards, it’s really good!” You told them and your dad rolled his eyes. “It is!”

“Pudding with rice in it?” El asked.

“Seriously, you gotta have some.” You told her. “I love it cold with cinnamon on it.” Your cousins were staring at you curiously. “C’mon, if you don’t eat it, I will.”

“Darlene loved her rice pudding.” Joyce chuckled. “You know, you look just like her.”

“I tell y/n that every day.” Your dad said. “It’s the eyes, I swear.”

“And the nose.” Joyce added.

“Oh, yeah.” Your dad agreed. The waitress came with rice pudding for everyone but your dad. Joyce ate it without a question, she had it every holiday with your grandma growing up. Your cousins (including El) stared at it hesitantly, then each took a bite. Jonathan remembered eating it once and hating it. Will spit it out. El took a second bite.

“Like it, El?” You asked.

“Not bad.” She actually managed to finish it.

“Sweet.” You did the same. “Anyone wanna make brownies tonight, or something?”

“Me!” El lit up. You were happy that she was warming up to you so fast.

“Sounds like a plan, we’ll make them from scratch.”

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writings-in-ebony · 4 years

Text

Heritage - Chapter 2 Steve Rogers/Black!reader

Summary: The annual Gathering is approaching causing all Irish wolves to come and celebrate their history together during a five-day week filled with feasts, games, entertainment, and storytelling. However, The Hunt is also during this time and Steve is volun-told to participate in this Coming-of-Age ceremony by none other than his grandfather. To have a successful hunt, one must possess all the attributes of a wolf to succeed, but Steve doesn’t have that. How can he successfully complete the challenge (and not die) when he can barely make it down the stairs without collapsing into an asthmatic fit?

Author’s note: Hello everyone! Sorry for the late submission, but life outside has a way of killing the writing muse and distracting me. I struggled through the beginnings of his chapter, but as you can tell, steam was picked up as my excitement grew. I would also like to point out that I tried to do extensive research on wolf mythology in Irish culture. If it is not accurate, please let me know and I’ll promptly correct it. I like to be as concise as possible with my works. As always, likes and reblogs are well received and I love comments and asks! Thanks again, everyone!

P.S. I’m sorry the reader has not shown up yet! It’s such a slow burn but I want to build the story up!

Word Count: 3341

Warnings: Bad language and a singular event of physical abuse

Chapter 2: The Hunt Part I

Cashel watched on as the contractors he hired lifted a wooden beam that would eventually be part of an intricate large tent. The tent will house three long wooden tables and benches, all made from the wood of the ash trees that grew in his homeland. They didn’t take long to import and the wood maker he had hired was a family friend. The man has been making crafts for them for well over twenty years and there was just something special about his work that caused them to keep requesting. With the tables that Cashel needed for this event, he specially carved the family’s crest into the top of the table and poured resin into the gaps to smooth it back out. It was beautiful and each tabletop was glossed and stained to bring out the rustic coloring. Marvelous, he had praised when he first saw them released from the shipping box.

One of the workers was drilling in the beam when his assistant, a relatively young wolf by the name of Finnian, approached him with his notebook in hand. The lad was lean, average height, and had a soft face that didn’t match his stern, cold eyes. Cashel had recruited him during the latter parts of the fifties, and he has been pleased with his work ever since. Finnian was prompt, organized, and quick on his feet whenever things went south. Cashel had also noted the young man had a dark streak to him, which complemented his unwavering loyalty to the family and his boss.

Finnian, who was already opening his notebook before he reached Cashel, was looking to finalize plans, receive a few confirmations, and update Cashel on all the arrangements and changes that are taking place. “Sir, I need to update you on a few things,” he had begun, formal and professional about everything.

“Firstly, I confirmed the menu with the chef, and he has already begun making preparations for the dinner. The baker has delivered the cakes and pies. However, she tried to skimp on one, but she was able to dock off some of the cost after some nudging. The contactors are, as you know, in the middle of their building and they will be done well in advance.” Cashel nodded, pleased with the news. But he didn’t say anything because he knew Finnian wasn’t done.

“Now, as for the Coming of Age ceremony, I have made sure that there are roadblocks and barriers put in place to prevent any…unnecessary leavings of the property. There are also barrier markers in the woods at the edge of the land. And some of the men have volunteered to stand watch and prevent anyone from entering and leaving without permission. As for the ceremony, I have three boy’s names down: Matt, Sean, and Miguel.”

