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romerona · 1 year

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Chapter 2: Demetor on the train.

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ɪᴛ ꜰɪɴᴅꜱ ʏᴏᴜ. ꜰᴏʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴇᴍᴇʀꜱᴏɴ, ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ, ɪᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴏꜰꜰ ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴇᴛ… ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ.

Harry James Potter x OC

Masterlist.

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"Emma!"

Padma and Love greeted excitedly once they stepped inside the almost empty compartment.

Emmanuel looked up from his book, The Fellowship of the Ring, his features turning into an annoying glare, but Love could see the relief in his warm eyes. "Took you lot long enough, I was starting to wonder if you'll make it in time and hoping you didn't so I could finally have a moment's peace."

"Oh, don't kid yourself." Padma huffs, as she settles next to the boy after placing her satchel on the luggage rack.

Love sat down near the window, in front of Emmanuel, placing hoppy on her lap. "You'll be so bored without us, Emma."

Emmanuel and Love met by chance or rather by a song. In the first year of Hogwarts, Love was in the library one evening, finishing her potions essay, and she has a terrible habit of humming whenever she's doing something she enjoys, that day she was humming one of Selena Quintanilla's songs, her Ma's favourite artist when an unfamiliar voice asked her if she was humming to Baila Esta Cumbia.

Love was shocked at first to see the boy from her house who usually sits by himself, whose only company was a book and glares at everything that moves his way talking to her, not to mention the utter surprise she felt to hear someone in Hogwarts knew about Selena.

She was swift to tell him that it was indeed that song, he regarded her for a moment before taking a seat at her table not even bothering to ask if he could, he took his time bringing his books and quills out of his bag before casually asking how she knew of Selena as she was a white English girl in Hogwarts.

Love thought it was funny because he was right, and it wasn't the first time she was hit with a remark like that, her siblings all like to tease her about it too, the whitest girl you could imagine singing Paquita la del barrio without stuttering was a humorous sight.

She told him that it was her mother's favourite artist and that her grandparents were in Mexico so when she visits she usually listens to songs like those frequently. The boy didn't say anything, he observed her again in thought before nodding in approval.

Love also asked him how he knew of the artist and his answer was 'Because I have taste,' he said before quickly adding 'And Selena's my favourite entertainer.'

They stayed in surprisingly comfortable silence for a few minutes, each occupied with their assignments when he blurted out his name. 'I'm Emmanuel Salazar' followed by a quick 'And before you ask, no, I have no relation with Slytherin.' Love smiled and held her hand out while introducing herself, Emma was hesitant to shake it but when he finally did, a grin appeared on his face.

Love and Emma became best friends pretty quickly, they had too much in common not to. Emma, like herself, was a muggle-born, and as much as she appreciates and is grateful for Padma's help it wasn't the same to experience the Wizarding World with someone who already knew about it as someone who's new to all of it.

But the fact that she was friends with Emma didn't mean she stopped being friends with Padma, no, Love introduced Emma to Padma soon after meeting him. At first, they didn't get along, Padma was 'too much' for Emmanuel and Emma was 'too stuck up' for Padma as both of them complained about the other to Love.

The problem between them was that the two of them had strong personalities, and whatever the other said, either of them took it personally and it didn't help how blunt both of them could be at times. Love was always the mediator, trying to find a common ground, but never finding something that lasted enough for the two of them to stop arguing. For a moment Love thought the friendship wouldn't work, but then, Quidditch season started, and the common ground was laid for them on a silver platter.

At the first game of the season, Love had convinced the two to put their differences aside for the game so they could all go together and they agreed but not without expressing their reluctance about it.

Regardless, Love's excitement to watch the Quidditch game never deflated, even if neither of the houses was her own, and she could tell Padma and Emma were excited as well which only made it better for her.

They decided to support Gryffindor because it was Parvati's house, Padma's sister, who invited them to sit down with the red and golden house to support them. Once in their seats, Emma commented on Harry Potter, the famous boy who lived being the youngest in the Gryffindor team, which made Padma explain that he was the youngest in every team along the houses as first years aren't allowed to play, and he was only playing because they made an exception.

'Lucky git, he must be very good if they allowed him to play.' Emma said and Padma was quick to agree with him which took Love by surprise. 'His father, James Potter was also on the team and apparently a very good player too, he must have got it from him.'

'What position is Potter playing?' asked Love, looking at the open field, having enough knowledge about the sport to know why there were hoops on each end of the field.

"Seeker." Emma and Padma answered in unison.

Love blinked, her knowledge of the game was limited. "And what's that?"

"They catch the Golden Snitch, which is super important because catching the Snitch gives the team 150 points." Explained Emma, swiftly.

"Ohh okay."

"I thought this was your first game." Said Padma looking at Emma with amusing suspicion. "How do you know so much about Quidditch?"

Emmanuel sent her a quick look. "Well, I happen to be intrigued about this sport so I read about it... although I don't think I'll ever be able to play it."

"What? Why not, Quidditch is amazing?"

"It is but flying is just not for me, too much risk of falling."

"You'll be missing out, I'm planning on trying out next year...."

"Oh, I see a lady with a trolley." Love said to them as she stood on her tiptoes. "I'm going, do you want something? Chocolate frogs? Exploding Bonbons? Maybe a pasty if they sell them?"

"What position?"

"—Guys?

"Beater, my Pa told me I had an arm of steel."

Realizing they weren't listening to Love, she just nodded mumbling. "Oh, I'll just grab you a couple of chocolate frogs then."

It went like that for the entire game, Love could hardly put a word in the conversation, but she didn't mind though, she spent most of her time getting to know Parvati who she was surprised to realize was the calmer of the twins and a girl named Lavender, she was nice. Love was pleased she was making more friends, but most importantly she was happy Emma and Padma finally got along. Even if it was over Quidditch.

"Hardly." He rolled his eyes, but a small smile grew on his face which he quickly covered with his book. "So, how were your summers?"

Padma shrugged, hopping her feet up into love's side. "Fine, a little boring at the end – Oh! Maa took Parvati and me to buy some jewellery, I'll show you my new bangles when we get to Hogwarts, for now, let me display my new rings. Behold."

"Woahh." Love smiles, looking at the pretty golden rings in her fingers as Padma theatrically moves her head up for Emma and her to see. "They're Gorgeous, Paddy."

"I know." Padma smiled proudly.

Emma glanced at them and smiled teasingly at Padma. "Well, look at you all classy, didn't think you had it in you."

"Ha. Ha." Padma glared at him while pulling on his brown hair making him hiss.

Emma closed her book and hit her arm with it, making Padma gasp outrageously. And before she knew it Padma and Emma were wrestling.

"Oh, stop it for Rowena's sake." Love rolled her eyes while pushing both of them apart. "It's like being back with Ezra and Kiara all over again, by the way, Tara said hi."

Huffing back into their seats, Emma opened his book where he left off while Padma crossed her arms and placed her feet up again.

"How was your vacation, Emma?" Love asked, stroking hoppy on his dry back.

"Good," Emmanuel said, eyes glancing at the two girls who looked at him expectantly. "I did what I like, read, eat and sleep. That's a great way to spend my Holidays if you ask me."

"Lame." Padma coughs into her hand making Emma glared at her.

"Well, it's not like I would like to go anywhere else anyway, not with that mad man missing."

"I'll give you the reason for that, my Pa and Maa didn't want Parvati and I to go alone to Diagon Alley."

Love frowns in confusion looking between her friends. "Why? Who's missing?"

Padma and Emma looked at her incredulously, making Love's frown deepen. "What?"

"What do you mean 'what?" Padma exclaimed.

Emma shook his head, grabbing something from inside his bag. "Merlin, where have you been?"

"I spent the last month with my grandparents, I just came back yesterday night." Love told them as she grabbed the Daily Prophet off Emma's hands. "Why? Did something—-"

Something happened indeed, Peter Pettigrew a convicted murderer, escaped Azkaban, a sunken-faced man with long, matted blonde hair and dead blue eyes staring at Love from the front page.

Love thumb through the article, mouth going agape as she read the terrible things he's convicted off. "Bloody hell, how long has he been missing?"

"As far as we the people know, a month but I know he's been missing for longer than that." Said Emma, pointing his finger at the date on the paper. "The ministry is trying to keep the truth from us, but they ain't fooling me."

"Wait wait." Padma turned to him frowning, holding her hand out. "You've held this paper a whole month?"

Emma turned slightly pink, but his eyes were sharp."It's for safety, so we can recognize him if we ever come across him."

"The entire Wizarding World knows his face, I'm sure if we don't recognize him someone will." Padma rolled her eyes, the teasing grin never leaving her face.

Emma huffed, opening his book again, ignoring Padma's grin. "I'll rather be safe than sorry, but then again that's me, if you want to go ahead and get yourself killed be my guest."

Padma crosses her arms in disbelief. "I doubt Pettigrew will be dumb enough to show up at Hogwarts."

"What about Hogsmeade?" Emma retorted, eyes still on his book yet his eyes never left a spot on the page. "Bet you didn't think about that, did you?"

Love eyes shinned as she remembered about the Hogsmeade trip this year, forgetting about the man on the front of the Daily Prophet.

"On that note." She cut through the argument, looking excitedly between her two friends as she folds the paper. "Are you two excited for Hogsmeade as I am?"

The mood inside the compartment dramatically changed, Padma's scowl turn into a smile that mirrored Love's and Emmanuel put his book down, a pleasant air around him.

"More than excited, I can't believe we're finally going to Hogsmeade," Padma said, eagerly.

Emma nodded solemnly in agreement."I, for one, can't wait to visit. There are so many places I'll like to visit, like Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop or the famous Shrieking Shack—"

"Let me guess, you read about all of that in a book." Padma rolled her eyes.

Emma sent her a small glance. "Well, where else? I like to be informed, you know that."

"I take it, you've got a list of the places you want to visit?" Asked Love, feeling a sudden yawn approaching.

"Well, yes but it's not like I've made a schedule or anything," Emma said quickly, a little bashful. "I figured we'll explore first, y'know, go with the flow."

"Who are you and what have you done to our Emmanuel?" Padma exclaimed with a smile stretching on her face.

"Stop it."

"She's right." Love said, mirroring Padma's smile while crossing her arms. "Our Emma would have never said something like 'go with the flow."

"I just think we should just enjoy our trip, no need for theatrics."

Padma smiled teasingly but nodded in agreement. "And for one I agree with you, we should enjoy Hogsmeade, there's so much to do, like Honeydukes."

"Oh, is it that place that sells sweets?" Love chokes out, stretching tiredly.

"Yep, there are so many sweets from where to choose from, like coconut ice, ice mice, creamy chunks of nougat...." Padma's voice seemed to come and go in Love's ears as the tiredness of her travels hit her like a truck, better known as jet lag.

"I've got to say, I'm wondering what cockroach clusters taste like." She mumbles, slumping into her seat, leaning her head against the glass of the window as another yawn breaks out of her. "Hey, I'm going to rest my eyes for a couple of minutes, alright?"

She didn't even hear their response, her eyes were closed and sweet sleep was taking over, she didn't want to sleep the whole ride, just a couple of minutes....

"Love— Love, wake up— Love."

"What?" She groans, face scrunching in annoyance as the hushed voice of Padma called her.

"Wake up," Emma said, sounding strangely urgent.

It was dark, that was her first thought once Love opened her eyes, why is it so dark? And cold? Now that she was fully conscious, she took notice of the coldness in the compartment.

"What is going on?" She asked, worriedly looking at the window noticing the rain and thunder in the night sky but most importantly that the train wasn't moving. "Why did we stop?"

"We don't know." Shrugged Padma, her luggage in her hand. "Reckon we've broken down?"

"Don't think so, unless the charm works this train uses to move wore down, which I doubt," Emma mutters, a puff of white air leaving his lips as he speaks. "And if that were the reason, it wouldn't explain the cold."

Love could hardly see Emma or Padma, holding her wand up she mutters a quick "Lumos." and the point of her wand lit up, shining across the compartment, both her friends had a wary, concerned look on their faces.

"Has either of you come out to ask–" She stopped talking when she noticed the temperature had dropped suddenly and a cloaked figured out her compartment howereing, a boney, oddly long hand pressing on the frozen glass.

It made Love's stomach drop, what she's seen is obviously not human, it didn't feel human.

She watches in horror as the other hand of the cloaked creature slowly, yet determined moves the handle of the compartment. Love was holding her wand tightly, presses herself against her seat, trying to get as far away from the creature as possible, and just before it could open the door, a silver light shined from down the hallway, making the creature recoil hastily and flow away, taking the cold with it.

Love gasps, as if she could breathe again.

"Wh- what was-s that?" Shuddered Emma, his hands wrapped around himself.

"Do you think is gone?" Padma breaths out, distress painted all over her face. "Please Merlin, let it be gone."

"I think so..." Love mumbles, feeling hoppy inside the pocket of her jean jacket, croaking a tad different than how he usually does.

Suddenly, there was a loud whistle making the three Ravenclaws jump out of their skin, the lanterns turn on and the train's engine began to roar with life. In the next second the train began to take its usual route to Hogwarts as if the stop was just a small pickle on its way.

"Nox." Love twitches her wand and the light goes out. "Are you two all right?"

"I'm all right, just a mild heart attack, nothing to worry about," Emma said, holding his chest. "Rowena, that was awful."

Padma nodded, taking a deep breath. "Just bit shook, it'll go away soon enough, you?"

"Just a little shaken too, but I'm good." Love said, her skin getting warm, after a couple of minutes of gathering herself, Love stood up and grabbed her satchel. "I'm going to change, I'll see if I can find out what happens."

Padma stood up as well. "I'll go find Parvati."

"Be careful," Emma told them, his skin going back to its usual olive.

Walking down the hall, she watches the compartments of the students, most of them looking just as scared and shaken as Love felt moments before, rightfully so, those creatures bright noting but distressed and cold with them.

She caught a familiar brown-headed Gryffindor boy coming out of a compartment, looking unsettle as every other person on the train.

"Neville," she called, making him turn his head toward her.

He smiled softly and moved toward her. "Love, hi, are you all right?"

Love nodded, giving him a quick hug. "How about you?"

"I-I'm all right," Neville said, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

"What was that?" Love asks, holding her bag to her chest. "Do you know?"

"Dementors." He told her.

Love frowns, recalling what she had read about those nasty creatures who usually reside in the prison of Azkaban. "But what were they doing here?"

"To search for Peter Pettigrew, at least that's what that man told us."

"Those creatures are awfully dangerous, why would someone think that man is in here?" Love said quizzically to no one in particular as she knows Neville wouldn't be able to answer that, probably no one but Dumbledore could.

"I don't know but I hope I don't have to see them again." Said Neville, shuddering slightly. "Harry even passed out."

"Harry Potter?" Love eyebrows shoot up to her hairline in surprise when Neville nodded. "Is he–"

"Potter passed out?" A familiar voice drawls from behind her, making her sigh as the Slytherin came to stand next to her. "This is gold."

Neville's eyes widen when he saw Draco Malfoy, with a mischievous, devilish smirk on his face, the Gryffindor looked nervous as if he got caught taking a cookie out of a jar when he shouldn't.

"N-No, he–"

"No need to lie, Longbottom, we all know that bravery of his is nothing but a proper lie." Draco laughs, Crabbe and Goyle who were behind him snorted as well.

"Would you stop?" Love said, looking up at the Slytherin boy, who look paler than he usually would. "Passing out in front of a dementor is nothing to make fun of."

Draco scoffs, narrowing his eyes at her. "Well, I didn't pass out, you didn't pass out and surprisingly even Longbottom didn't pass out. The only one who did was Potter, like the wimp he is."

"Are you trying to tell me that you weren't frightened when the Dementors glided your way?" Asked Love in disbelief, when he didn't answer her and just stare down she scoffs a laugh shaking her head. "You're so full of it."

"I didn't collapse, it's a lot more than what Potter did."

"This is not a competition," Love rolled her eyes, "But I'll like to see you in front of a Dementor, see what you do then."

"Whatever." He scoffs, eyes sharp as he looked away from her. " I don't even know why I'm speaking with you, Emerson."

And with that, he pushed right passed her and Neville, Goyle even elbow her on the stomach as he did making her groan. "Bastard."

"Are you all right?" Asked Neville, worriedly.

Love sends him a quick smile before glaring at the back of Goyles head. "Yeah, don't worry."

"You don't think Malfoy'd tell anyone do you?" Neville asks nervously, glancing at where the three Slytherins walk off.

"I think you and I know the answer to that, Neville." Love said, sending him a small sympathetic smile. "I better be off, I need to change before we arrive at Hogwarts."

Neville nods smiling and swiftly moving away for her to pass. "Ah yes, of course."

"I'll see you around, Neville." She smiled at him before walking away.

After changing into her Ravenclaw robes, she went back to her compartment, Padma was already there, eating a pasty while Emma was munching on a chocolate frog while reading his book.

"Hey, how's Parvati?" She asks, taking her former seat near the window.

"She's well, all things considered, and still wearing my shirt." Padma rolled her eyes, taking a bite of her pasty.

"So, I know what happens." Love said, gaining her friend's attention. "Dementors, they came because they thought Peter Pettigrew is in here."

Emma frowns, placing his book down. "I supposed that makes sense, in a way–"

"How does bringing Dementor inside a train full of students make sense to you?" Padma sends him a look.

"Pettigrew could be anywhere, Padma, I'm not saying it's right to bring Dementors but it's safer."

"I supposed." Padma sighs and shrugs before looking at Love. "Who told you it was the Dementors."

"Neville, he said a man told him, he didn't say who but my guess is the new Defence professor." Love said, debating if she should tell them about Harry's situation, she decided against it despite the itching on her tongue that begged her to do it.

"Well, the position is the only one open so it'll make sense."

Love shrugged and grabbed a box of jelly slugs, purposely leaving the red ones untouched as she hates them.

"Maybe it's not a defence professor," Emmanuel mumbled, placing a hand out for Love to give him a slug. "I'm hoping Snape finally got sacked and this mystery man is replacing him."

"I think is okay to dream, Emma." Padma sighs, leaning back on the seat.

"Just wishful thinking..."

It didn't take long to arrive at Hogsmeade station, Padma, Love and Emmanuel there scramble to get outside and Love shuddered at how cold it was, placing her satchel on her head to avoid the rain to fell on her hair, yet failing miserably.

"This way," Padma called grabbing Love's and Emma's hands as they walked along the tiny platform through the mass of people, passing a few scared first years who were being beckoned by Hagrid, the gentle half-giant, keeper of the grounds of Hogwarts.

Finally, out onto a rough mud track, the trio got inside one of the stagecoaches who awaited the students, once inside and with the door closed the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.

"Ugh, these things must be ancient." Padma scrunches her nose in disdain as the awful smell hit their nose.

Most of the way they stayed in a comfortable silence until they were arriving at the school's gates.

Love sighs when she notices the hooded Dementors, standing guard on either of the iron gates of Hogwarts, she looks between Padma and Emma. "All right, don't say anything but I've got something to tell you."

The two nodded, looking interested in whatever Love had to tell them.

"Neville also said that Harry Potter passed out because of the Dementors."

Both looked surprised, Emma tilt his head. "Did it affect him that badly?"

"Apparently, but you can't say anything about it, though."

"Poor boy, y'know Parvati has a crush on him?" Padma said a small amused smile on her face. "Awful taste if you ask me."

"What's your taste then?" Asks Love, grinning at her.

Padma giggled. "George Weasley's looking fit this year, wouldn't you say."

The two girls giggle while Emma rolled his eyes looking out the window as the coaches slow down. "Keep romance talk for when I'm not around please."

"Boringgg."

🤍

"Cho!!" Love smiled at the older Ravenclaw who she had been friends since her first year, once they were seated on long their table under floating candles and the blue and bronze banner.

Cho smiled back, giving her a side hug. "Love, how was your holiday?"

"It was great." Love told her. "I travel and visited my grandparents."

"That's great, mine was less eventful but I did travel a little, to Belfast though but still travel."

Both laughed but stopped when Marietta Edgecombe, Cho's best friend cut through the conversation. "Did you two hear what happen on the train?"

"We were there Marie, I think we have a vivid image of it," Cho said.

Love shuddered, "Unfortunately we do."

"It was awful, wasn't it?" Cho said, turning to Love who nodded in agreement.

"I couldn't believe it when I heard they let Dementors in the trains."

"I know right, I was so–"

"That's not what I meant." Marietta's voice interferes with their conversation once again gaining their attention. "Terry Boot said he heard a few Slytherins say that Harry Potter collapsed."

Love eyes travel to the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was animatedly talking with his peers, no doubt about what Neville said, she isn't surprised. "Of course he did."

"You don't actually believe it, do you?" Cho said, rolling her eyes.

Marietta shrugged. "Why shouldn't I?"

Cho gave her a 'really' look. "Because the Slytherins hate Harry."

"Still, you can't deny he didn't."

"And what if he did?" Love huffs, leaning against the table. "I was on the verge of collapsing myself, weren't you?"

"Oh, I was about to piss myself." Cho giggles, making Love join her.

Then, the voice of Dumbledore echoes around the Great Hall making all conversation stop. "Let the sorting begin."

The first years entered the hall and the sorting Hat sang his song. One by one they got sorted, Love clapped every time one got sorted into Ravenclaw along with the rest of her house.

Padma and Love tried to guess the houses of each of the first years, clapping when they were right and booing to themselves when they weren't. And soon, Professor Flitwick, who was a tiny little wizard with a shock of white hair and head of her house, was carrying an ancient hat and a three-legged stool out of the hall.

"Oh, there he is," Marietta called, pointing to the back of the hall where Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were making their way to the Gryffindor table. "He looks a bit peaky, doesn't he?"

"I supposed he does." Cho shrugged, looking at the boy. "He looks different than he did last year, cuter."

Love follows him with her eyes as he takes a seat next to Ron Weasley, she supposed he is cute, but she can't say if he had changed much since last year as she ever hardly looks at him other than when she hears a rumour or they're in the same class.

Her eyes caught the green of his making her look away quickly, yet trying to look as casual as possible. That was em-ba-rra-ssing.

Thankfully at that moment, the old and great Professor Dumbledore stood up to speak, and he broke off, beaming around at the students.

"Welcome!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his long white beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..."

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

Emmanuel tuts, nodding his head. "Of course, they're with the ministry, we should have known."

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises -- or even Invisibility Cloaks, It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I, therefore, warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors," he said.

"Who's the head boy and girl this year?" Padma asked looking along the table trying to spot the badges and not caring about Dumbledore's harsh words.

"I think it was Penelope Clearwater and David Mendez." Said Kendall Martin, one of Love's and Padma's roommates.

"I heard Penelope is dating Percy Weasley," Cho whispers to Love making her eyebrows shoot up. "Predictable."

"On a happier note," Dumbledore continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Oh, I reckon that's the man Neville was speaking of." Love turns to Emma and Padma who clap along with the rest of the hall.

"Remus Lupin, that's Harry's uncle," Padma told her.

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

Love clapped happily for Hagrid as the rest of the hall, the Gryffindor's being the loudest, Love was happy for Hagrid, who was ruby red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard, he does deserve the position as Love was sure no one in the castle knows more about magical creatures than he does.

"Well, that explains the biting books," Padma mumbles as she claps.

"Literally."

Love frowns. "Biting books?"

Emma and Padma turn to her, both with a frown.

"We were assigned a bitting book for Care of Magical Creatures, I thought you chose that elective too," asked Padma confused.

"I did."

"Then how did you not know?"

Love blushes slightly, looking at her hands. "I order them via owl, but there was a book I couldn't get, I'm assuming it's that one."

"Then what are you going to do?" Emma asked.

"One of you'll have to share with me, please." She smiles at them brightly.

Padma wraps an arm over her shoulder. "Of course, I'll share my book with you miss rich girl, you shouldn't even have to ask."

Love laughs, leaning against Padma before looking at Emma who sighs rolling his eyes. "Fine but only sometimes."

With a chuckle, Love leans and smacks a quick kiss on his cheek making him scowl at her, while he wipes it off, but love could see a very small smile on his lips.

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"

The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink.

"Oh, thank Rowena, I'm famished," Padma said as she behind to serve herself food.

Love nodded in agreement, feeling her stomach grumble as she helped herself to everything she could reach and began to eat.

It was a delicious feast; the hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks, and at long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for them all to go to bed, and they got their chance.

"I can't walk," Love grumbled as she took yet another step. "Too much food ingested"

"I just want to go to sleep," Emma said, as they follow the Ravenclaw students up to their tower.

Padma didn't say anything she just grumbles and moans in despair with each step she takes.

Once at the door, they had to wait until the first years students solved the riddle from the bronze eagle.

What comes up but never comes down?

Thankfully the first years solved it quickly, and they didn't have to wait for long to get inside.

The Ravenclaw common room never ceased to amaze Love, the airy circular room, the silk blue and bronze that hung over the windows that overlook the school grounds, the carpets covered with stars, the statue of Rowena, the library on the side, hell she even liked the blue furniture but what she adored more than anything was the ceiling, the shining stars engulfs the ceiling.

Love and Padma said their goodbyes to Emma before going to their dormitory.

"Merlin, I'm done for today." Love mumbles as she changes out of her robes and into her pyjamas.

Rebeca Delvani, one of her roommates, nodded. "You can say that again."

"Reckon, I've never been this tired before in my life," Kendall said, also changing into her nightgown.

Love slumps into her bed, and Hoppy settle on the nightstand next to her bed, already asleep much like Padma who was the first out cold.

"Well, goodnight girls." Love mumbles as she took place under her covers.

"Goodnight Love."

And then, she was out.

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shadeswift99 · 2 years

Text

Inspired by Mumbo being the only one not to start a hardcore series in the between-seasons gap (and also me cheering myself up with Boatem banter <3)

(~1000 words)

"I'm hungry."

"No you're not." Grian says without looking up from the screen. "Time doesn't exist here, you can't be hungry. None of us have been since we left."

Mumbo considers this. He has considered this before, of course, but there aren't exactly many things around to consider down here, so some re-considering has to happen sometimes if he wants to keep sane. Is here even a "down"? He makes a note to consider that later.

"Well," he starts again. "Do you have any snacks left? I'm not hungry but I - I might be, if we could be hungry. Probably would be. Starving, even."

"I ate all mine already," Grian says.

"And half of mine," Impulse grumbles.

"It's not my fault yours were better. You're the one who chose to own a candy factory."

"This isn't helping," Mumbo complains. He'd love some candy right now. Rock candy, the extra crunchy kind. He never really liked it when the world was in one piece, but honestly? He'd be chuffed to have anything with some texture right now. Anything other than the same old dry mouth and the same old blue sparkly abyss to look into. It was interesting at first, if he could get around how spooky it was (which he usually couldn't) but, well…the infinite deep was boring now. Really boring.

"Pearl?" he says. Pearl doesn't even answer. Just gives him a noncommittal hum and keeps pressing buttons on her communicator.

Well, that's just grand.

Mumbo does a little one-two flailing movement he can only really call a 'wibble' and manages to get enough traction against the weird viscous ether to drift over to Grian. He stops himself on Grian's shoulder, sending both of them into a slight tailspin. He cranes his neck around his friend's bulky helmet to peer at the screen.

"No," Grian says.

"But I didn't even ask you anything!"

"You don't have to ask me it! You can't have a turn!"

"But Griaaaaan!" Mumbo whines. He's not exactly proud of how that came out, but he has been down-in-through-whatever here for a very long time, and he really is quite bored.

"I've told you already, if I die here I have to scrap the whole game and I'm not letting you play just so you can fly me into a wall or something." Grian frowns and mashes buttons. "I'm already having a hard enough time with these pillagers as it is."

"Scar's not playing right now, is he? Can I use his?"

"Ask him."

Mumbo pivots to look at Scar. He's sitting (hovering?) cross-legged with his eyes closed, seemingly focusing very hard on something. Jellie is floating in front of him in her own little space suit, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

Mumbo wibbles his way over to Scar. He bumps into Jellie on the way. Neither of them like it much.

"Why on earth would you put claw holes in Jellie's suit," he groans when he finally manages to get himself roughly upright again.

"She told me to," Scar says cheerily.

Mumbo says, "What."

Scar says, "Don't worry about it."

Mumbo decides to keep doing that. That's been his general policy about Scar for a while now.

"Can I have a go on your - oh come on," he says as Scar fishes his communicator out of his pocket and powers it up. "You didn't even want to play until I said I wanted to!"

"I didn't!" Scar grins. "But now I do!"

Mumbo turns. "Impuuuuuulse!"

"It's not his fault you dropped yours on the way here." Impulse serenely continues tapping at his own communicator. "And I'm kinda at a tricky part in my game right now, so if you could not distract me?"

That all sounds very sensible to Mumbo. Very sensible and exactly like a thing that one might say to a particularly annoying schoolchild, which really doesn't make him any less grumpy. Especially since he knows he really is being rather annoying.

He decides to go be annoying at Grian again, since Pearl's already holding her communicator above her head and sticking her tongue out at him and even though he's pretty bored he really doesn't think he's desperate enough to try wrestling with Pearl as an alternative to, say, not getting his ribs crushed. So he wibbles back over to Grian.

I'm really getting good at this whole wibbling thing, he thinks, shortly before flying completely out of control. Grian yelps as Mumbo's foot connects with the side of his head, then yelps even louder when he sees his screen.

"MUMBO! You've killed me!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Mumbo cringes. "To be fair that vindicator probably would have gotten you anyway…?"

"It might not have!"

Mumbo awkwardly pats him on the back.

"I'm sorry. But, um. Does. Does that mean I can play now?"

Grian takes a long, deep breath. "I'm going to kill you," he says very calmly.

"I'd rather you didn't?"

"What's going on over there?" Pearl finally breaks contact with her screen and leans over, sensing the potential for an interesting fight. Grian just holds the screen up to her and sputters.

Mumbo does feel bad for ruining Grian's game. Really, he does. It's just that he's also feeling rather yelled at right now, which strangely is a good deal better than being bored. Funny that, he thinks. He never thought he'd be happy to be yelled at by Grian.

"...and THEN he had to go and -"

"Give it here," Pearl says. Grian cuts off in a startled squeak as she grabs the communicator and turns it over. "There's a cheat code that'll bring you back, I used it for myself just yesterday. Er…yester…"

"Yeah, yeah, yester-timeless void, I know." Grian taps on his leg restlessly. "Just put the code in! Please…oh, Joel and Jimmy are going to laugh at me…"

"And me," Scar points out helpfully. "I'm already laughing at you."

"Aaaand done!" Pearl narrows her eyes and taps out the final rapid-fire sequence of keys. "It's only good for one time, but if Mumbo only kicks you in the head one time that should be enough."

"I can't promise that," Mumbo says.

"You can." Grian glowers at him, and oh look, maybe he can promise that after all!

"Are you just about done over there?" Impulse sighs. "I don't use cheat codes, so I'd kinda like it if Mumbo didn't end my game too by distracting me."

"Yeah, we should be done." Pearl hands the communicator back to Grian. "Mumbo, maybe you could try thinking about how it is that these things never run out of battery?"

"Or you could let me have a turn on yours?" He rearranges his face into an expression he hopes looks pleading, but probably just looks sort of cross-eyed.

"Have fun considering!" Pearl gives a sunny smile and goes back to her game.

Mumbo sighs.

He gazes out into the great blue abyss once more.

He adds "how hard would it be to pickpocket Scar's communicator?" to his list of things to consider.

#Mumbo Jumbo #grian #boatem #hermitcraft #shade writes #all of boatem is there i just don't like to tag people who only have one line y'know #might put this on Ao3 #might not #it's in that kind of awkward in between length but i will if people like it #needed some Boatem nonsense today #plus i just really like the idea of their hardcore series being like these little DS games they play in the ether #it's just a lot of fun #edit: DANGIT my italics didn't copy over >:(#had to do it manually

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

Photo

Always.

“Truth” is just... I mean, I want to say “garbage” but that doesn’t even do how bad it is justice? Like, okay, I take four major issues with it (my followers be like: just four? :P):

First is the writing in general and the continuity of it all. This episode looks like it’s been through multiple drafts and the final product is an amalgamation of a bunch of them with no coherency between any of them. I already could kind of guess it from the Adrimi kiss that the finale removed, but it’s obvious that there were going to be Adrimi/Lukanette arcs in Season 4 but then stuff happened (i.e: the staff being cowards) and they got cut. It’s totally possible that the plot with Jagged Stone being the father and Marinette having to keep secrets from Luka were still the same episode even in the original draft, but I imagine it at least wasn’t episode one.

There are other, more subtle hints as well, like the episode giving no time to Luka learning that Jagged is his father (making the fandom wonder if Luka remembered when he was Truth) and Ladybug being shocked when she realizes that the akuma is Luka as if she didn’t already see him be akumatized. Juleka also gets weirdly sidelined in the episode despite being Luka’s twin (Astruc has stated that both Luka and Juleka are older and Juleka got held back, which is why she’s in Marinette’s grade but Luka isn’t), so she’s Jagged’s offspring as well. One might presume that Juleka just never cared at all but that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be allowed to interact directly with the guy or have any involvement at all. All it would’ve taken is for Luka to mention that Juleka never cared about who their father was but he did, thereby implying that Juleka’s reaction to Jagged would probably be more like, “oh okay.”

You know, if they didn’t reduce her to incoherent mumbling.

Second is the timing of this episode. We had the New York special with Paris being destroyed, but it’s clearly fine here (so I guess it isn’t canon now; thank God honestly), and while it’s technically possible that enough time has passed (supported by the vague implication that Marinette having to miss out on dates with Luka has gone on for a while, given Tom and Sabine’s lack of reaction to them dating), it’s not supported by Marinette examining the Miracle Box as if she’s only just gotten it.

There’s also Shadow Moth, where we’re shown an extended version of the scene from the end of “Miracle Queen” where Gabriel repairs the peacock miraculous, giving the episode a “Volpina”->”The Collector” vibe but then why are the events lining up the way they do???

The narrative also does a really bad job at showing us why Marinette is so strapped for time. She has guardian duties now but you’d think it’d balance out with her not having to go to Fu anymore for guardian training (you know, that thing we never saw but was said to be happening or at least that it was Fu’s intent to have it happen). You could argue that maybe Shadow Moth is more active, but then Chat Noir should be affected by this too; Ladybug states outright that she’s been busy and Chat Noir responds with something akin to, “oh I know, because you’re guardian,” which implies that it’s her guardian duties keeping her busy and Shadow Moth is just interrupting her dates specifically.

But we don’t even see what responsibilities she has added on as guardian. I knew the writers would make it so her being guardian was a hassle, but it’s the first episode of the series and we’ve gotten next to no answers for what being guardian actually adds.

It’s almost like this was a rushed first episode to break up the only thing that unambiguously made Marinette happy for the sake of bringing the love square back and needlessly making her suffer because the writers think it’s hilarious.

Speaking of which, the third thing thing is the comedy because--just--I hate the comedy in this show.

Like, just to start, there’s the kwami, who clearly begin with their mob mentality from the later episode of “Furious Fu” and all proceed to act like children. No, I didn’t expect them to all be wise (I mean, Xuppu exists and is very much not that, having been implied to be a fit for Kim who is known for being a total himbo), but I don’t expect them to all scatter like they do. Kaalki in particular, who was shown to be more poised and refined, blatantly reveals herself to a bunch of civilians just for the sake of Marinette freaking out and needing to make up an excuse.

Same with Alya and her friends. Marinette is panicking because of the kwami and Alya “deduces” (while shading Marinette so blatantly that it’s insulting) that Adrien must be there in her house which--maybe don’t SAY THAT OUT LOUD in case Adrien is literally in her room???). Then Marinette gets a call from Luka, shouts his name, and the girls do a complete 180 in support of Lukentte. It’s not like I’m not for them supporting whatever Marinette wants to do, but the shift is so sudden (and contradicts “Frozer”) that it gave me whiplash and the entire scene ends up being pointless since the girls still go with the “Marinette is in love with Adrien” thing when Truth asks them what Marinette’s secret is. Like, we could’ve gotten small, stupid secrets that everyone thought only they knew about Marinette, but instead it’s just the same thing over and over again (which makes no sense since, by the time Alya blabs the secret - which Alya has already told Nino before anyway - it’s no longer a secret therefore making the answer invalid).

Heck, the whole “secret” thing could’ve even been the people Truth shoots finding ways of answering his questions in a way that is technically telling the truth but also not really, such as if Anarka had answered the, “Who’s my father?” question with, “someone you know/someone famous,” so as to avoid saying that it’s Jagged Stone. It’s just boring seeing characters answer with whatever the asker wants to hear instead of being able to find a way around it.

And then there’s Chat Noir, who’s just--ugh.

Like--okay, I’m going to be extremely petty for a moment and just go off because I hate Chat Noir’s role in this entire episode. The Season 3 finale went out of its way to have Chat Noir be all like, “I have a girlfriend,” when it was a lie, and then Season 4 just parkours around Ladybug telling him that she’s dating (Ladybug clearly took no issue with Chat Noir telling her he’s dating so it’s not like she’s worried about issues there; she’s gotten on his case before in episodes like “Startrain” so there are exceptions) because they want to keep having him flirt and not be sAd because this is Marinette’s episode of suffering and Chat Noir actually having to face the reality that Ladybug is dating (not just in love with someone else) would’ve actually been interesting. Chat Noir gets tons of unnecessary screentime in the episode - mostly for the show to shove in LadyNoir shipping fuel - and then actively avoids telling him the obvious thing because he would’ve actually been forced to grow/develop/stop flirting.

It would’ve been so cute and sweet to see him awkwardly trying to flirt without overstepping boundaries (so more like banter than flirt) or - you know - actually try to support Ladybug and want her to be able to finish her dates by him offering to keep akuma/sentimonsters busy, but no, he’s just left in the dark.

The finale had Chat Noir supporting her (terribly but I digress) and then doesn’t do anything with it at the start of Season 4, meaning his support of her was completely meaningless and just there.

His first appearance is him pranking Ladybug when she’s already overstressed and busy, which comes off as super poor taste and I’m both glad he got splatted into that window for it but also upset because it’s screentime completely gone to waste, and of course it’s just a lead up to him guilting her by being like, “nooo the only thing that hurts me is when you leave me alone during patrol!”

I know he’s teasing (...probably) but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth because we know (well, I knew because I know how this show works) that Luka and Marinette were going to break up because of Marinette’s hectic schedule, so it just comes off as insensitive to joke about it, especially when Ladybug’s busy guardian status just serves as a reminder that Fu is gone.

Even when he’s protecting Ladybug from Truth’s questions by cutting in and asking a question of his own, of course he asks about himself to forcibly fish compliments out of Ladybug because she can’t lie to him, and of course they have Ladybug compliment his humor most of all as if that trait hasn’t nearly gotten them in danger multiple times and she’s been repeatedly annoyed when he decides to joke during the worst possible times. It’s as if the writers wanted to pat themselves on the back for their own comedy, so they had Ladybug be a mouthpiece to stroke Chat Noir’s ego.

He claims he won’t force a truth out of her and then literally forces her to say what her favorite things about him are. I acknowledge that this can be seen as me nitpicking but we went from the finale where Chat Noir actually stepped up and took charge (because Ladybug was stressed but I guess him doing anything useful is just whenever it serves the plot) to this where he’s back to flirting constantly and jamming in as much LadyNoir shipping fuel as physically possible. It’s not that he’s useless but he’s annoying and takes up space in an episode that’s supposed to be about Luka and Marinette.

And that leads us into the fourth thing, which is the break-up and just the treatment of Luka and Marinette in general. I could go on and on about how the Season 3 finale built up their relationship just to tear it down in the first episode of Season 4, but that’s not the main issue here.

Luka brought Marinette comfort. He made her happy. He never judged her. He was happy to just date her regardless of any conflicted feelings she might have because hey, who is he to complain if she wants to give him a try and who knows what’ll happen?

And the season couldn’t even give one moment of them being unambiguously happy without ruining or interrupting it. I was ready for the break-up and I was even ready for it to be the first episode but I wasn’t ready for it to be so bad.

Marinette’s Adrien pictures appear out of nowhere (again, makes no sense for the timeline) when they’ve been gone for basically all of Season 3 and even “The Puppeteer 2″ specifically which makes a direct reference to “Troublemaker,” the episode that purposefully overdid it with her pictures (”Truth” has more hanging up and clearly used “Troublemaker” as a reference, by the way). They’re just there for force the love square and Adrien into the episode as much as possible to remind the audience that Adrien breathes. There is literally no purpose to any mention of Adrien and bringing him up isn’t even relevant to Marinette and Luka’s break-up.

It’s just upsetting to know that the umbrella scene from “Origins” (which is already flawed in and of itself) kickstarts this whole thing. Adrien did basically nothing there except for clear up a misunderstanding and give Marinette an umbrella when his ride was a few meters away and Marinette’s house was just across the street, but that actives Marinette’s absolutely crippling crush on him that lasts for 3-4 seasons. Marinette is in this eternal struggle of not being allowed to grow and change because the writers think her stammering/crushing on Adrien is funny while actively punishing her for having this crush in the first place (again, like in the scene with Alya, which insults Marinette for her crush when she wasn’t even panicking over her crush).

It’s the same with Luka, and I can’t believe that it took me until this episode to realize that he and Marinette are both treated the same way: tormented by episodes for having a crush on someone. Episodes will go out of their way to forcibly insert Adrien into the plot to both humiliate Marinette and make Luka feel awkward when the episode isn’t supposed to be about Adrien at all. “Truth” is just “Desperada 2.0″ except Adrien is barely on screen at all and they still felt the need to name drop him constantly. The writers are so sensitive to the idea of people jumping onto another ship or forgetting that Adrien exists that they’ll find any possible way to include him.

“Silencer” knew better. “Silencer” knew that Marinette’s life didn’t have to revolve around the mere mention of Adrien’s name and that she had other interests/desires/traits outside of him. Adrien isn’t brought up once and it was great because the show didn’t feel the need (for once) to throw Adrien into an episode that he had nothing to do with.

Even if I was a love square shipper, I would feel insulted by “Truth” because one half of my ship kept getting name dropped and used as a tool to humiliate the other half, which makes it all the more eyeroll-worthy when the love square stans of the fandom praise this episode for breaking Lukanette up when--oh, wait, they didn’t even break up “because Adrien.”

And that ends up being the real thing here. The writers had to invent a reason for Marinette and Luka to break up. We already know that Jagged Stone being Luka’s dad is a retcon (not technically in the show’s canon but in information we heard about outside of it), so they shoved in Luka having issues about not knowing his father specifically so that he would be pushed over the edge when Marinette couldn’t tell him about her being Ladybug.

When Luka and Marinette were just together and hanging out, Adrien wasn’t mentioned once. Say whatever about the Adrien pictures being on the wall and Marinette’s stammering (she always says stupid stuff when she panics - especially stuff she doesn’t mean - so I’m not upset with her so much as the writing for having her mess up in that specific way), but the only time Marinette talks about Adrien at all in the episode is when someone else brings him up.

She goes on a date with Luka to the cinema and they were having a great time without Adrien involved at all. I know I already stressed this point in a previous post, but one of the reasons that I find Lukanette to be so amazing is because the show actually focuses on Marinette’s interests and doesn’t force her to be the writer’s mouthpiece for gushing about their sunshine boy a punching bag for comedy. In every Lukanette scene that doesn’t bring up Adrien/before Adrien shows up, Marinette is either praised, able to be happy, or is showing one of her interests that isn’t aDrIeN, and whereas Adrien being on-screen around Marinette usually just means that she’s gushing about/stammering around him with no development, Lukanette features us actually learning more about Luka or other characters.

“Captain Hardrock” - lets her bond with Luka over a shared interest in Jagged Stone, and Luka is established as a sort of empath who uses music as a way to speak for himself

“Frozer” - gets to practice ice skating with Luka, who is actually good at ice skating and also can tie laces despite not tying his own because he’s a rebel

“Desperada” - gets to try out guitar with Luka and we learn that Luka has been playing guitar for as long as he can remember

“Silencer” - showcases Marinette’s interest in fashion and properly introduces Kitty Section; has a plot featuring all of them together doing something not even remotely love-related and we get actual confirmation of Luka’s crush on Marinette, along with Marinette’s reaction (blushy+happy; just saying, idk how anyone could watch “Silencer” and not think that Marinette was crushing on Luka)

“Heart Hunter” - Marinette gets a song written for/about her and Luka is established to have a job

“Truth” - brings up Lukanette’s shared interest in Jagged Stone, features Marinette’s interest in fashion when she gives him a gift she made + had Jagged Stone sign, and shows her raising her voice but not being judged by Luka for it, who’s happy with her just the way he is

When the show focuses on Lukanette, it’s all about lifting Marinette up, praising her, and making her feel good. When Adrien is involved or it’s hyper-fixating on Marinette’s crush on him, it’s about bringing her down and making her feel bad for a crush they keep forcing her to hold onto and humiliating her for.