“Steve,” Cashel provided. Finnian’s eyes widened and he paused at Cashel’s sudden addition. Without looking at the lad’s face, Cashel continued. “Add Steve’s name. He shall be participating in the Coming of Age ceremony, too. And make sure he and his mother are notified.”

“But sir, Steve…” he trailed off, wondering if it was his place to ask the question.

“I understand. Steve is lacking the physical qualities that are preferred to participate in The Hunt, but I believe he can still participate with what he has. The boy is smart, and a fighter. I know he is the runt to everyone else, but there is something under that weak exterior that is trying to fight its way out. And I want to be there when it does.” Cashel’s words didn’t ease Finnian in the slightest. In fact, they worried him and confused him. The boy was going to die, Finnian thought as he wrote down his name under the list of participants.

“He wants me to do what?!” Steve screamed, face red and blotchy as he looked into Bucky’s worried eyes. “I-I can’t do the Coming of Age ceremony! I-I’m not, I c-can’t even run to the bathroom without having an asthma attack and increasing my risk of heart failure! And now the old coot wants me to compete against my strong ass cousins in an effort to show off what, my ability to die at the slightest breeze?!” He was breathing very heavily, almost wheezing, and Bucky reached into his pocket for the back-up inhaler.

“Hey, it’s not that bad,” Bucky softly answered, but the responding glare aimed back at him told him that wasn’t the best approach. “Okay, listen, you’ll be given the tools you need to complete the challenge okay? And guess what, knowing you, you’ll do great!”

Steve flopped down on the bed, shrinking into himself and putting his face into his hands. “I knew my grandfather was trying to kill me. I bet he’s like, ‘Oh ho ho, let’s put him in the ceremony. That way he can die without it being on anyone’s conscious.’ Acting like I’m not the fucking runt.”

“Steven Grant Rogers, I know that’s not your voice I hear dishing out that horrible language,” came his mother’s stern voice. Steve jumped in surprise and watched his mother enter the room, a garment bag dangling over her arm.

“Sorry mam,” he grumbled. Bucky stood to the side and watched as Mrs. Rogers went to the bed and laid the garment bag down.

“Apology accepted,” she smirked, unzipping the front and exposing about five outfits for Steve. Her son let out an irritated groan and she quickly shut him up. “No, none of that. You know this is an important event and you need to look the part. Especially given you’re now in the ceremony!” She looked excited, but Bucky could smell the presence of nervousness and fear. She felt the same hesitations as Steve, but she couldn’t voice them unless she wanted to discourage her son. Even so, the matter was out of her hands.

“Now, c’mon and try on these outfits. I want my son to look good for the ladies this weekend!”

The Hunt was only a small celebration within a larger one called The Gathering. The Gathering was the annual meeting of Irish wolves to celebrate their origin, survival, and thriving heritage. It has been held for centuries, usually somewhere within Ireland, but after the Gathering of 42’, it was decided that it should be held within America. It was a safety and security issue, and Cashel had taken up the mantle of hosting the event at his mountain estate every year.

The Gathering consisted of five days of events and various festivities. The first day was dedicated to the history of Irish wolves and everything involving the lore and stories behind their origins. A huge bonfire will be erected, and everyone will gather around to listen to the elders' recount old tales, both scary and mesmerizing. Steve always loved the tales, even if he’s heard them every year. They were so inspiring and made him proud to be part of a family with so much history. They told tales of the Laignach Faelad, a tribe of wolf-men who followed under the cruel rule of Crom Cruach and demanded payment in the form of newborn babies. Or the fight between Morrigan and Cúchulainn and how the goddess shifted into a giant wolf and caused destruction in her path. The stories were also exaggerated to make them more outlandish, but they were always entertaining, and everyone listened attentively every year as if they were brand new.

The second day would be dedicated to various games, tournaments, and music. It was an all-day party that ended in a giant feast and all the alcohol anyone could dream of. There wasn’t much Steve could do on this day since it mostly required you have the strength and skills of a wolf, so he usually just cheered his cousins on as he stood off to the side.

The third was a day of rest. A day where everyone tried to get over their hangovers and compose themselves before the big ceremony. A simple dinner was held, and it was usually a peaceful affair. There might be some rowdy individuals, but most just ate their dinner and either talked about the previous day or the one to come.