Point being, the writers had to force their way into getting Lukanette broken up because of their precious love square and the fact that Marinette and Luka being happy is the opposite of what they want.

It’s embarrassing to watch a team full of old white guys (I’m convinced at this point that they just hang their female writer on a coat hanger so they can point to her whenever someone says that their staff is too male-dominated) treat their female biracial lead with such disrespect, and I can only presume that the mistreatment of Luka is because he’s supportive of her and they don’t like that, meaning that the way she’s treated ends up rubbing off on him.

It doesn’t come off as a fun or interesting plot; it comes off as cruel. When Adrien is sad, he usually gets people rushing to comfort him (”Party Crasher,” “Gamer”), but “Truth” has Marinette in tears over the fact that she can’t have a boyfriend due to being Ladybug and the writing has the gall to crack jokes about Kaalki not knowing what tears are, and then Marinette has to ask for the kwami to hug her for comfort.

When Luka gets akumatized into Truth, the episode doesn’t even hesitate at bashing away at him, from everyone saying that Marinette’s secret is that she “loves Adrien” (which, as Truth points out, isn’t a secret, and they could’ve had this somehow lead up to a twist ending where Marinette actually isn’t into Adrien anymore and the Adrien pictures were genuinely for reference, but she stammered about it because it was embarrassing that her boyfriend got sent it with no context) to one of Luka’s favorite songs actually being about how Jagged abandoned him to go on tour. Luka has to deal with Marinette ditching him constantly (not that I blame her) and not knowing who his father is despite wanting to know, and the episode treats him like trash for... what? Having a crush on a girl who’s secretly Ladybug? Because that’s all it seems to come down to in the end.

I also have serious gripes with the fact that Marinette has this huge schedule established in “Gamer 2.0″ and they don’t even try to explain why she can’t use it to keep track of her obligations. The episode has her say (in a roundabout way but still) that she’s forgetting stuff constantly because of all of her emergencies (the emergencies of which are not stated and I hate the subtle implication that forgetting something means you don’t care about it when that’s clearly not how things work and also not what Marinette comes off as because - again - they establish that she’s overworked) but fails to properly explain it. The episode hammers away at Marinette having all these issues and even has Tikki chide Marinette by asking her about leaving Luka alone while apparently neglecting the fact that Marinette HAS to go be Ladybug right now and what else is there to even do??

Both Luka and Marinette are punished for just having a crush and wanting to be together and I hate that the episode forces a break-up instead of coming up with a solution to the problem. Instead of “Marinette isn’t ready for a romantic relationship,” it feels more like she’s just not allowed to be happy.

Long-distance relationships are a thing. Relationships where people don’t get to go on dates frequently are a thing. Instead of forcing a break-up, the episode could’ve had a lesson/development where Marinette is told that she’s allowed to pursue a relationship and just needs to plan accordingly. but they just didn’t want to.

For example: instead of planning dates, Marinette could wait until an akuma/sentimonster is defeated to call Luka and ask him out, because Hawk Moth usually doesn’t strike immediately after one is dealt with. I’m positive that Luka would happily take impromptu/sudden dates over planned-but-inconsclusive ones. Heck, they don’t even have to date specifically and can just stick to phone calls (kwami can’t be picked up on technology) or hanging out in Marinette’s room/on Marinette’s balcony while they do their thing.

Relationships are a commitment, but that doesn’t mean they have to be a burden, and the episode absolutely drags Marinette over it. The whole thing with the kwami being released and stressing her out when they’re not supposed to be able to just come out normally is explained away by, “oh, the new box must be like you, Marinette; full of surprises!” when the reality is just that the show wants to take away everything that’s sacred to Marinette. The Season 3 finale had Fu’s letter telling Marinette that “life doesn’t always give you what you want, but the real gift is life itself,” then proceeds to turn Marinette’s life into a living hell.

Her room? She has to say good-bye to her privacy because now the kwami are always going to be around. The first thing one of them (Trixx) did was start reading her diary, showing that they have absolutely no shame or regard for Marinette’s feelings.

Her schedule? Conveniently pops away into the realm of non-existence so she can look bad for ditching Chat Noir on patrol and neglecting dates with Luka due to her responsibilities/stress.

Her boyfriend, the one person in the entire show who loved her, respected her agency, never judged her, actually apologized when he made her sad, and who she was genuinely in love with rather than just having the equivalent of a celebrity crush for? She had to break up with him because plot and needing to force her to go back to fawning over the guy who has only made her life worse by her crushing on him.

When I say the universe hates Marinette, this is what I mean. It created random akuma to attack Paris all for the sake of forcing Marinette away from Luka, and apparently didn’t realize what they were doing in the scene where Marinette hurries back to the Liberty when Kitty Section and Adrien are playing together when Adrien is Chat Noir so he should’ve been late too.

(Oh, and Marinette completely ignores Adrien in favor of waving at Luka and even tells Luka outright that Adrien isn’t even a factor in their relationship issues, further proving the “multiple drafts smashed together” and “the Adrien name drops are pointless” points.)

The whole thing in “Backwarder” where it was basically outright stated that Marianne could’ve been Fu’s confidant had Marianne not been outed by Ladybug’s mistake? Completely forgotten and left to the wayside. Marinette could’ve told Luka that she was watching the Miracle Box in Ladybug’s place (for any number of reasons, really: either Ladybug thinks it’s too dangerous to keep with her, or if the public doesn’t know that Ladybug is guardian, then Marinette can just say that she’s guardian) and that she has to run off to keep guard of the Miracle Box when an akuma/sentimonster happens in case Ladybug needs a miraculous.

Boom, done, episode solved. Luka gets to help Marinette with the kwami, Marinette is less stressed because someone knows half of her secret, and Luka and Marinette continue to date but are able to plan around akuma attacks.

But no. That whole thing in “Backwarder” where guardians (or at least Fu) can have a confidant was just there so Marinette could feel guilty about screwing it all up, because she’s not able to take advantage of that perk herself.

How convenient.

#category: salt #category: critique #episode: Truth #other: ml spoilers #other: ask and answer #((This is mostly incoherent because I am very tired.))#((''In general or at the episode--'' Yes.))

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damonsvftie · 4 years

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𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜✨

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

MEGA MASTERLIST

Summary: it’s that time of the year where everyone has been pulled under the mistletoe but what happens when your the only one who hasn’t?

Note: h2gkmo I love this Sm also it’s 3.8K WORDS

Warnings: none I believe apart from kissing

September, October and November, has already flew by so quickly as if it were a blur and I can’t seem to comprehend that its currently December.

Not that I dislike this certain month but it’s just the whole ‘mistletoe’ thing that I’m not quite fond of. Last week, some boy from Slytherin managed to get a girl he liked from Hufflepuff under the mistletoe, and let’s just say, the tension was absolutely incredulous.

Being a Hufflepuff, she kindly made up an excuse and hurried out of the the great hall. If that were me, I would probably shove my plate full of food down their pants. I mean the audacity though?

It’s that time of year again where Hogwarts is practically covered in a blanket of snow and every single student walks down the corridor with a soft knitted sweater hugging their bodies tightly to stop them from catching a cold. Well mostly everyone, since Malfoy wears very extra stuff during this season.

The last day, I saw Harry snogging Cho Chang under the plant. Okay maybe it wasn’t snogging, but they still kissed! And Hermione had told me all about some oaf from RavenClaw who tried to do the same to her but it didn’t really work out since she smacked him across the face with a heavy book.

—

“I’m so glad no ones tried that on me yet,” I mumbled le as I tucked into a plate full of food.”it’s absolutely ridiculous! I mean the audacity they have to think I’d want to kiss them. I have to puke,” complained Hermione, her facing saying it all. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ron Weasley gulping hard as he tugged at his collar. “You know.. sometimes both of you are very scary,” making me roll my eyes at him.

“It’s not even that bad, it’s just a kiss,”. The way Harry blatantly blurted that out as if it’s the tiniest thing in the world while he drummed his fingers on the table. “You can’t chat! I saw you snogging Cho Chang a day ago,” I argued. Harry’s cheeks were beginning to flush a shade of crimson as he swiftly diverted the attention onto me again.

“And? At least it was Cho and not someone like Pansy Parkinson, besides even Lavenders after Ron,” he mumbled looking annoyed. “Bloody hell I almost forgot! She can’t seem to stay away from me. She’s like a leech,” he complained, his lips curving into a frown.

Hermione shut her book and put it down. “Y/n, hasn’t anyone tried to get you under the mistletoe yet?” Her lips curving into a small smile, preventing me from shoving a forkful of food down my throat, my hand in mid air. “Uh- no,” my cheeks slightly blushed in embarrassment . For some reason my response made Ron giggle to himself.

Irritated, I smacked him behind his head causing him to yelp. “Ow! What was that for?” His brows furrowing as he rubbed the spot I had hit him in. “You dare laugh at me Ronald Weasley and I won’t hesitate to curse you!”

“Both of you please! I’m trying to finish this book off,” Hermione’s facial expressions exasperate as her eyes bore deep into our souls, intimidating us until we both shut up. Huffing under my breathe I continued to pick at my food until someone spoke once again.

“Hey! Give me my book back!”. To my surprise, Draco Malfoy stood towering over Hermione, his book in her hands as he held it high. Her attempts to try and grab it back were failing as she jumped high on the spot. “Malfoy give her book back,” spoke Harry through gritted teeth. “How about no? Besides Potter, this is between me and her so stay out of it,” he sneered.

“Come on Malfoy, stop being such a git,” defended Ron. Whatever the boys had said didn’t really matter to him because of course it went through one ear and out the other. “Oi! Give. Her. Book. Back,” my nostrils flaring as I folded my arms against my chest.

Unexpectedly, he started making owl noises just like the day he was attacked by Buckbeak, slowly striding towards me as his eyes darted up and down at my figure, supposedly ‘checking me out’. “why... what are you going to do y/l/n?” His face inches away from mine. I felt his cool,minty breathe fanning against my face causing my eyes to flutter rapidly in intimidation. Everyone in the great hall had fixed their attention onto the commotion we were causing, making owl noises every time one of us firedback. “Gone silent now have you?” The tone in his voice mocking as he took a step back and swiftly turned on his heels.

I don’t know what I was thinking, but I pulled him back towards me, one of my hands cupping his face as my lips pressed against his instantly. My other hand, smoothly grabbed the book out of his palms, shoving him back once I got what I wanted. “You were saying?” My voice sarcastic as he stared at me, mouth hung slightly open In awe.

Tossing the book back to Hermione, we all sat back down, the golden trio gasping under their breaths. “Did you just KISS Malfoy?” Rons voice exaggerated as his eyes shot wide open. “Yes- Yes I did,”

—

As we walked the hogwarts grounds, Harry and Ron didn’t stop annoying me about Draco. “So let me get this right, you kissed Malfoy to get mione’s book back? Blimey you have some guts don’t you?” A giggle trailed behind his irrelevant question.

I was down right agitated. I paused in the middle of no where, my lips pursing into a line. “I don’t know why both of you think it’s so funny and or hard to believe I kissed him? It’s not like I like him or something!” My voice slightly laced with anger as I strided off into the other direction, ditching the trio.

I could heard Hermione calling after me but it was too late. I was gone. If I were being realistic, I didn’t know where I was headed to as I entered hogwarts, twisting and turning through the dingy,dark corridors until I bumped into something rock hard, resulting in me too lose my balance and collapse.

“Look where your going,” I groaned as I sat up on the cold floor. “You bumped into me, not the other way round,”. It couldn’t be. I recognised that same bitter and unpleasant voice. My eyes trailed up to the figure that looked upon me from down below as I whimpered underneath him in pain.

It was Malfoy.

He stuck his hand out in offer for me too take it but of course I didn’t. Pushing his hand out of the way, I scrambled to my feet my teeth gritting. “Why are you ALWAYS in my way?!” I yelled, although I was lucky enough that the corridors were deserted.

“Me in your way? YOUR the one who keeps getting in MY way! Don’t get too ahead of your self y/l/n!” He firedback immediately, his face scrunched up.

My hands found their way to his collar, fisting at the material, pulling him close until our noses were almost touching. “Listen here Malfoy, stay. Out. Of. My. Way,” I protested my breathing heavy.

His serious face turned looser as a small smirk spread across his face. His hands travelled up my visage, his thumb lightly grazing my lip, tugging it down, the flesh of my lips revealing.

What was he doing?

My breathing hitched, while my heart did a flip in my chest. My grip on his collar slackened as my hands fell by my side before I walked right past him.

—

I should have known better. The more I added fuel to his fire, the more frustrating he was going to become. It was slowly starting to become a very common thing for the two of us to have an argument with each other, while everyone just rolled their eyes at us, since it was starting to get out of hand and become a regular thing.

Something inside me told me that he thoroughly enjoyed bickering with me even when I had at least tried to be civil with him.

“I just wanted say.. maybe we should be civil,” my words sincere as a half grin crept up across his face. “You want US to be civil? Why.. you think I’m going to stop?” He taunted as his smile dropped, his face serious than ever. “Yes- you know why? Because I’m mature unlike you. If I’m honest I don’t understand what pleasure you find in fighting me all the time,” my eyes turning a darker shade as I clenched my fists by my side.

His facial features turned soft almost as if it were putty as I finished my sentence with a sigh. His body instantly loosened up as he took a few steps away from me. “Your right. I’ll leave you alone-“ he muttered before disappearing in the dark.

Was I seeing things or did Draco actually agree with me for once? Was he actually going to put an end to his daily dose of torture?

—

“Did he actually offer to stop and leave you alone?” The confused looks on their faces. “Yep... but it’s quite unbelievable,” the look on my face twisting the more I thought about it. “Wait Wait Wait! Let me get this right... Malfoy’s going to leave you alone for the rest of your life? Bloody hell thats fabulous!” Ron’s lips transitioning into a wide grin as he took a sip out of his cup.

“Why are you so happy? He said he’d leave ME alone not YOU,” I answered back , trying to put Ron off, making his face droop. Within seconds I decided to change the topic so I didn’t have to fight Weasley.

“Anyways- So- hows your defence against the dark arts thing going?” I questioned Harry as he swallowed his food. “Well- we haven’t come up with a proper name for it but we think it should be named ‘Dumbledores army’ and I guess it’s going alright,” he sighed right after causing me to raise a brow. “Somethings off- what’s wrong Harry?” My voice gentle as I glanced at the other two.

“Harry’s worried someone’s going to bail out on us to Umbridge,” the fearful expression on hermiones face explaining it all. Did I mention that Dolores Umbridge was claimed to be the headmistress of the school? We were all lucky enough that she hadn’t created any sort of ridiculous rule in which we were no longer able to talk to our friends.

Everyone apart from a bunch of slytherins, who were named the ‘inquisitorial squad’, including that evil little cockroach Malfoy, loathed her. The trio had managed to gain access to the room of requirements in which they all hosted sessions where they practised spells such as how to unleash a patronus charm.

“Y/n why don’t you join? The more the merrier besides we need to prepare incase anything happens,” the tone in hermiones voice soft. “Guys.. I don’t know.. what if you know.. Umbridge finds out?” I asked wearily, fingers drumming the table.

Disappointment smeared across their faces. I couldn’t disappointment my friends like that. “You know what? Fine, I’m in!” I blurted as their mundane facial expressions changed into goofy smiles and wrinkled eyes.

—

“Expecto Patronum!” The tip of my wand unleashed a faint sort of white vapour which slowly transitioned into a p/n. “Blood hell y/n! You got that right on the first try,” remarked Ron as he stared up at my patronus in awe.

Suddenly, the chandelier started to swing and the floor beneath us was shaking under our feet. Everyone huddled together as it stopped. Then another loud bang came from the door as it crumbled, leaving a tiny cracked hole in which we heard Umbridges voice.

With one last swish and flick of her wand, she blasted down the door completely, walking in infuriated with the inquisitorial squad following behind her. Draco Malfoy stood on the side, his hand gripping Cho Chang’s arm tightly as she hung her head in shame. She had betrayed us.

My eyes met Malfoy’s as I lowered my wand. Each member of the squad practically forced us all the way into umbridges office however Malfoy shoved Cho to the side and came headed in my direction. “Do as I say,” he muttered under his breathe, his hand gripping my wrist causing me too flinch.

“What- What are you doing?” I whispered frantically. “Don’t question me y/l/n,” he replied, his lips barley moving as Umbridge yelled at us all.

One by one, each army member was escorted by a slytherin however Malfoy waited for everyone to leave. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he mumbled, peering out the door making sure the coast was clear. His hand slowly slid down my wrist, intertwining his fingers with mine.

I didn’t dare speak of it, besides I felt safe with him for some reason as if I were able to trust him. Quickly, we ran down the corridors hand in hand making sure no one spot us. “Wait stop,” I panted as i breathed heavily, leaning against the wall. He stopped for a moment, his hand on his hip as he patiently waited for me too regain enough energy to walk back to my dorm. “Let me walk you back to your dorm,” he insisted.

—

“Goodnight,” he mumbled before turning to walk away. “Draco Wait-,” I called for him reluctantly as i leaned against the door of my dorm room. He turned to face me once again, one of his brows raised in confusion. “Why did you help me? I mean you could have just turned me in like the others,” I questioned hesitantly. He seemed to have straightened his posture as he looked down at the floor before glancing at my visage. “Don’t question it y/l/n,”

—

“What? That’s not possible.. how did Malfoy not turn you in?” Harry exclaimed, his face distorted as he gave the type of look when something was brutally unfair. “I bet he likes you, I remember when he came back and made up an excuse about his whereabouts,” chimed Hermione plainly as she stuck her nose into her book, causing me too flush red.

Running towards us was Fred and George Weasley as they explained what Umbridge was currently doing. “You lot might want to check this out,” their voices weary as they glanced one another. Within seconds we all made our way outside the great hall where the rock solid walls were covered with every stupid law she’d had every created. A new one of her ridiculous educational Decrees was being hung by Filch as he tried balancing on the highest step of the ladder.

My eyes trailed from above all the way down, now examining Draco’s face as he looked up, a smirk painted across his face, after all he was part of Umbridge’s clan. I don’t know why but he looked immensely alluring and it really bothered me. Why did he look so perfect? I didn’t like him did I? No of course I didn’t What type of dumb question was that?

—

Tonight me and the army decided to sneak out after curfew and meet up in the Gryffindor common room. I slipped on my robe as I softly shut the door behind me, trying to make sure it didn’t creak. I tiptoed down the corridors because we were all aware that the inquisitorial squad members were lurking around, keeping an eye on us. I couldn’t risk using a lumos spell because I knew that if I did someone might see the light at the tip of my wand easily so I attempted to guide myself in the dark, sticking my hand out incase I bumped into anything.

Unexpectedly, I tripped over my own feet causing me to fall frontwards, straight into somebody’s arms, my hands flung around their neck, clinging onto them for dear life. We stayed like that for a good few seconds, my breathing hitching as my chin laid propped up on the mystery persons shoulder.

Pulling away from me the person chanted a ‘lumos’ spell, holding their wand between our faces. “Draco?” I shrieked, my face distorted since I knew I had been caught. “What are you doing after curfew?” He interrogated. “Nothing I Uh- I was trying to sneak out to get some fresh air,” I lied, the tone in my voice making me sound sheepish. “Don’t lie to me y/l/n you were going to another one of those meetings, weren’t you?” He snarled, his grip on his wand becoming tighter. “Uh.. okay fine! I am, but please don’t tell on me I beg you,” I pleaded my lips curving into a frown.

His facial expressions changed and became softer than ever, his irresistible,grey eyes glimmering from the tiny source of light as he parted his plump lips to say something. “Go,” he whispered lowly. “Thanks Draco,” I muttered. For some reason my feet were glued too the floor as if they weren’t willing to move. I had the sudden urge to kiss him but I held back until he himself leaned a little closer, his lip ghosting mine before I took steps backwards and disappeared into the darkness.

Was I developing some sort of feelings for him? All he did was save me from landing into trouble twice and actually leave me alone for once. Did he feel the same way?

I had to at least thank him for how humble he was being over the past month so that same week I went to Hogsmeade and bought him a ring with a snake wrapped around it. After all his help, this was the least I could do to repay him.

It was Christmas Eve today and I told one of the sweet slytherins (who I knew was trustworthy) to go and put this perfectly tiny box wrapped up in black paper under the tree in the Slytherin common room.

—

Today was Christmas Day and I ran down the stairs to my common room early in the morning to open up my gifts. Harry hurled me a handful of presents as I struggled to carry them all. “Merry Christmas y/n!” They sung in unison as I started to unwrap them all. Ron had given me a perfectly knitted sweater with the first letter of my name on it. Hermione had bought me a stack of muggle books that had very interesting covers and Harry had bought me a box of assorted sweets from honey dukes because he knew I had a sweet tooth.

“Thanks guys I really appreciate it,” I gave them a warm smile. “Y/n I uh- there’s another gift addressed to you,” Ron fiddled with the present in his hand, taking a close look at it. “It’s not addressed from anyone though,”. He tossed me the dark green wrapped gift as I glanced at them unsure. My hands began unraveling the box taking a peek on the inside. To my surprise, there was a immaculately beautiful necklace with a dark green gem in a pendant. Holding the necklace between my fingers I gave a glance at it before putting it around my neck, trying not to overthink it.

—

“I wonder who gave you that?” Questioned Ginny as she squinted her eyes. Walking into the great hall was a certain blonde haired boy with his annoying group of posse following behind him like a bunch of lost puppies. He looked incredibly charming as he wore a dark green sweater with a black scarf wrapped around his neck as he tugged at it too loosen it a bit. I could just about see the ring that he wore around his finger.

Something about the way he accepted my gift made me smile to myself. “Bloody hell y/n are you blushing?” Joked Ron as I pursed my lips. “Totally not,” i responded as I bit the inside flesh of my cheek too stop myself from grinning.