The fourth day was the big ceremony: The Coming-of-Age ceremony. This is where the chosen youth come forward and participate in a challenge and upon successful completion, they will fully be recognized as adults. It was a very important event amongst the family and every young wolf must participate if they want to be accepted and respected. The ceremony started with another big feast. The participants are sat in the middle of the table and given a hearty helping of food to increase their energy. Once that is done, the elders will announce each of them and give a speech on what it means to be an Irish wolf. And then, begins The Hunt.

Steve was brought out of his thoughts when he realized his name was being called repeatedly. He gazed up from the book in his hand (he wasn’t actively reading it anyway) and saw his father standing in the doorway. His face was a mix between nervousness and irritation, probably because he has been calling his son’s name numerous times. “Yeah?” Steve asked, curious as to why his father was here. He never came to Steve’s room. It was like a silent agreement between the two. They stayed out of each other’s way and never had to deal with each other. But here they were, staring at each other as Joseph leaned against the frame of Steve’s bedroom door, looking at Steve with a weird smirk on his face.

“I just wanted to see how my son was doing,” Joseph chuckled. Steve’s frown deepened. This was highly unusual. Joseph saw the open expression of confusion cross his son’s face and his own smirk faltered. “What, I can’t see how you are doing?”

“You never come here,” Steve shot back. Was there something he did wrong? Did his father want something from him?

Realizing that Steve was not buying the fact his father became suddenly attentive and caring, Joseph eased off the doorframe and entered the room. “I heard you are participating in The Hunt.”

“Yeah, granddad volunteered me. Apparently, he has this notion that I’d be a great candidate for it, and I need to have the “experience”,” he raised his hands and did an air-quote on the word “experience.”

Joseph shifted his feet and chuckled, “Yeah, that’s your grandfather for you. Always making decisions for himself without considering others. But you know you can opt-out of it right?” Steve closed his book, narrowing his eyes at his father.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying, son, let’s be real. If you go out there, you’re going to die, and it won’t be pretty either. Your mother is already worried sick about you going into this thing without a lick of strength and skills to guide you. So, yeah, you can save yourself by opting out. It won’t hurt anyone’s feelings and I’ll make sure your grandfather knows. Okay?” He actually had the audacity to aim a smile at Steve, like he didn’t just propose that he become the ultimate coward in front of his family.

“No one has ever backed out of The Hunt before,” Steve sneered.

“I know, I know, but listen. It won’t be that problematic. I’ll talk to the elders; your granddad and I’ll make sure you catch no slack from it. Everyone will understand why you want to opt-out.”

“So, you want me to…to become a damn coward?! To become the only person in the entire Rogers family, no scratch that. In the entire history of Irish wolves, to not participate in The Hunt? Really? You really think I want that on my name along with the fact I’m a literal runt?!” His voice raised at his father because he couldn’t believe his father would try to talk him out of something so important. Now, don’t get him wrong, Steve didn’t want to participate in the ceremony to begin with, but he’d have to at some point. So, he wanted to go ahead and get it out the way, hoping that luck was on his side and he wouldn’t die in the process. But he didn’t think his father’s hatred for him was deep enough to talk Steve out of finally being seen as something more than a stain on the family. No, Joseph didn’t want to be seen as the man who had an embarrassment for a son. He’d rather his son live his life silently as a runt than go out and get himself humiliated and killed during such an important event. It would only solidify the fact that he might not be a great heir to inherit the Rogers throne. He’d be the man who carried the weakest genes.

“I didn’t come here to start a fight, Steve. I’m only trying to protect you,” he began but was immediately cut off.

“You came here to protect your image. Not once have you shown any concern for me. No, you only care about what I’d make you look like if I participated in The Hunt. Well, sorry, Dad, I’m going to be in The Hunt and if I die, so be it.”

Joseph’s eyes flared a bright, blinding blue, his anger clear across his face. “You are a selfish child! And I don’t need you to solidify my place as a family heir anyway because your grandfather has already made it known that he will announce an heir to the family this weekend. And since your uncles have no knowledge of any of the business that goes on with the family, guess who is left to lead? ME.”

“Oh great! An ego booster that you don’t need.”

“I will not be disrespected by some child who can’t even breathe straight half the time. Especially one who is willing to put their mother through the pain of losing a child!”

“Is it comparable to the pain you put her through when you fuck around with other women?” The slap didn’t register to Steve until his face was already turned towards the other wall. The sting of his cheek followed soon after and he could already feel it swelling. When he turned his head back forwards, he saw his father standing over him, eyes blazing with sweltering anger. His hand was still raised, and his breathing was coming out more raggedly as if he had just run a mile. Steve glared right back at him, hoping his face was showing the same level of hatred.