From across the hall my eyes met his and I felt a unknown spark run through my body. A toothy smile crawled across his face causing me too smile back at him. Oh god I thought to myself, I couldn’t do this. I hid my face in my hands embarrassed as my friends laughed at me. “Y/n are you sure you don’t like Malfoy?” Teased Fred Weasley. “Yep it’s confirmed she does,” added George. “No I don’t,” I mumbled as my voice was muffled by my hands.

“If you’ll excuse me I have somewhere to go,” I muttered before leaving the table in embarrassment. I could see Blaise Zabini and Goyle patting Draco on the back in what seemed like encouragement as he got up. Was he going to follow me?

I strided down the corridors when I saw him calling after me. I swung my head around as I continued walking and he disappeared. Walking backwards, I tried looking for him when something bumped into me from the front. “Where do you think your going?”. I recognised that same tune that use to annoy the hell out of me.

“Draco? Where did you come from? You were right behind me,” I asked curious, trying to change the subject. “Took a shorter route,” he explained. The gap between the two of us was at the point of closing.

“You uh- wore the necklace I gave you,” his cheeks flushing slightly as his rough demeanour vanished. “You were the one who gave this? Why?” My voice cracking at the end. “And you gave me this ring- why?”. He was trying to use my own words against me as I giggled to myself. “It’s more of a thank you gift than you know-,” I elaborated as I crossed my arms.

“So why did you gift me this necklace?” The curiosity in my voice making him pause for a good second. “Let me guess.. don’t question it? That’s what your going to say right?” I giggled to myself. His face slowly dropped his lips parting as he looked above the two of us. “The mistletoe,” he choked. Above our heads, was a magically growing mistletoe that rained glitter.

He scratched the back of his head as i hung my head. “You don’t have too if you don’t want-,” I quickly cut him off by placing my lips against his, savouring the sweet flavour. Initially he was shocked, his eyes wide open until his lips moved in sync with mine, his eyes fluttering closed as he cupped my visage, my body flushed against his.

Pulling away, his eyes fluttered back open, his thumb drawing circles on my cheek as he pulled me back in one last time,his plump lips on mine before pulling back making me admire his enticing face. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered as my hands wrapped around his neck pulling him in for the tightest hug ever.

—

Taglist: @summer-writes @gryffindors-prefect @harry-pottery-barn @adderallanimal @voldygonemoldy @reemusluupin @chaotic-fae-queen if you want to be added or removed lemme know

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

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Stalker X Stalker, Part 12

First

Perma taglist: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo @khneltea @raeuberprinzessin

Tim had exactly zero idea what was going on.

Marinette had disappeared into the shower so he’d figured that, hey, work was over and he was 90% sure it was the day she usually shaved (something he knew because every time she shaved she excitedly asked him to touch her leg because it was smooth) so he had time to kill…

He walked over to her jewelry box.

He’d already bugged all of the new jewelry he had bought her but her old stuff was perfectly intact and he kind of wanted more insurance. Sure, they lived together now so it was unlikely she would have much reason to leave without him, but he was known for his millions of plans and contingencies and he wasn’t about to mess up when it was someone he cared about.

So, he went to work on the first necklace he grabbed. It had a tiny cat with green emeralds for eyes.

He looked at the tiny black pupils that the cat had. He pulled a tiny pick out of his pocket and carefully started carving a circle in it for the bug.

And then a bug-shaped god came flying out of the door for something.

There were a few beats as Tim and Tikki stared at each other.

Tikki broke it with a loud groan.

He watched her float past him for the towel hung on Marinette’s bedpost and then go back inside.

Shit.

He darted towards the bathroom, only to pause at the door. He really didn’t want to burst in while Marinette was probably naked, that was a huge breach of privacy, but he also didn’t want Tikki to tell him about all the bugs he was planting! Shit! He bit his lip, considering.

“Here’s your towel, Marinette,” Tikki said with a sharp edge to her tone.

“... are you mad?”

“Not at you. Where are the cookies you baked last night?”

“Uh, the fridge --?”

“Thank you.”

Why hadn’t she told her? Tim wasn’t complaining, of course, but he was a little confused. She was clearly mad about it and he doubted that Marinette had made some rule that said ‘you can’t tell me about people bugging me’ because that was oddly specific and not a very good idea… so… what?

He didn’t know. He was just going to thank the god of luck -- he was pretty sure that was Tikki -- and continue what he was doing.

Marinette didn’t have to struggle to keep everyone inside the first night. She liked that. More time to plan.

But how did she get herself let out, you may ask?

Remember how Tim had said that all-hands-on-deck situations are the only exceptions to the Stay Inside While Injured Rule? Well, guess what had happened.

Arkham had had a huge breakout and Marinette wasn’t going to complain… even if her kwami might be a little disappointed in how happy she was about it.

She was even happier when she’d found out that one of the people that had broken out was Scarecrow. She’d been meaning to tell him about her guesses about his brownie recipe for a while and she hadn’t really had a chance to do it when she was talking to him through a phone with a thick glass between them.

Batman -- Bruce? -- didn’t need to know that they’d broken into a bakery for the night to test out their theories before she had taken him back to Arkham.

He’d thank them when he got the brownies (the missing ingredient was Mexican cinnamon!). Or, at least, she hoped he would.

Tim had to say… Marinette's plan to get everyone in her house was working.

He could warn his siblings but, honestly, he found it kind of funny.

He was surprised to see Jason show up first. He raised his eyebrows at his brother. “Didn’t know you were in town, Flamebird.”

Jason did an exaggerated eye roll that Tim swore he could see despite the domino. “Marinette said she had something she wanted to show me.”

And she did. She walked over and dropped the Harry Potter books onto the window ledge beside him. “This is terrible and I hate you for making me read them.”

“It gets better later on --.”

“I read two books. That’s six hundred pages. If you can’t get your shit together in six hundred fucking pages then you don’t deserve my time.”

He scoffed. “They’re not that bad.”

“Oh yeah? Read it. It’s been years for you, right? Get to book three and tell me it’s good.”

Jason scowled and grabbed the books, taking a seat in the armchair.

Tim grinned and rested an arm around his girlfriend. “You don’t actually hate Harry Potter, do you?”

“Only the book version.”

He frowned. “I think we need to break up.”

“Nope. Not allowed to break up with me.”

“Oh, well, if I’m not allowed then I guess I won’t,” he said, leaning down to press a tiny kiss to her lips.

There was a groan from the window and they both rolled their eyes, turning to look at Damian.

“Why must you sully my good mood so early on with your disgusting displays of affection?”

“It’s our apartment, you just so happen to be here,” said Tim, glaring at his brother. “We can do what we want.”

Marinette, bravely, stepped between the two of them with a bright smile. “Now, boys, it’s not the time.”

“It is not the time for your libido, and yet...” argued Damian.

“Please, that isn’t even close to libi --,” Tim started, only to get elbowed in the stomach.

She gave him a look that told him to let her handle it and, while he didn’t think that was a good idea, he held up his hands in surrender.

“Robin, it’s unbecoming of you to argue with everyone you meet,” she chided lightly.

… did she speak Damian or something? Because Damian actually looked a little reprimanded at that and Tim needed to learn her ways.

Then, she leaned down with a grin. He could see her hands start to rest on her knees but she thought better of it at the last second. “I got some new stuff from the pet store and I wanted to know if you wanted to help test them out on Vanelope.”

Damian narrowed his eyes slightly. “What kinds of new things?”

“A bunch of cat toys.”

“... I suppose I can test them out for you.”

“I mean, I said you could help --,” she started, but Damian was already heading towards Vanelope without her.

Tim looked over at his girlfriend. She didn’t seem all that put out by this.

“You really had something planned out for everyone?”

She smirked and took a seat on the windowsill. “Yep. It should take Flamebird about two days to finish the first two books -- assuming he can even get through them that quickly -- and Robin is sure to be very thorough in his testing of all the cat toys.”

“Oh? And what’s your plan for everyone else?”

She shrugged just slightly. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

When Dick appeared she set him up with Beat Saber, saying that she was curious about why the VR glasses gave her a headache and wanted to see if he had the same problem. Tim knew the problem was that they were made for men and therefore sometimes had negative side effects for women, but he bit his lip before he could offer to get a set custom-made for her in favor of watching Dick select the poppiest pop song in existence and instantly get addicted to the game.

Tim raised his eyebrows slightly when Steph appeared, textbook in hand.

“How did you know everyone would show up?” He asked once Marinette had set her up with a particularly long and difficult worksheet to make sure she got the lesson.

“Well, Spoiler shows up every Saturday night for tutoring, Robin comes by every other day or more and he didn’t stop by last night, Nightwing pops by most weekends, and I called Flamebird over myself… speaking of which…” She pulled out her phone and tapped a few buttons. “Right, Signal said he’ll be here in ten minutes seven minutes ago… so, he’s almost here.”

Tim grinned. “You forgot Cass.”

“She only ever really shows up to get away from all of you guys so, with everyone here, she’d have no reason to come over.” Her face split into a sheepish grin. “Also, she’d see through me pretty quickly.”

“Don’t you want B to have no help?”

She shrugged. “It should be a light night since almost everyone important is in Arkham right now but that doesn’t mean that the two of them can deal with all of Gotham’s petty crime on their own. I give them until three or four before they crack.”

“... you might be a little scary.”

“You don’t last long as a vigilante if you’re not at least a little smart,” she chirped. “I just choose to turn my brain off most of the time.”

He smiled. “Oh? And the exception is what? Making you stay inside?”

She waved him off. “Kind of. It’s more that I only put effort into making sure I’ll never be bored. What’s the point of thinking about anything else? All that does is make you sad.”

Well that didn’t sound healthy, now did it? Tim was pretty sure that was just repression but, honestly, he had no clue. His family famously did not use therapists.

Before he could figure out how to address that there was a knock on the door.

Marinette grinned and opened it to reveal Duke, who was holding a computer.

Duke looked around the apartment, raising his eyebrows at all the people there. “Uh… should I ask?”

“I’m spiting Bruce.”

“Wild. Whatever. Ready for GBBS?”

“Sure. Tim, you gonna watch it with us?”

He hesitated. Steph had been sending him pleading looks since she had gotten her worksheet and he felt kind of bad for her… but then Duke and Marinette sat on the couch and she rested her head on his shoulder lazily to get a better view of the computer and Tim figured that Steph was smart enough to do the worksheet on her own if she really tried.

He took a seat beside her and smiled a little when she switched to lean against him instead.

“So, who’s your favorite person for the season?” He asked.

She thought for a minute before shrugging. “The guy that always wins but keeps being anxious about his bakes. Forgot his name, though.”

“Rahul?!” said Duke.

“Sure.”

Duke frowned. “I’m not sure whether to be happy you like at least one contestant, be proud it’s Rahul, or be annoyed you didn’t remember his name.”

“Character development takes time,” said Tim wisely.

Marinette scoffed a little. “Just put on the damn show. I’m tired of listening to you assholes talk.”

Duke grinned. “Fine. Fine.”

Time passed as the three of them watched the show.

Other family members slowly made their way over one by one. Damian brought the cat with him. Jason came over to give his brain a break after all the reading he had done (and then, when Marinette pointed out that you never take breaks while reading good books, had gone straight back to Harry Potter). Steph decided she didn’t want to pass her class and came to lay across the top of the couch. Dick eventually got tired and rested his body after the intense game that is Beat Saber.

… B released her at almost exactly three thirty. They ignored their comms in favor of continuing to watch the season finale.

Marinette bit her lip anxiously as she preemptively turned off the notifications on her phone. Tim did the same.

They typed up matching tweets about how they were moving in with their partners, tagged each other...

Their fingers hovered over the tweet buttons.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’m sure one of my siblings will do something stupid in a few days and the media will leave us alone,” said Tim.

She smiled awkwardly. “That isn’t what I’m worried about.”

He frowned just a little and slipped his arm around her. “Well, can I help with whatever it is?”

She hesitated. It would be better to warn him, she supposed. “Not really. You’re going to get the ‘shovel talk’ --.”

“My dad is Batman, Bean, I’ll live.”

“-- by the person who currently controls the embodiment of chaos and destruction.”

His face paled a little (which is dangerous, considering he was already pale enough). “Does Chat Noir not know we’re dating yet?”

“Nope.”

“... so he’s going to find out through the media?”

“Yep.”

“Shit.”

She nodded her agreement, curling into his side and glaring at the phone.

Adrien was going to be pissed. Especially since he was going to learn through the media. Sure, that was the intention, she was hoping that Tim would be left more or less alone because her friend would be too busy being hurt about not being told to focus on his anger at her boyfriend… but, yikes, she didn’t really want to deal with that just yet.

Also, she thought with a wince, Adrien was going to be even angrier when he figured out that she hadn’t exactly given up, as he called it, ‘stalking’ the people she was interested in. Marinette was pretty sure that Tim already knew about some of it but she wasn’t completely sure and, just in case, she wanted to keep it a secret for a while… a few years, at least, and she wanted to be the one to tell him because she was sure that Adrien would be a lot harsher about it than she would. He already called it ‘stalking’ when it was clearly different, she didn’t want to know what he would say if she let him talk about it in more depth.

Unfortunately, though, Adrien wasn’t stupid. He’d eventually catch on. The longer they dated without him knowing the guiltier he would assume she was.

She sighed and took his face in her hands. “I’m leaving it up to you. I’m not sure. I’m leaning towards being public but...”

He bit his lip as he considered it. She fought the urge to stretch his face until he let go.

He smiled hesitantly. “Well, I’ve lived long enough, I think.”

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll summon a lucky charm for you,” she half-joked.

He gave a puff of laughter that wasn’t quite real and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thanks, Bean, but I doubt that’ll be necessary. This is Gotham, no one dies here.”

“We don’t know how long that’ll take, though,” she said with a pout. “I’d prefer to have you back as soon as possible.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’ll always have my siblings.”

“But I want you,” she huffed. “You’re my favorite.”

She felt his cheeks warm beneath her hands.

“I’m your second favorite,” he reminded her. “Cass.”

She snickered. “True. You’re my favorite until Cass accepts my proposal.”

“Hm. I’ll have to enforce the bro code to make sure that never happens.”

“Oh no! I guess I’ll be stuck with you forever, then. What a shame!”

He smiled brightly. Sometimes she lamented the fact that he didn’t give a lot of genuine smiles. The grins and smirks were nice, of course, but she liked to watch the way he would duck his head slightly to try and cover his face with his bangs. Still, in the privacy of her own head, she had to admit that the fact she could get such a smile out of him when few others could made her heart rate spike. He smiled for her. Who wouldn’t be flattered by that?

She pulled the smile that she loved so much down for a kiss.

The first time they stepped out the door as an official couple they were hounded by reporters.

Tim wanted to ask how they knew where they lived. He settled for asking them to blur the area around them.

It was more than a little annoying to be harassed on your way to the grocery store. They had just wanted eggs, milk (Marinette kept leaving it out for some strange reason), some cat food, and enough miscellaneous snacks to keep Cass occupied. They did not want cameras shoved in their faces.

But years of being public figures had trained them to keep pleasant smiles on their faces and to answer questions with as little information as possible.

Finally, though, they made it inside and a manager kicked out the reporters.

Marinette let her shoulders slump a little beneath his arm and Tim flexed the muscles in his face before it could get stuck in that awkward half-smile forever.

He squeezed her a little. “You alright?”

She shrugged as much as she could without displacing his arm. “Yeah. Just… hate reporters.”

He nodded his understanding. He pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Want to buy some Oreos while we’re here?”

Her face lit up. “Can we?”

“I’m rich. Of course we can.”

And, so, they did. He made a mental note to start buying oreos in bulk. All the flavors, just in case she ever got sick of the normal version.

They glanced out the door and, though they couldn’t see the paparazzi waiting just outside, they were sure that they would be back soon. They ducked through back alleys to try and get away.

Only to stop in the middle of a dark alley at the high-pitched cry of: “Give me your money or else!”

Tim sighed and set down the cat food to hand over everything in his pockets. A glance back at Marinette confirmed she was doing the same --.

And then he stopped short. He turned more fully to look at their mugger and then started to laugh.

“I’ll… I’ll kill you!” Said the mugger, who was just a kid. They might not have even hit puberty yet.

“With a pocketknife?” Tim said.

Marinette turned around as well at that and a grin spread across her face. “Oh my gods, that’s so lame.”

“It’s Gotham, you gotta do better than that,” said Tim. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a butterfly knife. He handed it over. “Here, have this, at least. Christ, that’s terrible.”

The kid didn’t seem to know what to do about the fact that his would-be victims were laughing at her and apparently helping her mug people.

Marinette handed over everything except for the necklace Tim had given her. “Here, kid. And get a mask or something to hide your face, it’s not nearly dark enough in here for you to just go with a hood.”

“Oh, and here’s my address,” added Tim. He typed it into his phone -- damn, he should have brought more than a pager -- and then handed it over. “We always have a lot of extra food, so if you ever need it just knock on the window.”

“... thanks?” said their now adoptive kid (they didn’t make the rules, this kid was theirs now).

“Yeah, yeah, no problem. Can we go now? One of his siblings is coming over soon and he will start our show without us.”

“Uh… sure?”

Marinette sat on the kitchen island, squinting at the cast on her arm. Was it worth taking off for the sake of doing work? Maybe --.

Tim’s voice crackled through her ear and she perked up a little at the sound, smiling. He was talking, greeting guests it seemed. Right. He had a meeting today, Janet had mentioned it earlier that morning.

Marinette sighed a little at the reminder that, while she might not care about her broken arm, her boyfriend did. Yeah. Tim would probably be stressed if she took off her cast before the doctor said it was okay. She settled to lay back on the counter, head resting on her good arm, and stare at the ceiling as she listened to his voice...

Only to dart up when she felt a tap on her arm.

She looked over, eyes blown wide, and only relaxed slightly when she realized she recognized the person.

Adrien stood over her, arms crossed over his chest despite the glasses/miraculous he had hooked to the collar of his shirt, but he apparently wasn’t angry enough to not accept the usual kisses on both cheeks that Parisians did as greeting.

He said something that she couldn’t really understand with the part of her brain still concentrated on Tim explaining some sort of chart.

She sighed and reached a hand to her ear to turn off the bug. “Hey, can you repeat that?”

He didn’t. Instead he squinted at her ear suspiciously. “Does your ear hurt?”

“... no?” She said slowly, a little confused.

“Whatcha listening to?”

She paled. Shit. He was going to be pissed (or, at least, more pissed than he already was) if he found out that her supposed ‘stalking’ was getting worse. She needed an excuse.

“Uh, that one rapper, uh --.”

“BS. You don’t listen to rappers.”

He held a hand out and, reluctantly, she handed it over to him. She might as well get her murder over with.

He set it in his ear and, after a few attempts, turned it on. His face soured even more, somehow.

“This better not be who I think it is.”

She gave a tentative half-smile.

That was all the answer he needed. He grabbed her by the back of her shirt and started dragging her through the streets.

No one helped. Not that she expected them to, it was Gotham, but it was still a little hurtful.

Adrien stopped suddenly after a few minutes of walking.

“... wait… where’s his office?”

51 notes · View notes

kurokoros · 4 years

Text

if you leave, when i go (find me in the shallows) | todoroki shouto

Rated: M

Words: 24.5K (she’s long)

Pairing: merman!shouto todoroki x fem!reader

Summary: Growing up this close to the ocean, you’ve heard all the stories. The local legends meant to scare small children away from the water after dark or amuse the tourists that flock to the beaches during the summer season. Ningyo. Mermaids. They’re just myths, and yet you swear you saw something--someone--in the water that night. Even now, you can’t shake the feeling of warm hands on your skin, red and white blurring your vision.

AN: Written for the @bnhabookclub “just add water” event. I used dialogue prompts 2 and 10 from their list. This was supposed to be a short, 7K one-shot and that... did not happen lmao. I’m a little surprised that I finished this on time, but I’m so happy that I did. I do have two alternate endings to this that I plan to write, so stay tuned for those! Now, I need to sleep for the next ~24 hours. Enjoy!

Also, sorry, but per the laws of anime logic, your side ponytail mother is probably dead, and your deadbeat father left you, so you’re living with your cousin in this. AKA: I’m the only Manual stan in the fandom and needed to put him in this fic.

Special thanks to @sadistiks and @shinsotired for beta reading the first half of this fic! They really helped me figure out the pacing. And special thanks to @freckledoriya for motivating me to write this in the first place!

Warnings: smut (one scene towards the end, feel free to skip it!), lowkey breeding kink (???), language, character death, descriptions of drowning, violence, mentions of blood

XXX

Waves lap at your bare toes as you walk along the edge of the water, searching for sea glass in the sand—a futile effort; it’s growing dark, storm clouds rolling overhead. It isn’t raining, yet, but the air is damp with forewarning, and the ocean breeze sweeping in from the water chills your skin. The empty bucket you’ve been carrying brushes against your knee with every step.

In front of you, Bakugou groans low in the back of his throat, almost growling as he stomps through the sand. “This is stupid,” he grumbles, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his orange and black board shorts. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the expression he’s wearing: brows furrowed in a scowl and lip pulled back in a sneer.

Rolling your eyes, you kick water at him. “Then why did you come?” you ask, ignoring his complaints. He’s never liked the beach. And he makes that known every time the rest of you drag him out here, but you know he’s all talk. If he really didn’t want to be here, he wouldn’t have let you and Ochako and Kirishima pull him out of bed to come here.

“It’s not stupid if we’re having fun,” Ochako chirps from beside you, an extra bounce in her step. Her fingers are laced together behind her back, and she’s handed her bucket off to Kirishima at some point, the boy dutifully combing the beach with a careful eye for anything shiny.

Bakugou glances at Ochako, and his gaze softens around the edges. His voice doesn’t have nearly as much bite when he says, “Speak for yourself, shorty.” It’s hard not to give in to the bubbly girl. Between her and Kirishima, Bakugou is almost pleasant to be around. Almost.

Midoriya isn’t the least bit put out by Bakugou’s complaining, his smile sunny as he looks around the empty beach. There’s no one out here but the six of you, and it’s almost disconcerting without the usual flock of tourists and locals alike. “Come on, Kacchan,” he says, glancing at the other boy, “we’re almost done! After this, we can stop at the store on the way back to Kirishima’s house.”

Iida speaks up for the first time, trailing behind the rest of you vigilantly, watching for even a hint of trouble. “Midoriya is right,” he tells all of you, fixing his glasses and sending you all a stern look. “We shouldn’t stay out here much longer, with the storm coming in.” He hadn’t wanted to come out at all today, with the weather, but when the rest of you decided to go regardless, he caved, claiming that someone with common sense needed to watch out for you.

He’s also the only one wearing a raincoat and rubber boots on the beach, prepared for a storm that won’t hit for at least another hour.

“Man, you worry too much,” Kirishima tells him, giving up on his search for anything in the sand. He flashes Iida a wide grin as he fixes his headband. “It’s just a little rain!”

The rest of you groan as Iida’s eyes narrow, preparing for a lecture. And, sure enough, Iida tenses, straightening almost painfully. “It’s not just a little rain, Kirishima,” he chastises, arms already beginning to move around wildly. “An ocean storm can be incredibly dangerous, even if this one isn’t expected to cause a tsunami!” He continues, reciting facts about storms and tsunamis that you’re almost positive he memorized from some textbook, but you tune him out easily.

Ochako does the same as you, already bored, and Kirishima and Bakugou take turns egging Iida on with sarcastic remarks. Midoriya is the only one that actually seems interested in Iida’s storm facts, but that isn’t surprising. He’d probably be taking notes if he had a pen on hand.

With a sigh, you glance out over the water. The ocean is all deep blues and shades of grey from the oncoming storm. You probably should have just stayed home. It’s better to search for sea glass after a storm anyway; the waves wash everything ashore. But you like the quiet. The calm before the storm.

You drag your toes through the sand, flicking more water at Bakugou’s legs. Something smooth brushes your skin, and you probably would have ignored it if you hadn’t been staring at the ground. A bright flash of color against the grains of sand makes you still, and you crouch, reaching underwater. What you pull from the ocean is a pretty piece of sea glass. The edges are rubbed smooth from years tumbling through the water, and the glass is almost a teardrop in shape, long and not quite flat, just big enough to fit comfortably in your palm.

It’s the most breathtaking shade of blue you’ve ever seen.

Ochako is beside you in an instant, peering over your shoulder at what you’ve found and accidentally splashing you with saltwater. “Did you find something?” she asks excitedly, eyes widening when she sees what you have. “Ooh, turquoise! That’s amazing! I’ve never seen that color before, ugh, I’m so jealous!” She hooks her arm around your waist as you stand up, squeezing you in a tight hug.

Kirishima leans over as well, interested in anything marine in nature. He grins. “Hey! Nice job!” he says, slapping you on the back a little too hard.

The good natured hit sends you careening forward with a yelp, the uneven sand leaving you off balance. Ochako yanks you back, but not before you knock your arm against Bakugou’s. That only further irritates the huffy blond, but he doesn’t snap at you like usual, just grabs your arm to keep you from accidentally falling down.

Quirking a brow, he glances at the piece of sea glass you have cradled in your palm. He’s not impressed. “I can’t believe you dumbasses dragged me out here for this,” Bakugou gripes, but even that doesn’t sound convincing. Ochako and Kirishima’s excitement is infectious, and despite his complaining, you know Bakugou never really means it.

Midoriya and Iida have stopped as well, and the latter pulls his raincoat closer. “Yes, very nice job, Mizushima,” he tells you, trying to shoo the rest of you away from the water. “Now we need to leave before the storm hits.”

A chorus of “yes, Iida” and “whatever” are your responses, but the taller boy doesn’t take the grumbling to heart. You’ll all get over it by the time you make it back to Kirishima’s house. Besides, you’d rather avoid the rain if you can.

Iida places his hands on his hips and watches Ochako, Kirishima, and Midoriya turn around, heading back up the beach to where Bakugou’s car is sitting in the parking lot. When you and Bakugou don’t follow, Iida turns to the two of you, arching one eyebrow as if daring you to argue—a look you know isn’t being directed at you.

Bakugou huffs and turns away, glaring across the beach, and you roll your eyes. He was the one that wanted to leave just a minute ago.

As the others stop a few feet away, waiting for you, you run your thumb along the smooth edge of the sea glass you found, keeping it tucked gingerly between your fingers as you shift your weight to your other leg and bump your hip up against Bakugou’s. “Come on, asshole. Let’s go before you give Iida a conniption.”

“Whatever,” he grumbles back, still glaring off into the distance. Bakugou tenses suddenly, and you glance at him curiously, brows furrowing when you see his wide eyes. You follow his gaze further down the beach, but can’t find anything that might have caught his attention. There’s nothing down there but craggly rocks leading further out into the water, the kind people dare their friends to walk across in weather like this.

Dread crawls into your chest, and, sure enough, Bakugou calls out, “Hold on,” before taking off down the beach, heading right for the rocks.

Kirishima reacts first, clearly exasperated as he shouts, “Bakugou! Bro, come back!” and jogs over to where you’re standing. Salt water splashes your bare legs, soaking the right left side of your shorts as Kirishima accidentally kicks water at you.

And Midoriya isn’t far behind, coming to stand on Kirishima’s other side. “Kacchan, wait!” he calls after the other boy, caught somewhere between worried and annoyed.

“Bakugou, come back here this instant!” Iida shouts, already stomping across the sand after the other boy. He looks less than threatening in his oversized raincoat and boots covered in multicolored polka-dots (a gift from Ochako), and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing as his boot sticks in the sand and nearly trips him. “This is not following storm protocol!”

Dropping your empty bucket onto the ground just out of the waters reach, you glare at Bakugou’s retreating form, lips pursed. “I’ll get him,” you tell the others, not waiting for a response before you jog after him, racing right past Iida. Out of the five of you, you’re probably the one with the greatest chance of getting Bakugou to come back quietly. Kirishima could do it, but he could also be easily swayed into doing the stupid thing, too, and you really don’t want to see Iida blow a gasket tonight.

The wet sand sucks at your feet with each step, making it hard to run, and Bakugou disappears over the rocks before you can catch him, but that doesn’t stop you.

“Bakugou,” you shout, climbing up onto the rocks after him. The stone is rough beneath your bare feet, but any sharp edges have been weathered away by the ocean currents. Spiky, blond hair catches your eye as you scramble to the top of the rocks. He’s down lower, closer to the open water, where the waves are bigger, stronger, a little wild from the brimming storm. “Bakugou, slow down, what are you doing?” You follow a careful distance behind him, unwilling to risk slipping into the water.

“Shut up!” he calls back, loud over the sloshing waves. “I thought I saw something.”

You roll your eyes and slide down the other side of the rock, struggling to keep up with him. “Saw something?” you repeat, half-mocking him. “Like what?” There’s nothing out here but water and whatever fish were unlucky enough to get caught in the currents and forced this close to shore. When he doesn’t reply, you huff, pausing in your climb to brush dirt from your legs. “Come on, Iida’s right, we need to get off the beach before--” You cut off with a choked sound as you’re left facing the empty ocean where he was just standing.

Breath catching, your heart plummets, causing your stomach to churn as you take another step forward. “Bakugou?” you call out, hesitant, and the stirring wind sweeps your voice out to sea. Nothing. Your throat grows tighter, and your chest grows cold, icy fingers slotting against your ribs and squeezing until you can’t breathe. “Bakugou!”

You scramble down the side of the rock, but stop before you reach the edge, legs frozen. If Bakugou slipped and the current took him, it could just as easily rip you down as well. Shit. You need to get Iida. Or call Masaki. Or an ambulance. If Bakugou hit his head--

Hands grab you from behind, latching onto your waist and yanking you back against a firm chest, and you scream, throwing up your hands in shock.

A familiar snicker reaches your ears, and you drive your elbow back into Bakugou’s chest, satisfaction rushing through you when he grunts in discomfort and lets you go. “Asshole!” you snap, whirling around to glare at him. The rocks are slippery beneath you, but you don’t even care, too pissed at his shitty prank to think about anything else.

Bakugou smirks. “You should have seen your face,” he tells you, struggling to hold in his laughter.

For a second, you consider pushing him into the water and leaving him there, but decide the murder charges wouldn’t be worth it. Besides, you’re too relieved that he isn’t drowning in the ocean to really be mad right now. You’re definitely drawing dicks on his face with markers tonight though. “Don’t do that,” you whine. “Ugh, you’re such an ass sometimes. What was the point of that?”

He shrugs, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Wanted to piss off four-eyes,” he says, making you roll your eyes again. Of course, that would be it. Barely sparing you a glance, he turns around and starts climbing back up to the otherside of the rock. “Come on, squirt, let’s go home.”

Huffing, you glare at his back, hands curling into fists at your sides. Your eyes widen. “Shit,” you hiss, twisting on your heel to look down at the rocks, searching for a spot of color against the grey stones.

Bakugou pauses at the top of the rock, glancing over his shoulder at you. “What?”

“The sea glass!” you tell him, taking a step closer to the water. “I dropped it.” Dammit, you should have left it back with the others, or in the bucket. At the very least, you should have put it in your pocket instead of holding onto it this whole time. You should know better than that.

A groan comes from behind you. “Just leave it,” Bakugou tells you, clearly exasperated with your concern over a stupid piece of glass. “You’ll find more later!”

The nasty look you throw him over your shoulder shuts him up. “I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t obnoxious,” you remind him, seeing him wince. Yeah, you’ll definitely be holding this over him for a while, you think, watching as he lowers himself onto the rock and sits down, waiting for you. “Plus, it was turquoise glass, Bakugou! That’s not easy to find!” And there, a flash of blue-green on the ground, just inches from being swept away by the waves lapping at the side of the rock. “I see it!” you call over to him, gingerly walking towards the edge.

“Fuck. Fine! Grab your stupid glass and let’s go!”

Not responding, you crouch, reaching for the glass. It’s smooth against your fingers, wet from the water, and you cradle it in your palm again, holding it tightly. A shallow breath leaves you, relief curling outwards from your chest as you rise back to your feet and turn back to Bakugou.

But then something goes wrong. The rocks are too wet from the waves, and you’re too close to the edge, still jittery from Bakugou scaring you. It’s like your legs are ripped out from beneath you, and all you see are Bakugou’s eyes, wide and terrified, before you’re plunged beneath the water.

The rip current grabs you before you can kick your legs or move your arms, and salt water chokes you, rushing down your throat and nose. There’s no time to brace yourself for the impact and hold your breath like Masaki always taught you to. Waves thrash you from all sides, dragging you down. A shadow moves above the water, Bakugou reaching for you, but you’re ripped away before he can plunge his arms in after you.

It’s too dark to see anything more than shadows beneath the water, and the salt stings your eyes, but you can’t close them. Your lungs burn, threatening to burst as a shrill sound rings through your skull. More saltwater tries to escape down your throat; your vision blurs, spots dancing across your vision, like stars or snowflakes. A strange feeling overtakes you. Weightlessness. And you let it wrap around you like a vice, a fist wrapped around your neck and squeezing. Your fingers unfurl from the fist you’ve made.

Sea glass slips through your grasp, turquoise swallowed up by the ocean before the waves return to devouring you.

Something moves in the water in front of you, a shadow. You follow it with your eyes, a repeating pattern of red and white crossing your vision before disappearing just as quickly. A fish. But it’s too big. Too long. Too warm as it brushes against your bare legs. Fingertips press against your cheek, warm and gone in an instant. There’s someone in the water with you, Bakugou, maybe, or Iida, you can’t tell.

Before the water can drag you down further, hands grasp at your arm, your waist, your hip, finding purchase where you can’t slip away. Your hair floats around you in dark tendrils from the water, and through the hazy warmth settling around you, you find a pair of eyes staring back at you. Mismatched silver and turquoise would steal your breath if your lungs weren’t already screaming.

You inhale; the darkness swallows you whole.

XXX

You drown. At least, you should.

Pressure builds in your lungs, and you choke on it, wheezing and coughing. You lurch, rolling sideways as seawater burns your throat, and vomit on the sand, water and bile mixed together. Everything tastes like salt, and the raindrops sting your eyes when you try to open them. Pain laces through the back of your skull, and there are hands on your back and face and arms, grasping like they’re afraid you’ll be swept away again. Warm fingers brush against your cheek, brushing away the hair sticking to your lips. Someone is speaking to you, but the sound is far away and muffled like you’re underwater.

The hands on your cheeks force your head up, and through red-rimmed eyes you catch sight of your cousin Masaki leaning over you, talking to you before he turns and shouts at someone else. There’s a desperate look in his eyes, but it calms when he looks at you. His chestnut colored hair and blue sweatshirt are soaked through from the rain, and it must be freezing, but he smiles down at you.

“Hey, kiddo,” you faintly hear through the rain and your fogged head. He strokes your hair, pulling you closer to his chest as you start to shake and sob. “You’re going to be okay,” he tells you, lips pressed against your temple. “You’re okay.”

Everything blurs together after that. You think you see Ochako standing somewhere behind Masaki, trembling with tears in her eyes as she stands between Midoriya and Kirishima. Midoriya’s hands are shaking, his arms hanging limp at his sides with shock, but Kirishima has his arms wrapped around Ochako, and his mouth is moving like he’s saying something, but you can’t make out the words. Iida is behind them. His raincoat is gone. So are his glasses.

Red light flickers across the sand. Blinking on and off.

Your gaze slides sideways and lands on Bakugou, kneeling on Masaki’s other side. He’s shaking like you, hair plastered to his forehead and clothes drenched like he tried to jump in after you. Bloodshot, carmine eyes meet yours, and a shuddering breath tumbles from his mouth. His lips move, repeating the same thing over and over and over.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Warm hands scoop you off the ground, ripping you away from Masaki, and he lets them take you, following on shaking legs. A smooth object slips from between your numb fingers and falls silently onto the sand. Masaki doesn’t notice, right on the heels of the paramedics taking you away. Bakugou does.

The sea glass is bright against the damp ground, a pretty dash of color against the storm.

Heart lurching, he scoops it up, wet sand spilling from between his fingers as he races down the beach to where his car is sitting idle.

XXX

When you wake up again, you’re in an unfamiliar room, beige walls and an open window letting in the sunshine. The panic that wells in your chest is instant, the phantom feeling of saltwater rushing down your throat makes you choke, sputtering, and Masaki’s head snaps up from where he’s been bent over in his chair for hours now. The phone he was holding clatters to the floor, a text unsent.

He’s slow when he reaches for you, like he’s afraid to touch you, and a wet sound tears from your chest as his hand lands on your upper arm, rubbing gently as you heave, lungs trying to dispel water that isn’t there. The hospital bed dips beneath his weight as he sits beside you, and blindly you reach for his hand, squeezing his fingers between yours once you latch on. His other arm moves from your shoulder, curling around your back, and he pulls you against his chest just like he did last night.

“Hey, you’re okay,” he tells you, low and soft as his thumb draws circles against your back. “Deep breaths.” The soothing motion of his hand slows your racing heart , tempo slowing to match with his as your breathing evens out. He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t have to.

And then your eyes begin to wander.

The hospital room is as bare as you expected, but warm, and with Masaki here, it might as well be home. His blue sweatshirt is tossed over the back of the chair he was sitting in. He must not have left last night. Hurriedly, you look away from the old sweatshirt, a heavy feeling settling over you. A bright flash of color catches your eyes, and you latch onto it. Pink and yellow flowers sit idle in a glass vase. You don’t recognize the type, but the sight makes a small smile tug at the edge of your lips. If you had to guess, it was Ochako who sent them. Or maybe Midoriya.

There’s a plastic bucket sitting on the table next to your bed, beside the flowers. It’s the same one you were using last night. The one you’ve had since you were a kid. Sitting up like this, it’s easy to see inside. The bucket is filled nearly to the brim--sea glass, shells, smooth rocks, things that must have washed ashore after the storm.

Masaki follows your gaze. “Midoriya’s mom dropped off the flowers on her way to work. And Bakugou and Kirishima brought the bucket a little while ago. Thought you’d like to pick through what they found.” Your heart squeezes in your chest. They must have been out there for hours, picking the beach clean before the sun was finished rising.

You want to ask where they are now, but bite your lip, still staring at the bucket. Masaki seems to understand your silence, and he squeezes you a little bit tighter. “They went to pick up the others,” he tells you, rubbing your back. “They all wanted to be here when you woke up. We were all pretty worried.”

Something inside you snaps at the information. Your hands clench in the back of his shirt, a raw and ragged sound ripping from somewhere deep in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you whimper, voice muffled against his shoulder. Ice churns in your stomach, bubbling uncomfortably inside of you. You could have died last night. Maybe you did. Water that isn’t there sloshes inside your lungs, and your mouth opens with a wet crackling sound. “I shouldn’t have--”

The stern, but surprisingly soft tone that Masaki uses makes you choke up. “Hey,” he coos, leaning back just enough to look at you, dark eyes gentle and familiar. “Don’t apologize to me, okay? Accidents happen. The storm came in faster than you could have known.”

Silently, you search his eyes, looking for a reprimand, or anger, but there’s nothing there but overwhelming relief, and when Masaki wraps his arm back around you, you fall against him willingly, boneless and gasping for breath. He doesn’t say a word, just lets you cry and shake until the tremors disappear and leave you exhausted and numb. At some point, you close your eyes, sinking into his warm embrace, nose buried against his collar. He smells like saltwater, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

The two of you stay like that for a long time, only breaking apart when a doctor comes in to check on you. It could have been worse, is what she tells you. They drained more water from your lungs overnight, and two of your ribs are cracked from the CPR, but there are no other external injuries. A miracle, the doctor tells you, checking your vitals. With the storm, you’re lucky you didn’t hit your head on the rocks. You’ll make a full recovery.

You were lucky to wash ashore where you did. Where Masaki found you as soon as he came tearing down the beach after Iida called him, telling your cousin that you fell into the water and Bakugou couldn’t find you. You were lucky that the rip current didn’t pull you out further into the water like it should have.

You’re lucky to be alive.

After she leaves, you and Masaki sit in silence for a while. He moves back to his chair beside your bed, picks up his phone. You don’t know who he’s texting, but their response pulls a crooked smile out of your cousin, and you match it with one of your own. There’s a slight pain in your chest, and your breaths come in short, wheezing gasps, but that’s normal. It’ll go away.

It isn’t long before your friends arrive, the five of them squeezing into the room together, though you know there’s a visitor limit of two at a time, and Masaki is already here. You’re sure Kirishima and Ochako came up with some excuse to get them all in here, and your smile widens at the thought. Even Iida, always a stickler for the rules, walks stiffly into the room behind everyone else, practically standing guard at the door.

They take turns hugging you, asking how you feel, voices gentle, careful, like you might just crack under their touch. But you don’t. You grip Kirishima back just as tightly as he squeezes you, and the pain in your ribs is worth it. They look worse than you, and you tell them as much. Iida frowns at you from behind a pair of old glasses that are held together with tape, and Kirishima runs his hand through his loose hair, bandana the only thing keeping the red strands out of his eyes.

Bakugou shifts his weight from one leg to the other. His jaw is clenched tightly, his hands curled into fists, and his eyes are still rimmed in red, like he didn’t sleep last night. “Here,” he grumbles, holding out his hand. You hesitate to reach for it, brows knitting together, but your confusion melts away as Bakugou drops a small object into your open palm.

Turquoise sea glass glints beneath the overhead lights, frosted surface smooth against your skin. Your eyes widen, lips parting in a silent question, but Bakugou only shoves his hands into his packets and looks away. You brush your thumb against the curved edge, staring down at the piece of glass in wonder. How you still have it is beyond you. It should have been lost in the water. Your hand stills as it reaches the pointed tip of the teardrop, a silver chain winding around your finger.

“Bakugou and I asked Kaibara to drill a hole in it,” Kirishima speaks up from beside him, a sheepish look crossing his features as he rubs the back of his head. “We, uh, we figured maybe you could wear it, y’know? Like a necklace?”

“Thanks, guys.” You try for a smile, but it comes out watery, a little forced. None of them comment on it.

Midoriya is quiet when he asks, “How much do you remember?” The question plunges the room into silence, and Bakugou glares at the other boy, bristling, but Ochako is wedged between them, so he settles for clenching his fists and sneering.

“All of it,” you whisper, playing with the sea glass necklace that Bakugou and Kirishima gave to you. You don’t tell them about the turquoise and silver eyes you saw in the water.

XXX

It’s a week before Masaki lets you out of the house alone. You have a check-up at the hospital four days after your near-drowning to make sure your lungs are clear and there’s no infection setting in, and your clean bill of health and pleading gaze reassure him enough to leave you home alone for the day while he goes into work--a paramedic for the local fire department.

You’re half-asleep on the couch when he leaves. The fractures in your ribs keep you awake, but the pain medication makes you groggy and irritable, so either way, you don’t win. The sun isn’t up yet, and Masaki leans over the back of the couch to tousle your hair and murmur a quiet goodbye, letting you know that Bakugou and Midoriya will be stopping by later in the afternoon to keep you company. He won’t be home until tomorrow morning, a twenty-four hour shift.

The response you give is muffled, slurred, and your eyes slip shut as your cousin’s fluffy cat hops onto the couch beside you, curling up against the backs of your knees. One last squeeze of your shoulder is all you feel before you drift off again, hazy thoughts dragging you under as the front door locks behind him.

You aren’t asleep for long. The cat walks across your side, paws digging into a tender spot between two ribs, and you jolt as an aching pain builds inside your chest. The discomfort makes you wheeze, and you wince, shooing away the whiskers that tickle your cheek. The cat jumps onto the floor, the bell on his collar jingling as he pads across the floor and disappears into the other room.

You roll onto your back, wincing as the motion jostles your bruised ribs. You should probably ice them again. Huffing, you glance towards the kitchen where Masaki’s cat is probably sitting on the counters, knowing you won’t be able to get him down with your current predicament. That’s the last thing you want to deal with right now. You don’t want to be here right now. It’s for your own good. You need to rest and heal.

But you’re tired of lying around at home, having nothing to do but sleep and recover and spend too much time lost in your own head as you try to remember every detail of what happened that night. You can’t forget those eyes no matter how hard you try, and the thought of them makes a slow shiver roll down your spine.