“Sir, Mr. Cashel has requested you to be at his mansion as soon as possible. He’s looking to speak with you on some of the plans for the weekend,” Bucky piped in, face stoic and composed. Joseph, hearing the man’s voice, jumped back from Steve and straightened himself out.

“Ah, yes. I’ll be there shortly,” and with that, he hurried from the room. Bucky watched the man leave, waiting until he was around a corner before entering Steve’s room and shutting the door. He quickly went to the bathroom and prepared a warm towelette covered in water and rubbing alcohol. Steve silently took it and placed it on his cheek.

They sat in silence for a good minute, listening to the sounds of cars as they passed by the front of the house. “How much did you hear?” Steve eventually asked, eyes aimed at the window.

“Enough,” Bucky supplied, sounding grim.

“Do you think I’m in the wrong?” Steve turned to look this time. Bucky’s face softened and his head slowly shook from side to side.

“No…You have every right to do it,” Bucky sat on the edge of the bed, aiming a small smile at Steve. “Plus, you have that determined look. Even if I tell you no, you’ll still do it anyway.”

“You’re damn right,” Steve grumbled. “I’ll show them all I can do it. Even if it does kill me.”

Things with Joseph did not get resolved by the time the weekend started. Sarah, who was ignorant of the exact reason why her boys were acting strange, tried to ease the tension with conversation and excited talk about the events to come. But it did nothing but make the long drive up to the mountains more awkward. She had given up three-fourths of the way and they all just sat quietly as the radio droned on.

When they reached Cashel’s mountain estate, they saw that there were already quite a few people already there. Eight cars were neatly parked in a line towards the edge of the lot and Steve recognized two to belong to his Uncles Brennan and Aiden. Joseph must have recognized them too because he was currently cursing under his breath.

Everyone in the family knew that Joseph was not liked by his uncles, Cashel’s brothers. And while Steve didn’t know the exact details of what caused the dissonance, he faintly heard that his father had said the wrong thing at the wrong time and has been on their hate list since then. Add that to the fact they thought of him as a lowly individual and constantly berated him whenever things went to hell. If they thought that bad of him now, wait until they heard he was being considered as the next leader. Steve can already imagine the looks of disapproval and distaste.

Thankfully, Steve and his mother never had an issue with Cashel’s brothers. If anything, they adored Sarah and Steve and wondered how both of them ended up stuck with Joseph for a husband and a father. It was hilarious and they made Joseph the butt of their jokes whenever he came around. And while Sarah tried to defend him, Steve always laughed along and agreed with half the shit they said. Mainly because it was true.

They climbed out of the car and walked towards the front of the mansion, already consumed by its great shadow. The large wooden front door was opened to reveal Cashel, who looked down upon them with a huge smile and a glass of wine in his right hand. “Son! Daughter-in-law! Grandson! Welcome!” he cried. Deeper within the mansion, music could be heard, and someone’s laughter cut through.

“Hello, father,” Joseph uttered as he crossed the threshold. He bypassed Cashel’s open arms and made his way further inside. However, it was noted the way he looked around as if looking for someone. Or maybe trying to hide from a specific pair of individuals.

Sarah, on the other hand, walked into her father-in-law’s open arms and hugged him. She smiled brightly and started giving compliments to the Cashel about the house and how she was looking forward to another year of enjoyment. Cashel thanked her and eased her inside. But he paused and looked back at Steve. Steve stood just outside the door and looked up at his grandfather’s face. The man’s merry smile was replaced with something darker, more mischievous. As if he was hiding a secret that only he knew.

“And hello Steven,” the man grinned, making Steve suddenly uncomfortable.

“Hey, granddad,” he muttered.

“Are you excited about this weekend?” The smile was gone, replaced by his signature intense stare.

“I don’t know if I’ll do good. I mean, I’m not really cut out for…The Hunt, or anything. I don’t want to disappoint you or the family,” Steve gulped, hating he was showing any slight weakness in front of Cashel. But what he didn’t expect was his grandfather’s firm grip on his shoulder, pulling him into the mansion and leading him through the hallway towards the music.

“Don’t worry Steven. I believe you are fully capable of completing the ceremony. And hell, you might even surprise us.” Steve looked up at his grandfather’s face, trying to read the man, but there was nothing but a knowing smile. And before he could inquire the man about what he said, he was called away.

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