Growing up this close to the ocean, you’ve heard all the stories. The local legends meant to scare small children away from the water after dark or amuse the tourists that flock to the beaches during the summer season. Ningyo. Mermaids. They’re just myths, and yet you swear you saw something--someone--in the water that night. Even now, you can’t shake the feeling of warm hands on your skin, red and white blurring your vision.

A hallucination, probably. A figment of your imagination summoned by the lack of oxygen in your lungs as it slowly started to affect your brain. And yet.

Your hand drifts to your chest, where the sea glass pendant is resting against the mottled bruises spreading across your skin like an ugly watercolor painting, purple and black in places from hands forcing your lungs to expand, to expel the seawater you swallowed. They’ve started to yellow at the edges already, but it doesn’t make them any less sickening to look at, and you know your friends keep staring at them, a violent reminder of what could have happened. Your thumb drags against the side of the smooth glass. You should have lost it in the water. There’s no possible way it should have washed up on the beach beside you, not during a storm like that, not when you’re so sure that you’d already let it go before the water rushed down your throat.

Even though you know Masaki will be pissed about it later, you grab your phone and house keys off the coffee table and roll off the couch. The floor is cold against your bare feet as you head for the front door. You slip on your sandals, and then you’re gone.

You wind up at the beach. Somehow, that’s where you always end up.

It’s early, and almost eerily quiet. The sun is barely rising over the horizon, bathing the crystalline sea water in golden light and causing the ocean to shift between shades of teal and frothy aquamarine. You’re half-heartedly combing the beach for more sea glass, bare feet sinking into the sand as you search for even the faintest glint of color against the damp ground, following the familiar path you always take across the beach. The tide is low, waves lapping at the shore. And you’re the only one here.

Why the hell did you come here? Your lips curve into a frown as you make your way to the other end of the beach, gaze drifting across the ocean until you catch sight of the rocks leading out into the water. Somewhere in the back of your mind you can picture Bakugou’s back disappearing over the side of the rock, and you follow the same path as you did the week before.

The rocks are rough beneath your feet, but dry this time, the early morning sun causing the water to evaporate, leaving the surface warm against your skin. The next thing you know, you’re sitting on the edge of the rock, legs stretched out in front of you as you recline back on your hands, eyes on the horizon across the water. It’s quiet out here, the gentle crash of waves the only sound for miles.

You dip your feet into the ocean and flinch, shivers wracking your body as the icy water laps at your toes.

“You shouldn’t be out here.”

The sudden voice makes your eyes snap open, panic seizing you when you realize you’ve been caught. Your first thought is Bakugou and Midoriya, but the voice is too deep and too calm. A little dazed, your head lolls to the side, and a striking pair of mismatched eyes lock onto your own. Your breath catches in your throat, your limbs stiffening under the unexpected stare.

There’s a young man in the water, no older than you, and you stare back at him curiously, taking in what little of him you can see above the water. His hair is unusual, red and white split right down the middle, and it looks too soft and smooth for being so wet. There’s a scar covering his left eye, red and angry, but you look right past it, silver and turquoise stealing your attention.

The sea glass pendant in your hand slips between your fingers and bounces off your collarbone. He follows the motion with his eyes, latching onto the dark bruise peaking out just above the neck of your shirt. A grimace twists his mouth before his features become carefully blank.

When you don’t respond, he sighs. “It’s not safe this far out on the rocks,” he says, a flicker of irritation in his gaze. “You could drown.” The edge of his mouth twitches. “Again.”

The single word punches straight through your chest. You flinch, curling in on yourself, and for a second he looks almost apologetic, but the stern glint in his eyes doesn’t disappear. “How…” You stop yourself, a question on the tip of your tongue. It shouldn’t be real, none of it, and yet your eyes wander down what little of his neck and shoulders you can see, and he’s just out of reach, close enough for you to lean over and touch if you really tried. He stares at you, waiting, but not patiently. “I saw you that night,” you tell him slowly, carefully, just in case this really is a dream or drug induced hallucination. “In the water.”

His head tilts to one side, but he doesn’t deny it.

The lack of response makes your fingers curl against the rock. Your tongue swipes across your bottom lip. “Thank you.”

His voice is deep and warm when he speaks again. “You’re welcome…” The sentence trails off awkwardly, neither of you knowing what to call the other.

You sit up slowly, unfurling your legs so that your legs are dangling in the ocean again, deeper this time, the water reaching almost to your knees. The sun is brighter now, the glare from the light making it hard to see beneath the crystal water. All you can make out is a dark mass moving beneath the surface. Not legs. Something else.

He’s busy staring at you too, eyes drifting to your bare legs as his brows furrow, though they snap up to your face when you call out to him. Bemusement creeps into his features. “My name,” you clarify, offering him a small smile.

A clicking sound leaves the back of his throat. “Isn’t that rather informal?” he asks you, eyes narrowing.

The laughter that bubbles up from your throat is high-pitched, almost nervous. Here you are, talking to someone that you suspect isn’t human, and he’s worried about propriety. It’s a wonder you aren’t panicking right now, but it’s not like you weren’t expecting this somewhere in the back of your mind. And the painkillers make everything just a little bit foggy, a little bit easier to digest. “You saved my life. I don’t really care about formality.”

“I see.” And then he repeats your name, slowly, seeming to like the way it rolls off his tongue. He swims a little closer to the rock formation you’re resting on, mindful of your legs. One of his hands rises from the water, gripping the stone just inches from your soft skin. His fingers are long, clawed at the tips, and your breath hitches as they dig into the rock, allowing him to pull himself part way out of the water. “Shouto,” he says. This close, you can see that his teeth are sharp, filed into wicked fangs. “My name,” he adds, something like amusement swimming in the depths of his eyes.

“Nice to meet you.” Again, you think, by don’t say. A strange feeling tickles at the base of your spine, but you ignore it, simply trying to process what’s happening.

Shouto blinks at you, frowning again, and then his gaze slides sideways to the empty beach, expression pensive. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, without thinking. Because why the hell did you come here? Why did you come back to the beach this quickly? To the spot where you slipped and the current dragged you down with violent intentions. Maybe you needed to prove to yourself that you aren’t afraid. Maybe you’re just stubborn. It doesn’t really matter either way.

Your gaze drops to the ocean, and you’re only half surprised by what you find there.

A red mass curls just beneath the water, and something warm and smooth brushes against your leg. Through the gentle rise and fall of the waves, you see what must be his tail: red, white, and black stripes a clear warning for anyone that might dare to cross him. Like the bright patterns of tropical fish, so alluring, masking the danger lurking just below the surface. And he’s no different. Thinner, barbed spines flare in the water behind him, carefully angled away from you, but that doesn’t stop your stomach from churning.

“Aren’t you afraid?” he asks, staring at the pendant around your neck. The sea glass is the same shade of blue as his left eye, and it’s inexplicably warm against your breast.

The question makes you pause, and your eyes leave the beautiful and deadly display of delicate fins and wicked spines below the water, but he doesn’t clarify any further. Of him? The water? Drowning again? You don’t have an answer. “Should I be?” you counter, eyes finding his once more.

His head snaps away again, back to the beach, and a sound caught halfway between a hiss and a growl slips from his mouth. You follow his eyes, surprised to see a familiar car pulling into the parking lot. The driver side door is thrown open, a head of blond hair lunging out of the front seat.

“You shouldn’t play in the water,” Shouto tells you, and you turn in time to watch him shove away from the rock. He glances at you one last time before twisting around in the water and disappearing beneath the waves.

The next morning, when Masaki comes home, he finds you on the couch where he left you, curled up on your side with his cat sleeping against your stomach and purring. You don’t move at all as he shuts the door, toeing off his shoes before stepping further into the room.

“You awake?” he murmurs, leaning over the back of the couch to look at you. His hand brushes against your temple, feeling for a temperature, and you jolt at the contact, half-lidded eyes snapping open.

You tilt your head just enough to look at him, looking him over for any cuts or bruises as well. “Yeah.”

Masaki strokes your hair away from your face, and his stern look makes you giggle. He’s never been much of an authority figure for you, not that much older than you are, but he’s always tried his best to take care of you. “Everything okay, yesterday?” he asks. “I missed a call from Midoriya, but it must have been an accident.” His mouth curves down. “I was a little worried,” he admits. “And sorry I didn’t call last night, we were pretty busy.”

“It’s okay. Everything was fine,” you promise, his concern making your heart lurch. “Missed you,” you add, already falling back asleep. Briefly, your thoughts drift to your trip to the beach, and Shouto, but it slips away from you like smoke as he pats your head, and when you wake up again, you know you can’t tell him where you went. It would only make him worry.

XXX

You keep going back to the beach.

Not often, at first. Once a week, at best. It was hard to sneak out when Bakugou and Midoriya began hovering over you, acting like your shadow whenever you left the house. You knew they were only upset and worried.

Even months later, Bakugou still blames himself for the accident, and though you aren’t afraid of the water, you know that a small part of him is terrified for you. Both boys were in a panic when they found you out on the rocks, and while Midoriya was concerned and understanding, Bakugou was harsh, nearly screaming at you. You can’t blame either of them.

But that doesn’t stop you from going back. It’s easier to slip out before sunrise, after Masaki leaves for work or just before his shift is over. He’s still protective too, watchful, but he trusts you. You talked Bakugou into keeping your first trip to the beach a secret. He wasn’t happy about it, but he caved under your pleading eyes and your promise to owe him a favor in the future.

Honestly, you weren’t expecting to see Shouto again, sure he would never come back once you realized what he was, or sure that it was a hallucination after all, some figment of your imagination conjured up to process a traumatic situation.

So you were shocked when, two weeks after the first time you really met, he appeared in the water soon after you arrived at the rocks, as if he was already there waiting for you. The conversation was as stilted as the last and about nothing at all. At least, at first. Eventually, he told you how he found you, how the storm pushed him closer to shore than he meant to be. It was only a coincidence that he spotted you in the water, the waves thrashing you around violently. He didn’t have to help you, but he did, grabbing you before the current could rip you away and dragging you back to shore.

One month bleeds into two, and somewhere in between you’ve become friends with Shouto, or, as close to friends as you can be with a creature that isn’t supposed to exist. Neither of you talk about it, but the time you spend together is comfortable, easy. You see him most days, now. Usually in the morning, still, but sometimes you come out at dusk to watch the sunset on the water, liking the way the colors burst across the sky in shades of red and violet. It isn’t often, though. Shouto hasn’t said it aloud, but you know he doesn’t like you walking back to shore at night, when the rocks are slippery and you only have the moonlight to guide you home.

Today is an early morning visit that’s bled into early afternoon. Tourist season is over, and the beach is surprisingly clear for such a nice day. Your conversation with Shouto has lapsed into comfortable silence, with you flipping through an old library book and reclining back against a flat rock further into the water than you usually go.

You flip to the next page, frowning at the crude drawing of a mermaid. Not bothering to read the text, you close the book with a snap. Slowly, you stretch out on the rock you’ve been lying on, sitting up as you set your book aside. Beside you, Shouto cracks open a turquoise eye as he feels you move, tail lazily swishing in the water as he suns himself. His brows furrow when he finds you staring at his hip where the paler skin of his torso melds into the smoother, slippery texture of his lower-half. You’re looking at the bright pattern of his tail with a inquisitive expression he’s never seen before, and his skin begins to feel hot and itchy, like he’s been in the sun for too long.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, shifting his arms beneath his head to look at you with both eyes, a small frown tugging at his lips.

Startled, your eyes snap up to meet his, a flush creeping up your neck. Hopefully he doesn’t notice. “Nothing,” you’re quick to tell him, dismissing the thought that crossed your mind. You haven’t known him long, and you aren’t sure it’s appropriate to ask. Still, you find your mouth moving without permission. “I just…” Shake your head, you loop your arms around your legs and pull them to your chest. You cast another curious glance towards his tail. “Can I…?”

He’s confused until you gesture with your fingers towards his tail. Shouto tenses, muscles flexing beneath his skin as he eyes you warily, jaw clenched. In the water, his tail flicks, twitching like an irritated cat. Then, he stills, relaxing slowly against the rock. He drops his head back to his folded arms, but doesn’t take his eyes off you.

“Stay away from the spines,” he tells you firmly, watching as you reach forward, fingers outstretched to touch him. The first brush of your fingertips makes him tense again, and he holds his breath as you ghost your hand from the pale skin over his hip to the jagged pattern of red and white stripes on his tail.

The texture makes you hum, smooth and a bit slippery. There are no scales like you expected, like movies and fairy tales led you to believe, only skin like that of a dolphin or whale. “You’re part lionfish,” you note, tracing one of the red stripes cutting across his tail. “I looked it up,” you add as he glances up at you, one eyebrow quirked towards his hairline. “Are you venomous, too?”

He stiffens again as your fingers move closer to one of the spines jutting from his fins, holding his breath until you move away just as quickly. For a minute, he remains quiet, letting you touch him. “Yes,” he says, voice strained. “But I’m not part fish, technically.”

You glance away from his multi-colored fins to meet his eyes. “So you’re a mammal then?” That makes sense. He’s almost entirely human from the waist up, aside from his teeth and claws, but you’re still stuck on the concept of fish-people. Kirishima would love to be hearing all of this. He’s always been fascinated with mermaids and ocean life. You can only imagine the expression on his face if he found out who you’ve been talking to for the last few weeks, and the thought makes your lips twitch in amusement.

Shouto misses your smile, eyes locked on your hand as you absentmindedly stroke his flank. “We need to breathe air,” he confirms. “Just not often.” His brows furrow. “Maybe twice per hour if we need to stay submerged, but it doesn’t hurt us to stay above water like this.”

“That makes sense.” You pause over a dark burgundy stripe, wetting your lips. “So why this coloring? Most sea mammals aren’t this brightly colored.”

This time, he shrugs, eyes closing as your blunt fingernail drags against his side. “We all look different. Some of us have spines. Others have tails like sharks, or whales. I don’t know why.” You remain silent, and Shouto cracks open his eyes to look at you again. His tongue slides across his lower lip. “My mother has the fins of a butterfly koi, my father a lionfish.”

Your touch moves to another stripe, white this time. “So you take after him?”

The phrasing makes him frown, but he nods. “I look like him,” he tells you.

“I see. And how venomous are you?” You did some research about lionfish venom. Vomiting. Fever. Convulsions. Temporary paralysis in some unlucky people. Rarely death unless an allergic reaction occurs. It isn’t pretty, but it could certainly be worse.

Unintentionally, your hand wanders back to his hip, where a series of sharp barbs are jutting from his skin.

Shouto grabs your wrist just before your fingers reach the underside of one of his spines. His grip is firm, but gentle, and you shiver when his claws graze the inside of your arm. “I’m a lot bigger than a fish,” is his sharp reminder, and your eyes snap to his. The corner of his mouth twitches like he wants to say more, but he only moves your hand to his back instead, inches from his tail. His tail flicks in the water again now that you aren’t near his spines. “What have you been reading?” he asks abruptly, gesturing with his head to the book you set aside.

You pull your hand from his side, twisting around to reach for the book, and don’t see the way his lips curve down. “Some old legends about you,” you explain, shifting so that you’re facing him as you tuck your legs beneath you. “Merpeople, I mean.”

“Oh?” he muses, quirking a brow as he glances from you to the book. “Like what?”

A sly smile crosses your face as you remember one version of the story you read. “Nothing much.” The book’s leather spine is rough against the tip of your finger. “Just that mermen like to come ashore and seduce young women.” Leaning in close to him, you almost burst into giggles at the wide-eyed look he throws you. “You wouldn’t do that, would you, Shouto?” you ask him, voice barely above a whisper.

He freezes, the muscles in his shoulders and back tensing. The sharp spines on his tail flex, and his claws dig into the rock beneath him. Shouto is completely rigid, puffed up, his eyes wide as his pupils narrow into slits like a cat. For a second, his gaze is almost predatory before it slips into something more akin to alarm. It’s not at all what you were expecting from him.

“You’re teasing me,” he realizes a moment later, pupils dilating once more. His tail twitches, his spines returning to a more relaxed position. Shouto takes a deep breath, shaking his head as a giggle finally slips from your mouth. “You shouldn’t do that,” he says, sending you a mock glare, though, he’s unable to hide the upwards tick of his lips.

Laughing, you stretch out your leg, prodding the side of his ribcage with your toes. Shouto seizes your ankle before you can pull away, and this time you feel the sharp points of his claws against you, a playful warning more than a threat. “Well, it’s not true, is it?” you joke to cover the faint hitch in your breathing. The hold he has on you is light and incredibly careful, but your pulse still races at the contact.

The grip he has on your ankle tightens just a fraction. He braces his free hand on the rock, using it for leverage as he rises off the ground, eye-level with you. “What if it was?” he asks, voice lower than usual, deeper. His head tilts to the side, his gaze magnetic as he draws your leg closer to his chest. The palm of his hand creeps towards your calf. Luring you in.

“Now who’s teasing?” you joke, giggling again, the pitch just a little higher than usual--a little nervous. Shouto must notice, because he snatches his hand away from you like he’s been burned. His claws scrape against the rock as you pull your leg back towards your chest, wetting your lips. “Would you…” you trail off, and his eyes snap to meet yours. “Would you tell me more? About you?”

He shuffles on the rocks, propping himself up with his hands and moving most of his weight to his tail, almost mirroring you. Silently, he opens his mouth, revealing a row of sharp teeth. “What would you like to know?” he eventually asks.

“Everything.” Looking out over the water, your fingers absentmindedly brush against your collarbone before you grab the pendant around your neck. Shouto follows your hand with his eyes, lingering on the space above the low collar of your shirt where your bruises have finally disappeared. It doesn’t hurt to breathe anymore.

“Okay,” he agrees, watching you caress the sea glass around your throat.

And he does, tell you everything. Bits and pieces about his culture and his family. Shouto explains that there are two types of merfolk, those born like him and those created from seafoam and lost souls, drowned sailors brought back by the sea god Ryujin, a great dragon who controls the tides. He tells you about his mother, a gentle soul that’s as fascinated by those on the land as her son, and his father, who he only mentions in passing, but the curl of his lip says more than he ever could. He has a sister, Fuyumi, and two brothers, Natsuo and Touya, though the latter has been lost for some time. Families travel in pods, sometimes migrating across the oceans, but his has stayed in the area for generations. According to Shouto, there are several families in the nearby waters, though most don’t travel this close to the shore.

He tells you a story about Ryujin. How the sea god controls the tides with a pair of glittering jewels and how one of the gems was cracked, broken fragments swept away by the ocean. His voice is low when he tells you how the merfolk that find these fragments are able to summon the god himself, and are granted a single wish.

You listen intently for what might be hours, only occasionally asking questions, jokingly wondering about the validity of certain fairy tales and myths. His nose wrinkles at the absurdity of most, but some make him pause like when you teased him earlier.

It isn’t until you get a text from Masaki asking when you’ll be home that you realize how long you’ve been there.

XXX

You should have known better than to think you could keep Shouto a secret for long, that your friends wouldn’t notice that you’ve been disappearing for hours at a time. None of them ask about where you go, chalking it up to trauma and processing what happened that night several months ago. They give you space until your ribs are healed and your smile isn’t tight at the edges.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know they wouldn’t like you going to the beach by yourself. Iida would lecture you on taking proper safety measures if he knew; Bakugou would be pissed. You think Midoriya and Ochako would understand, even if they didn’t like it, and Kirishima would pin you with a puppy-eyed look until you caved and let him come with you. But how can you possibly explain to them that you’ve been going to the beach most days of the week to speak with a merman that saved you from drowning?

They wouldn’t believe you. Hell, you wouldn’t believe you either if you hadn’t been speaking with Shouto for months now. Despite your easy acceptance of merpeople, you have no way of knowing how your friends might react to the information, and that makes you nervous. Besides, it’s not your secret to tell.

Eventually, sneaking around catches up to you. It’s early in the morning, your conversation with Shouto ending early because of the cars pulling into the lot down the beach. Soon there would be too many people in the water for him to be there without someone noticing him there, and Masaki is coming home from a double-shift and you want to be home to see him, so the two of you say your goodbyes and head off in opposite directions.

You’re just climbing over the last of the sea rocks, your sandals in hand and stupid grin on your face, when someone steps directly in front of you. Your eyes snap up, locking with an angry carmine gaze that makes your heart stop.

“Shit,” you say before you can stop yourself, stomach churning sickly at the glare you’re met with. Your sandals fall onto the sand, but you don’t bother to pick them up. Heart lurching, you don't move from where you’re half-crouched over the rocks, tense and a little nervous. Not because you’re afraid, but because you have no idea how to explain this.

A muscle jumps in Bakugou’s jaw as he clenches his teeth. There’s a hurricane behind his eyes, only tempered by the fact that you’re in front of him, okay, but that doesn’t stop his hands from shaking. “Your cousin called,” he tells you, voice tight with anger--real anger. Or hurt. He’s always loud, always yelling. It’s when he’s quiet like this that you know something is wrong “He came home early. Said he couldn’t find you. You weren’t answering your phone.”

You wince. Shit, you left your phone at home this morning. “Bakugou,” you start to say, but stop when he narrows his eyes.

“I lied for you,” he continues as if you hadn’t spoken. “He was worried, because you almost died a few months ago, and I told him you were with me, and you’d be home soon.” His hands curl into loose fists. “You wanna tell me what the fuck you’re doin’ here?” he asks, a low growl. “At the same fucking spot where you almost drowned?” When you open your mouth, but don’t respond, Bakugou releases a humorless laugh. “Get in the fucking car,” he demands, gesturing up the beach to where you can see the familiar vehicle waiting. You should have noticed it earlier.

The command makes you bristle, and you glare back at him, a retort already burning on the tip of your tongue, but the look in his eyes makes you feel sick again. Phantom pain laces across your ribs and crawls down your throat, and for a second you feel like you’re drowning all over again.

Bakugou’s hand trembles as he drops it back to his side, and his breathing is heavier than normal, like he’s about to start crying, but his glare doesn’t soften at all.

You drop down onto the sand in front of him, leaving your sandals on the ground as you start walking across the beach. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Bakugou scoop them up, and he stays just a half-step behind you the entire way to the car. The sand is hot in the mid-morning sun and burns your toes, but you don't slow. If he’s going to lecture you, you’d much rather it be in his car than out here.

Climbing into the passenger seat, you keep your gaze locked out the window, refusing to look at your friend as he slides into the driver side. Bakugou closes the door harder than usual, and the sound makes you wince, surprised. Your eyes snap to him without meaning to, but he isn’t looking at you. Staring out the front window, Bakugou’s jaw is clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white from the grip he has on the wheel.

Sitting in silence, you wait for him to speak, or yell, or curse you out for making him worry--though he’d never admit it out loud--but the quiet persists to an unnerving degree. You’d expect this from Masaki, or even Iida. Not him. Not Bakugou. The only sound in the car is his slow breathing before he starts the car.

Neither of you speak on the drive back to your house. You have no idea what to tell him, and for once he seems set on keeping his mouth shut. This isn’t something you’ve ever had to deal with before, and that scares you a little. It feels delicate. A time bomb waiting to go off. Bakugou is a hand grenade, and you’ve already pulled the pin.

He parks outside of your house, but doesn’t turn off the car as he waits for you to leave. By the expression on his face, you know he’s not in the mood to talk--the mood to listen--but if you leave this car now, you know this will fester. Rot. And you can’t risk losing your best friend.

“I saw someone,” you blurt, shifting in your seat to face him. You pull your legs onto the seat, tucking them beneath you, and Bakugou’s eyes cut right through you. “That night, in the water,” you clarify, watching the way he stiffens in his seat, “I saw someone.”

His fingers clench around the wheel again as he looks away from you. “Mizushima, don’t--”

“Listen to me,” you snap, not even sure what you’re saying, all you know is that it hurts when he calls you by your last name instead of whatever shitty nickname he’s latched onto this week. “I should have died.” The assertion makes him tense, but you don’t stop there. “You know I should have died.” Your voice cracks on the last word, a lump in your throat. “And we both know the current wouldn’t have pulled me back that way. That’s not how it works. And this?” You grab the necklace you haven’t taken off since he and Kirishima handed it to you. Bakugou looks at you again, glancing at the sea glass that caused you so much trouble and so much joy all at once. “I dropped it in the water. I let go. I remember letting go.”

A part of you is pleading for him to understand, but he can’t. Not if you don’t tell him.

“I just--” You sink back against your seat, turning away from him to stare out the window. “I just needed to go back. I don’t know why--maybe because I was scared or I wanted to prove I wasn’t a fucking coward, but I just did.”

He’s close enough for you to hear him swallow, and beneath the hum of the engine you hear him ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it wasn’t about you, Katsuki,” you tell him, an edge creeping into your tone. His head snaps up and around again, carmine eyes burning into the side of your face, and you sigh. “I needed to go there for me. And I didn’t need you there because I didn’t blame you for any of it.”

“Well I do,” he snaps, flinching like he didn’t mean to say it, but you’re staring at him now, and it’s too late to take it back. “We found you on the beach and I thought I fucking killed you because I had to act like a fucking asshole.” He cards his fingers through his hair, gripping and pulling at the spiky strands. “And then you fucking disappear and Deku and I find you on the goddamn rocks--” He stops abruptly, sucking in a sharp breath.

It clicks then. He isn’t angry. Not really anyway. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” you tell him, barely a whisper.

“Who said I was scared, dumbass?” He huffs, and the insult makes you grin, but your expression sobers when he levels you with a firm stare. “You should have told me you were going out on the rocks,” he says. “I would have gone with you.” A flush creeps up his neck, and he looks away again. “Kirishima and Uraraka have been worried about you. How do you think they’d feel if you fucking slipped again and one of us wasn’t around? I don’t give a fuck if you need to think or figure some shit out, tell someone where you are.”

“I know,” you say, just as softly as before. The last thing you wanted was to worry them. “I’m sorry.”

Bakugou sighs and shuts off the car. “And?” he demands, stressing the single word.

You frown, brows furrowing. “What?”

“You said you saw someone in the water,” he says with a roll of his eyes, repeating what you told him a minute ago. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Right. It slipped out before you could stop it. You stare back at him, and Bakugou arches an expectant eyebrow. “I need to talk to you,” you tell him. “All of you. And I really need you to believe me.”

Predictably, telling your friends about the merman that saved your life doesn’t go over exceptionally well.

Iida is convinced you need a doctor. You’re almost positive that he would have thrown you over his shoulder and ran for the nearest hospital if Bakugou wasn’t standing beside you like a guard dog. He tells you exactly what you expect to hear, about hallucinations and near death experiences, how sometimes trauma makes people see things that aren’t really there. He’s blunt, but not unkind. Midoriya agrees with Iida, and seems almost apologetic for it, but doesn’t say much else from where he’s sitting cross-legged on your living room floor.

Ochako and Kirishima are slightly more accepting, though you think it’s mainly because they can see you’re getting frustrated, and sometimes that makes it hard for you to breathe.

Bakugou calls you an idiot, but not a liar, and that’s about as much as you expected coming from him.

So, you tell them you can prove it.

XXX

It takes a week for all of you to find a morning in your schedules when you’re free. Most of Iida’s classes are in the morning, and Kirishima works weekends, but you manage to make it work. You all drive down to the beach, the six of you squeezed into Bakugou’s car.

Ochako is still half-asleep when you make it to the beach, the sun barely beginning to rise, and Kirishima piggybacks her across the sand until you reach an achingly familiar set of rocks jutting out into the ocean. None of them look comfortable being here. The six of you have only been back to the beach a handful of times since your accident, and even then, you never got this close to the water.

Maybe they need this as much as you do. To everyone else it was a miracle that the current sent you back to shore, but Shouto? Shouto is real. Tangible. Undeniable proof that you’re okay, that it wasn’t sheer luck that the waves were merciful on you, because they weren’t. Somehow, he makes the situation easier for you to swallow.

“I can’t believe you losers talked me into this,” Bakugou grumbles behind you, as if you’re all still obnoxious teenagers instead of young adults. He’s been in a mood all morning, though you aren’t sure if it’s because he really thinks this is ridiculous, or if he’s nervous being back here. The last time he was near these rocks, he was too angry to think about anything else.

“You wanted me to prove it,” you remind him, glancing at him over your shoulder, eyes narrowing. “So I’m proving it.” They aren’t stopping you now that you’re already here.

Bakugou’s gaze darts to Ochako’s, and she gives him a nearly indiscreet nod, urging him to try again. They know that ganging up on you won’t work, but Bakugou has always had a way of talking sense into you. Unfortunately, that won’t work this time. “Come on,” he drawls, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts, expression nothing short of irritated. “This is fucking stupid.”

Another withering glare makes him snort and cross his arms, and you purse your lips. “You said you’d believe me,” you remind him, recalling his promise from that day in the car. Throwing his words back into his face is a low blow, and you know it, but right now you really don’t care.

“That was before you started talking about mermaids and shit,” Bakugou snaps, chest puffing up.

“Merman,” you correct him, knowing it’ll annoy him. The way he grits his teeth is satisfying in itself. “And be nice. I don’t need you scaring him away because you still haven’t figured out how to play well with others.”

Sighing, Iida steps forward. He’s dressed for the beach today, unlike the last time he was here. Aside from the lifesaver tossed over his shoulder, he looks like any other young adult frequenting the beaches in the area. If it was anyone but Iida, you’d think the precaution was mocking, but this is the man that carries a miniature first aid kit in his bag at all times.

“Mizushima, if this is--”

“It’s not,” you snap at him, a little harsher than intended. The insinuation that this is nothing but a joke or prank is more grating each time one of them suggests it. “I’m pretty sure I haven’t been hallucinating for the last few months, but if I have been, I’m sure Katsuki won’t let me live it down.” You toss him a look over your shoulder. “And don’t you dare call my cousin, Iida!”

You don’t even want to think about how Masaki would react to all of this.

Iida looks like he’s about to say something else, but Kirishima interjects. “Come on, guys, lighten up!” He steps forward and tosses an arm around Bakugou’s neck, pulling the fuming blond down to his height. Bakugou doesn’t look happy about it, but he doesn’t protest either. “So what if it’s just a prank? There’s no harm in her dragging us out here. I mean, it’s not like the rest of us had any plans today.” He offers you a sunny smile that you return with a hesitant one of your own. “Besides, it’s been awhile since we all got to come out here. Gotta say, I kind of missed it!”

“Thanks, Kiri,” you whisper back, smiling just a bit wider when he throws you a thumbs up.

His miniature speech only seems to placate Ochako, who links her hands in front of her and gives you a hesitant smile. Iida glances between you and the rocks dubiously, and Bakugou looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. The only one who hasn’t said anything yet is Midoriya, which is unusual. At least he isn’t trying to talk you into leaving like Iida and Bakugou.

Suddenly, Ochako breaks away from the semi-circle your friends have positioned themselves in. She takes two steps toward you, pinning you with a fierce glare, and then her hands smack against either side of your face, squishing your cheeks. “You know this sounds completely crazy, right?” she asks you, brown eyes staring intensely into yours.

“Yeah,” you reply quietly, ignoring the curious looks of the boys as they stare at the two of you.

She nods. “And you know I love you anyway, right?”

It’s hard to smile with the way she’s squishing your cheeks, but you manage. “I do.” Ochako has always been your biggest supporter, ever since you were kids. Even if today is an utter disaster, you know she won’t judge you for it--at least, not for too long. You couldn’t ask for a better friend than that.

“Good,” she says, releasing you in favor of crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t you dare fall in the water,” Ochako tells you. “Kiri can’t hold us both back if you do.” She means her and Bakugou, of course. The pair are certainly a force to be reckoned with, and you know you’ll have hell to pay if anything terrible happens. Ochako may look cute, but she can have a bit of a mean streak.

Either way, you nod, silently promising that everything will be okay. They’re all looking at you with a nervous flicker in their eyes, like they’re expecting you to slip and fall again, and the thought makes your stomach flip. You can almost feel the water rushing into your lungs. The sting of salt in your throat. “Just, wait here,” you say, stepping away from Ochako and swallowing down the lump in your throat. “Give me five minutes.”

“Three,” Bakugou tells you, crossing his arms. Beside him, Midoriya nods his agreement, hands curled into loose fists at his sides. “Like hell we’re gonna wait here for that long because you wanna be alone with your fish-man, or whatever.” You roll your eyes. “So get moving. And if you fall in the fucking water again, I’ll kill you myself.”

Midoriya, who had been nodding along with Bakugou, jolts at the threat. “Kacchan!” he yelps, green eyes wide with alarm.

Your lips twitch. “Noted.” Without another word, you twist around on your heel and pull yourself onto the rock, the grooves and sharp edges familiar beneath your bare feet. Your friends begin muttering to each other as you climb over the rock, but you don’t dare glance behind you. It’s still early, so the rocks are still damp beneath you. Though the water isn’t deep here, your skin still crawls at the thought of your head beneath water.

It doesn’t take long for you to reach your usual spot further out in the water, just out of sight of the shore. You can’t quite see your friends from here, and for a second that makes you nervous, but you take a deep breath, holding it in as your feet press against the surface of the flat rock the six of you can all sit on comfortably.

Slowly, your eyes scan the water’s surface, searching for a glimpse of red or white as you sink down onto the rock, kneeling just inches from the edge. You wet your lips, leaning forward to peer into the ocean. It’s hard to see anything with the sunlight reflecting on the surface, and you bite your lip as a faint pressure settles around your ribcage.

Maybe this was a mistake. You should have just lied to Bakugou again. That would have been easier than whatever the hell you think you’re doing now. You just had to be stubborn about this, but it would have been so much easier to drop the merman conversation and let them all think it was just some big joke. They’d never let you live it down, but you think you’d take that over the nervous fluttering of your heartbeat.

When the water ripples in front of you and a pair of mismatched eyes meet yours under the water, you feel like you can breathe again. You lean back, and Shouto follows you, head emerging from the water as his clawed fingers dig into the side of the rock, using it for leverage as he pulls his shoulders and chest from the water. A few of his spines breach the surface behind him, bright red beneath the sun, and this close you can see his tail swishing lazily in the water.

“Shouto,” you breathe, a tinge of relief palpable on the syllables of his name as they leave your tongue.

He shakes his head, splattering you with saltwater from his hair, and peers at you through his bangs, looking a cross between bored and annoyed. “You’re late,” he tells you, lips curved downward at the edges in a look you’ve grown familiar with in the months that you’ve known him. “You said you’d be here for the sunrise.”

A nervous giggle escapes you, and you open your mouth to tell him that getting your friends anywhere is like herding cats--Ochako is always half asleep, and Bakugou is uncooperative; Iida is the only one prepared on time, but his lectures inevitably make him late anyway--but what slips out instead is a painfully soft, “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

He’d been apprehensive when you asked if he would meet your friends, something you couldn’t blame him for. Already, you’re privy to information you shouldn’t be. There’s a reason merfolk aren’t known to the world, and if the wrong person knew about him, it could be disastrous. But these are your friends, and you know they’d never do anything to hurt you or Shouto like that. Even still, you were hesitant to even ask him to show himself, though he was the one to first approach you.

Somewhere, in a small, quiet part of your heart, you were so sure that he wouldn’t be here waiting for you today.

The admission makes Shouto’s eyes widen. His pupils shrink into catlike slits, before dilating once more, and the spines lining the vertebrae of his tail flare slightly. His tail flicks back, creating a small wave in the water. “Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, brows furrowing slightly. “I said I would.”

“I know,” you murmur back, shifting enough to slip your legs into the water. Shouto moves with you, perfectly in tune as his eyes follow every subtle shift in your expression. “I just…” He continues to stare as you trail off, and your fingers find the sea glass around your neck. It’s warm beneath your touch. The pressure in your chest loosens as the weight of it presses against your palm. “Are you sure this is okay?” You stress the question, searching his gaze for any hint of refusal or discomfort.

There’s still enough time for him to turn and disappear back into the water. You have another minute until your friends follow you, and if he wants to go, you’ll let him. Damn the consequences. You’d rather look like a fool than do something you can’t take back.

But Shouto snorts, pulling himself closer to the rocks, closer to you. His right hand reaches for you, and you shiver as his claws ghost across your skin just above the edge of the water. The heat of his palm sinks into you. When you sigh, he pulls you closer. “They’re your friends.” It’s a reminder instead of an answer to the question, which would be frustrating if he were anyone else. “I trust you,” Shouto adds, softer than before, the low, comforting tone of his voice causing heat to spread through your limbs.

The pad of his thumb rubs against the side of your leg.

“What the fuck?” a deep voice growls from behind you, startling you both.

Shouto rips his hand away from your leg, going rigid as the spines on the back of his tail flare again. His pupils narrow into slits, and his lips curve back over his teeth in a warning as a hissing sound escapes him. His muscles coil, prepared to strike, and your head whips around to meet wide carmine eyes, Bakugou staring at you and Shouto in disbelief. His mouth moves soundlessly. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless by something before, and if the situation was different, you would probably laugh.

The rest of your friends are behind him, expressions varying degrees of shock and disbelief.

You’re quick to reach for Shouto, the merman still growling from the water. The sound breaks off as soon as your fingers brush against his shoulder. His gaze snaps to you, checking to make sure you’re okay before his narrowed eyes slide back to Bakugou, his tail lashing almost violently through the water.

The silence doesn’t last for long. Bakugou glances wildly between you and Shouto, gaze questioning, before he finally settles on the very real, very annoyed merman. “The fuck is this?” he snaps, voice rising in pitch.

Another irritated flick of Shouto’s tail sends droplets of water raining down on the rock. “You must be Bakugou,” Shouto muses, expression carefully blank as he looks over your friend, sizing him up. Snorting, he turns back to you, relaxed and almost bored. “You were right,” he murmurs, just loud enough for everyone else to hear. “He is obnoxious.”

Bakugou’s face twists in rage, and behind him Ochako bursts into a fit of nervous giggles as she continues to stare at Shouto. Kirishima reaches out slowly, one hand grabbing Ochako’s as the other grabs onto the back of Bakugou’s shirt. Beside him, Midoriya is openly gaping at Shouto. You can practically see the thoughts churning through his head as he stares at the merman in wonder.

Surprisingly, it’s Iida that recovers the fastest. He steps forward, moving around the others, and squints behind his glasses. “Mizushima, what is this?” he asks, repeating Bakugou’s earlier question as his mouth presses into a tight line. Iida has always been a logical man; this isn’t something he knows how to process.

Shouto’s tail twitches again. His eyes slide to Iida’s. “Shouto,” he states, then glances at you. His lips quirk at the edges as he clarifies, “My name,” just like when he first met you. Iida stares. So do the rest. And then--

“Yo, I’m Kirishima! Nice to meet ya, man,” the boy introduces himself, releasing Ochako and Bakugou to walk to the edge of the rock and plop down cross-legged beside you. He grins at Shouto and reaches over to pat you on the back. “Thanks for saving our girl here, we owe ya one!”

You sigh, leaning into Kirishima’s touch. Thank god you brought him here today. His easy acceptance is infectious, and your other friends start to relax as soon as the good natured man offers Shouto a wide smile. It might just be the biology student in Kirishima making him so readily accepting of merpeople, but you’re grateful either way.

“Of course,” is Shouto’s quiet response. His brows furrow a little, like he can’t understand why Kirishima is thanking him for not letting you drown, but he doesn’t comment on it any further.

Iida jolts suddenly, his eyes widening in horror. “Where are my manors?” he sputters, walking stiffly to the edge of the water. He crouches on your other side, one stiff arm shooting out towards Shouto. The merman flinches at the sudden movement. “I’m Tenya Iida. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Shouto stares at the offered hand, then glances at you. You lift one hand to your mouth to smother your amusement, and Shouto seems to decide Iida’s actions are harmless. Ignoring the handshake, he turns to your unnamed friends. “I suppose that makes you Uraraka and Midoriya,” he guesses, looking between the pair.

Ochako smiles shyly, nodding, and Midoriya looks like he might burst with excitement. He quickly takes Iida’s place as the taller boy steps back, a disgruntled expression on his face that makes you bite back more laughter.

“That’s right! Oh, man, when Mizushima told us about you, I thought--but wow, you are real!” Midoriya gushes, nearly slipping into the water in his hurry to reach said real merperson. You’re entirely unsurprised when he yanks off his backpack, digging out a notebook and a pen as Shouto stares quizzically. “Hold on, I have so many questions. Are you part fish? Can you breathe underwater? Are there other species of supernatural creatures that actually exist, or are merpeople an outlier. I--”

Ochako slaps her hand over his mouth from behind, cutting him off before he can ramble further. Her smile is warm. “Sorry about him, he gets excited sometimes.”

Things fall into place rather easily after that. Your friends are cautious, but friendly as they speak with Shouto, who calmly and carefully answers their many questions. He lets Midoriya examine his spines, but shifts away from a curious hand, and seems to enjoy a conversation with Kirishima about jellyfish. Even Iida joins the conversation after his shock wears off. Bakugou is the only one that doesn’t speak the entire time you’re here, standing as far away from Shouto and the edge of the rock as he possibly can, glaring.

You stay until the sun rises with the afternoon, and cars begin to pull into the parking lot across the beach, your friends murmuring their goodbyes as they gather their things and begin the careful trek back to the sand, excited chattering left in their wake. Bakugou lingers. So do you.

Once he’s sure the others are far enough away, Bakugou stalks to the edge of the rock, crouching and getting in Shouto’s face. The merman doesn’t flinch, standing his ground. “Hey, half-and-half,” Bakugou growls, lowering his voice so that you can’t hear. “Thanks.” He gestures to his chin towards you, and understanding passes between them. When Shouto gives a nearly imperceptible nod, Bakugou rises back to his feet and reaches over to tousle your hair until you swat at him. “See ya on the shore, squirt.”

“I like them,” Shouto tells you after Bakugou is gone. “They seem… nice.”

You stare at the beach, though you can’t see your friends from where you’re sitting. “Thank you,” you whisper, drawing shouto’s attention. “For doing this. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

He only blinks, head tilting slightly to one side. “You asked me to,” he says, like it’s that simple.

XXX

It’s later that same week when you find yourself back on the rock, the beach strangely empty at midday. There are dark clouds off in the distance, on the edge of the horizon, but the sun is still shining brightly at the moment. There’s a storm coming. The thought should make you nervous, but you’ve never felt anything but inexplicably safe here with Shouto in the water beside you, making lazy circles a few feet from where you’re sitting on the edge with your legs tucked beneath you.

You pull your gaze from the far off storm clouds, turning to Shouto instead, but he’s deep in thought, floating on his back with his tail fins occasionally peeking out of the water. Slowly, your eyes wander across him, taking in the pattern of his tail, the sharp spines you’re careful to stay away from, before moving up his torso to the lean muscle and broad shoulders you always seem to catch yourself staring at. He’s fit, but you reason that he’d have to be to live in the water like he does. Traveling over his neck and strong jaw, you find yourself lingering on his mismatched eyes, the two tones clashing, and the red and raw skin covering the upper left side of his face.

You’ve never asked about the scar. You’ve never had the heart or the stomach to question what could have left what looks like a terrible burn.

You don’t realize you’ve been staring until the deep timber of his voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“Does it bother you?” he asks, watching you from where he’s begun treading water just off the edge of the rocks.

Gaze snapping from the vibrant scar covering the side of his face to his eyes, you’re taken aback by the cacophony of emotions flickering in the depths of them. Not shy, but uncomfortable. Perhaps anxious.

It only takes a second for you to realize he’s asking about his scar, and the question makes your chest ache for him. “No,” you answer honestly. “Why would it?”

“It’s ugly,” he tells you, like he’s said it before. Shouto’s tone is bland, empty, like he doesn’t care, but he can’t hide the tightness around his eyes, the hurt. “My mother. She… was unwell.” He’s quiet for several seconds, unsure of how to phrase it, and you wonder if he’s ever told anyone before. “She hated my left side, but it wasn’t her fault.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you recall him saying he looks like his father, and something clicks, but you don’t want to push it. “I’m sorry,” you say instead, wincing when the words leave your mouth.

The right corner of his mouth twitches. It’s not a smile. “Me too.”

Absentmindedly, you grasp the pendant around your neck. “It’s part of you, Shouto,” you tell him, so softly that he almost can’t hear you over the sound of the water, but he’s attune to your voice after so many months. He could recognize it anywhere. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

The conversation lulls into nothing, and you search for something to fill the silence when it becomes clear that he won’t.

The silver chain you always wear curls around your finger, the sea glass thumping against your collarbone with every twirl of your hand. His eyes follow the motion, entranced by the steady rhythm, heartbeat echoing the sound. You stop suddenly, the turquoise glass brushing against your knuckles. For a moment, neither of you move, and even the ocean seems to hold its breath, waiting for you to speak. “I never asked,” you murmur, barely loud enough for him to hear over the sound of his own pulse. “But you saved this too, didn’t you?”

Your fingers trace the edge of the teardrop shape, and your eyes rise to meet his, lingering on the jewel-tone of his left side before sliding to the silver of his right.

He nods, edging closer until his claws are buried in the rocks and his delicate fins are pressed against the surface below the water. “I saw you drop it, just before you blacked out, and it was… shining in the water.” You frown, but don’t question it. The water was too dark and murky for you to see that night, but he was born for those depths, able to see what you can’t. “I thought you’d want it back if--” he cuts himself off with a sharp, angry breath and can’t bring himself to finish. Shouto clears his throat. “Besides, sea glass brings luck.”

That makes you pause again. Your brows furrow as you stare at him. “What?”

He shakes his head, waving off your questioning look. “Nothing,” he says. “Just old superstitions.” His tail brushes against the rocks again. “My mother used to tell me that when humans fall into the ocean holding something, it’s usually important to them. She was right.” He gestures to sea glass in your hand, how carefully you’re cradling it. Shouto has never seen you without it, and you keep it close to your heart like something precious.

“Maybe,” you muse, a wry smile pulling at your lips as you draw your knees to your chest, letting the pendant fall back to your chest with a dull thump that only you can hear. “I don’t know if it was that important until after. I probably should have just left it on the beach.”

Shouto pauses, pulling himself a little further out of the water. “What do you mean?”

The far off tone of your voice doesn’t disappear as you say, “I just found it before…” and trail off into nothing. As if just remembering that he’s there, you shift in place, rolling onto your knees and settling your weight onto one hip, using one hand to prop yourself up. “I collect sea glass,” you tell him, realizing the topic has never come up before. “And I’d never seen one this color before.” Shouto nods slowly, silently motioning for you to continue. After a second, you do. “When my parents… left, Masaki used to take me here all the time. Usually after storms. And we’d search the beach for glass or sea shells. Whatever we could find. Then I started coming with my friends, and I guess we never stopped.”

He’s quiet for a long time, attention stolen by the breeze as it ruffles your hair, causing strands to tickle your cheek. “I’m glad,” he says eventually, almost too quiet to hear.

And suddenly you’re close, closer than you’ve ever been before. Your hands leave the rock and hesitate before one settles on his shoulder. Shouto is stiff beneath your gentle touch, claws digging into the rock as his muscles tense. The scent of your skin wraps around him, gripping him like a vice, but it’s different. Unfamiliar. You don’t smell like him--like saltwater.

“Thank you,” you whisper, lips brushing the shell of his ear in a way that has a lick of heat arching up his back. His spines flex in the water, tail jerking suddenly, and you’re so close that he can feel the heat of your breath against the damp curve of his jaw. “For saving this, too.” A subtle shift has your lips brushing against the edge of his scar beneath his eye, your breath nervous against the side of his face.

The quickening of your heartbeat makes his own pulse spike. Shouto’s tongue dips out to run across his bottom lip. His silence makes your fingers flex around his shoulder, but before you can release him, he pries one of his hands from the rock. The threat of sharp claws against the back of your neck makes your breath hitch, but he’s nothing but gentle with you.

“Anytime,” he murmurs back to you, pressing his cheek to yours. The pendant you’re wearing glances off his collarbone, the sea glass warm to the touch.

XXX

“So,” Kirishima muses as the two of you make your way through the supermarket, a basket swinging between you as he grabs various snacks off the shelves, “there are two kinds of mer… people?” He glances down at you for confirmation. Even though you’re all adults now, your friends still get together weekly for movie nights and video games, destressing from school and staying close now that the new semester has started.

You nod slowly, trying to decide between two different brands of candy. “That’s what Shou told me,” you say, offering the candy for him to choose. Kirishima sticks both in the basket, and you roll your eyes.

He’s been asking you questions about merpeople for the last few weeks since you introduced your friends to Shouto, and his enthusiasm is kind of endearing. They’ve been coming down to the beach with you most mornings now, usually only one or two at a time, which you’ve been grateful for. It’s taken Shouto a while to warm up to them, but he seems to get along well with your friends, especially Midoriya and Iida, though he appears to take some satisfaction in trading quips with Bakugou, who mostly just glares and grumbles under his breath.

“He said there are those born normally, like him, and the ones that are reborn. Drowning victims brought back by Ryujin,” you continue when Kiri looks at you expectantly.

Kirishima nods, accepting the existence of a sea god without so much as a second glance.

And then his steps falter. He nearly drops the basket as his eyebrows furrow in thought. Red eyes peer down at you, and his mouth opens and then closes again. Kirishima clears his throat, a bizarre look on his face. “By normal do you mean, like, hatched?” he asks. “Like, out of an egg?”

You frown, bemused by the unexpected question. Of all the things he could have asked you, that certainly wasn’t one you would have expected. Though, maybe you should have. It was only a matter of time before the biology major in him rose to the surface. “They’re mammals, Kiri, they don’t lay eggs,” you remind him after a moment of stunned silence.

“They could be like a platypus,” he says, turning down the next aisle. An older man sends him an odd look, but Kirishima only grins when the man catches his eye.

You shake your head, grabbing the basket from him. “I’m almost positive they aren’t,” you say, lips twitching in amused exasperation. “And why do you care about the logistics of their birth anyway?”

He shrugs. “I’m just curious. Aren’t you?”

“About merfolk reproduction?” you clarify. “Not really.” Honestly, you haven’t thought about it. The fact that merpeople can spring into existence through the divine powers of a sea god was curious, sure, but for all you know merpeople like Shouto could be born the same way. You hadn’t thought to ask for clarification, and, frankly, you aren’t sure you want any. That’s not a question you feel comfortable asking your friend.

Kirishima rubs the back of his head and straightens his headband. “Really? I thought--nevermind.” Whatever he was about to say makes his eyes widen, and he clams up, a faint blush spreading from his cheeks to the roots of his hair like an awful sunburn.

You stop walking, looking at him out of the corner of your eye as you grab Ochako’s favorite snack off the shelf. “What?” He shakes his head, avoiding your eyes as he shuffles uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “Thought what, Kiri?” Huffing, you prop your hands up on your hips, lips pressed into a thin line as you stare him down.

It works; it always does. Even Bakugou usually gives in with a fierce enough look, and Kirishima is much more agreeable than his explosive best friend.

“I just thought it was something you might need to know,” he admits, voice a little bit softer than before, “considering, y’know? I’d say he’s pretty interested.”

Well, that’s not what you were expecting. Your lips part in shock, but your tongue feels thick and heavy in your mouth, and you gape at him like a fish out of water for a solid seven seconds. “Excuse me?” you finally sputter out. Your skin feels itchy and hot all of a sudden, and the way your pulse quickens is nothing short of embarrassing.

“What?” Kirishima’s head tilts to the side cutely. “I’m just saying. Merman doesn’t doesn’t take his eyes off you whenever you’re around. Even when you and Ochako went for a walk on the beach the other day, he was still watching to make sure you were okay.” You frown, and he holds up his hands placatingly. “Not that there’s a problem with that! He seems protective, and that’s pretty manly!” You still don’t say anything. Kirishima’s brows furrow as he tries to explain it. “It’s like he swallows you with his eyes and doesn’t leave anything for the rest of us.”

For a moment, you don’t say anything, processing the new information buzzing through your head. Does Shouto stare at you? You aren’t blind. You know he likes to keep an eye on you when you’re walking around on the rocks. It’s not like you can blame him, when you only met because you slipped and nearly drowned. But on the beach too?

The thought leaves a pleasantly warm feeling bubbling in your stomach, but you shove the feeling away, choosing not to think too hard about it. It’s probably only because you’re familiar.

You wet your lips. “Have you been reading internet poetry again?”

Kirishima blushes deeper. “Yes,” he admits. “Sero’s been sending me some, but that’s not the point.” He takes the basket from you when you roll your eyes. “The point is, don’t you want to know what goes on if you ever try to… you know.” He makes a vague gesture with his hands that you never want to see again. “Like, what if it is eggs?”

“Oh my god, please stop talking,” you whine, turning on your heel to walk away from him. This is not what you wanted to be thinking about tonight. “They don’t lay eggs.”

Kirishima is right behind you. “So you’re saying it’s sperm then? Do you think that’s why the ocean is so salty?” It’s obvious he’s joking now, just trying to get a reaction out of you--or maybe the biology nerd in him is just coming out full force. Either way, you want no part in this conversation.

“You’re disgusting.”

A laugh slips out of his mouth. He grabs your wrist before you can storm off and yanks you against his side, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Wait, wait, I’m sorry,” he says, cracking up harder. You shove his shoulder, rolling your eyes, but he doesn’t budge. “I’m sorry,” he says again once his laughter subsides, much more sincere this time. His arm squeezes around you. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I know,” you murmur, giving in to his embrace. It’s hard to resist a hug from Kirishima. “Now never talk to me about merperson sex ever again.” You don’t want to think about Shouto’s hypothetical merman penis while raiding a grocery store for snacks.

“Okay,” he agrees, leading you through the store towards the check-out. And then-- “Since you're so sure it’s not eggs, do you think it’s more like a dolphin?”

You throw his arm away from you. “Is this a kink, Kiri?” you ask him. “Are you into merpeople now?” You almost ask if he wants you to fuck Shouto, or if he’d rather do it himself, but bite your tongue at the last second. “I’m telling Bakugou and Ochako that this is what you think about.”

A sharp pinch to your side makes you squeal, and Kirishima chuckles as you swat at him in return.

You don’t think about the conversation again until later that night. You end up squished onto the couch between Kirishima and Ochako, and all of you are half asleep as you idly listen to Bakugou and Iida argue about what movie to watch next--some explosive action movie or a documentary, respectively--while Midoriya mediates, and you’re thoughts take a sudden sharp turn.

It’s Kirishima’s fault for putting the thought in your head, and you jerk fully awake, feeling like the ground has dropped out from underneath you. Your pulse jumps, skin itchy and hot at the thought of Shouto’s mouth and hands on you. Shuddering, you squeeze your thighs together. Imagining the weight of him against you makes heat pool in your lower belly. Your mouth feels dry.

It’s an impossibility. He isn’t interested; you shouldn’t be.

Noticing you’re awake, the boys arguing on the floor pause to look at you. “What’s with that stupid look?” Bakugou asks, narrowing his eyes. For once, you’re grateful that he’s an asshole most of the time. It gives you something to think about that isn’t your merman friend’s biological functions.

“Mizushima, what’s your opinion on the films?” Iida questions.

You glance at the television and blanch. “Please, don’t make me watch Blue Planet, or whatever it’s called, right now, Iida.”

Beside you, Kirishima shakes with muffled laughter.

XXX

Sea glass glitters in the sun beside you, colors ranging from off-white to orange to deep blues and greens that you’ve rarely ever seen before. You’ve gathered a small handful since telling Shouto about your collection. It isn’t every day, but some mornings he’ll hand you bits and pieces of weathered glass that he’s found in the open water. He’s careful to gauge your expression, watching the way your eyes light up with a hesitance that melts into satisfaction when you smile, pleased with himself.

Your toes dip into the gentle lull of the waves when he isn’t looking, his stare far off, brows furrowed like he’s thinking hard about something. “Shouto,” you call to him, barely audible over the rhythmic crash of the ocean against the rocks; he hears you, gaze snapping sideways to meet yours, and the jewel-tone of his left eye makes your heart lurch. The questioning stare he pins you with is replaced with shock as you flick water at him.

His disgruntled expression makes you giggle, but he doesn’t wipe away the droplets of saltwater that slide down his cheek and jaw before dripping back into the ocean. The sunlight makes his skin shimmer, and the teasing line of water that rolls down the side of his neck is nothing short of distracting.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask, brushing the stay thought from your mind. He’s been oddly distracted today, staying a little further away from the rocks than usual, a deep furrow to his brow that usually isn’t there anymore. You roll a piece of sea glass between your fingers, a few shades paler than his blue eye and the pendant you’ve worn around your neck for what feels like years now.

“You.”

The blunt response makes your head snap up. Suddenly, he’s closer than he has been all morning.

The palm of his hand cups your calf, his long fingers wrapping gently around your leg as he tugs you closer to the edge of the rock, careful not to prick you with his clawed fingertips. Shouto is warm despite the seawater, and you shiver as droplets roll down your skin in little streams, leaving behind trails of salt. His grip is loose at first, but tightens when you don’t pull away.

Shouto stares up at you from the water, and the hand that isn’t gripping your leg presses against the rocks beside your thigh, using the leverage to pull himself part way out of the water. It’s still too far away, but the distance makes your breath catch as he leans in just an inch. “You look beautiful in the sunlight.” He says it like it’s a fact, something you should already know, and your lips part in shock.

The wicked look that flickers in his eyes cuts off any response you might have had, and then he shoves himself away from you, just like the first time you met. He rolls backwards in the water once he’s a safe distance away, mindful of the sharp spines protruding from his fins. The tip of his tail flicks up and out of the water, and you squeal as he splatters you with seawater.

“Dick,” you call out as soon as he resurfaces, making Shouto chuckle as he swims back towards the rock you’re perched on. His palm finds its way back to your leg, fingers slotting around you like it’s natural, and you press your leg into his touch, liking the rough scrape of his skin against yours. “What are you really thinking about?”

“You,” he says again, but his amusement dims and his eyes narrow again, catlike slits. “It’s not safe for you to come out this far when you can’t swim.” He glances at the ocean surrounding him and grimaces.

A frown pulls at your own lips, confusion surging through you at the unexpected discussion. In all the months that you’ve known him, you wonder why it took this long for the question to come up, and why he seems so concerned. “I can swim,” you tell him, a little laugh slipping from your lips. His lips turn down and his head tilts to the side, and you huff, half-heartedly flicking more water towards him. “Maybe not as well as you, but not all of us were born in the water like you, Shou.” He doesn’t look convinced. “Why would you think I can’t swim?”

The answer is probably obvious, in hindsight, but it still startles you when he says, “You never come in the water.”

And that’s it, isn’t it. There’s a denial on the tip of your tongue, but it sticks there, refusing to be spoken. Because he’s right. In all the months you’ve known him, you’ve never done more than dip your legs into the water, and that’s only when he’s nearby. When he’s not, you rarely leave the safety of the sand. It hits you like a blow to the ribs. Phantom pain laces across your chest, and your breath hitches, so subtle that Shouto wouldn’t notice if he wasn’t so close.

A bitter thought crosses your mind. You only met him because you came out to the rocks to prove to yourself that you weren’t a coward, but it was never the rocks that scared you, was it?

Not liking the train of thought, you force a smile and try to ignore the feeling of your lungs filling up with water. “I don’t like to get my hair wet in the morning. Not all of us are naturally resistant to salt.” You brush a strand of red hair away from his eyes, the texture silky.

But Shouto isn’t convinced. “Even when you’re here with your friends, you’re always sitting in the sand,” he says, slowly, gauging your reaction to the observation. “I just thought--” And he cuts off quickly, seeming to realize what you already have.

“I can swim,” you tell him again, not as confident this time.

The way your voice trembles is answer enough for his next question, but Shouto asks it anyway, blunt and unapologetic. “Are you afraid?”

You’re silent for a long time, and Shouto squeezes your calf. “I don’t know,” is your whispered confession.

His thumb strokes the side of your leg, so, so careful as his claws slide across your delicate skin. “Do you…” The way he trails off makes you look at him, and Shouto wets his lips, eyes searching yours almost desperately. “Will you trust me?”

What he’s really asking makes you tense. The water is suddenly freezing around your legs, and your hand grasps the sea glass dangling against your chest. “What if the current pulls me under again?”

“It won’t.” I won’t let it, he doesn’t say out loud, but you hear it anyway.

You’re slow to answer, searching his gaze in return. Finding what you’re looking for, you murmur, “Okay.”

Shouto stays close to the rock as you pull your legs from the water and stand. You reach for your clothes, hesitating, but under his patient gaze you peel your shirt over your head, dropping it to the dry surface behind you. Your shorts follow, leaving you more naked than you’ve been in months. You’re so busy staring at the waves that you don’t see the greedy way his eyes take you in, drinking in the sight of your bare skin until he reaches your face and his expression softens completely. You really do look beautiful in the sunlight.

When you sit back on the edge of the rock, legs once again dangling in the water, you tense, heart in your throat as your pulse spikes. You almost pull away, but Shouto’s hand on your leg stops you. His palm slides over your knee, your thigh, and his clawed fingers curl around your hip. There’s no push or pull to his touch, he just holds you there, waiting for you to make the choice.

A shudder runs through you as you shift your hips, slowly sinking down in the water. It swallows you up, cold water rushing around your legs until it reaches your waist. Shouto never lets you go, and his hand is warm and steadying against your side, holding back the flood of panic threatening to choke your lungs.

“Watch your feet,” he murmurs, angling his tail away from your vulnerable skin.

The water reaches your chest, and suddenly the ocean is calm around you, the ebb and flow of the currents seeming to disappear as your arms wrap around Shouto’s neck, trusting him to hold you up. Neither of you move, floating mere feet away from the rocks. Your heart pounds in your chest, threatening to burst, but the gentle roll of the waves lull you.

You shiver from the cold, but Shouto is warm against your front, and you lean into his chest, tucking your head against his neck and letting the saltwater scent of him wrap around you. Being in the water again is like coming home, and for the first time since since you nearly drowned a sense of peace washes over you.

“That’s it, love,” he murmurs, lips pressed to your temple as he feels you relax. He pulls you tighter against his chest, one strong arm banded around your waist. His other hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, helping you tuck yourself beneath his chin. It causes the water to lap at your lower jaw, but Shouto chases away your fear with a gentle hand and quiet praise.

You can’t be sure how much time passes like that, but eventually your eyes slip shut, and your breathing evens out. Shouto nuzzles against your hair, a quiet purring sound rumbling deep in his chest, the vibrations soothing you. “Good?” he murmurs, breath hot against your exposed ear.

You nod, half-asleep, and it’s hard to pull yourself from the curve of his shoulder and neck, but you want to see his eyes. Shouto’s nose bumps against yours as he tilts his chin to look at you, surprised by your movement, and he tenses, eyes locked with yours and lips a breath away. “Thank you,” you murmur, almost able to taste the salt on his skin.

His throat bobs with a harsh swallow, and he leans down an inch, just to press his forehead to yours. Shouto’s claws flex against the back of your neck, almost nervous, and he looks at you like he wants to speak, but only nods.

His lips brush against your hairline as he tucks you safely back beneath his chin.

XXX

It’s nearly midnight when you make your way down to the beach, the full moon shining overhead, brighter than you’ve ever seen it. Masaki is gone for the night, and your house was too quiet, too lonely for you to stay in, unable to fall asleep. And your first thought was Shouto. You have no way of knowing if he’ll be here tonight. You never meet this late, and yet you find yourself searching for him regardless.

A large part of you felt like you needed to be here tonight, an inexplicable urge to see him overtaking you, though you already saw him once today, early in the morning. He seemed agitated then, pacing in the water more than usual, his tone gruff and snappish. You didn’t ask why, and he seemed to calm down quickly enough once you slipped into the water beside him.

Shouto practically wrapped himself around you when you did, purring as he rubbed his cheek against yours and pulled you close to his chest. Even his tail brushed against you more than usual, almost like he was trying to coax you to play.

You set his odd behavior aside as you settle into your usual spot on the rocks, legs slipping into the water on the flat of the stone, a sheer cliff disappearing into the water for twenty feet until it reaches the bottom. The hem of your dress flirts with the surface of the water, but you don’t pay it a second thought. The seawater will wash out.

“Shouto?” you call out across the waves, a distant splash causing your head to snap up. Your legs become still in the water, eyes searching for him, but the sea breeze and waves are the only sound, and you must have imagined it. Leaning back on your hands, you sigh, staring up at the moon. Pale light reflects off the water, the moon’s reflection far off on the horizon.

You shriek as something grabs you beneath the water, lashing out with your legs. Clawed fingers wrap around your legs, pinning them against the rocks. You choke on a gasp, eyes wide, but your heart slows when you see a familiar head breach the surface of the water. “Dammit, Shouto,” you breathe, giggling lightly as you shake your head. “You scared me.”

When he doesn’t respond, you glance at him, the moon so full and bright that you’re able to see him perfectly, despite the dark.

Your breath catches when you really look at the merman. For the first time since you met him, he looks utterly inhuman, and the sight makes your heart stutter in your chest. His pupils are slits, silver and turquoise swallowing the black until his eyes appear bottomless, so easy to drown in. Lips curved back over his sharp teeth, there's a flicker of hunger in his eyes as they settle on you. Something feral and wanting.

“You shouldn’t be in the water tonight, love,” he tells you, voice lower than usual, deeper, almost a growl. The shock of it rumbles through you; it makes you shiver. His claws drag against the soft skin of your leg, curling around you, and for the first time you feel the threatening prick of them. The hint of danger slams the breath from your lungs, and your heart pounds against your ribs as his hand slowly moves higher.

Taken aback by his touch, you do nothing to stop him. “Have you,” you cut off, sucking in a sharp breath as he nudges your legs apart. “Have you been here all afternoon?” You weren’t expecting this when you came down here tonight, and the way he’s touching you is making it hard to think. He’s never acted like this before. At least not around you. And it’s throwing you for a loop.

He shakes his head, claws digging into the rock. The hand curled just beneath your knee tugs you forward. You yelp, slipping down the side until you’re balanced precariously on the edge, your fingers digging into the rock to hold yourself up as he pulls your legs apart. “I could smell you,” he murmurs, purring as his mouth presses against your inner thigh, dangerously close to the line of your panties. He nuzzles you, breathing growing heavier as he drinks in your scent.

It should be embarrassing, but the way his tongue laves attention to your thigh has heat pooling in your belly. Your breathing quickens, and with one shaky hand you reach out, holding onto his shoulder for balance as wicked, sharp teeth nip at you. Your hips lurch, and Shouto’s claws dig into your thigh, not enough to hurt you, but the minor jolt of pain makes you whimper. The hem of your dress is drenched in seawater, and the fabric slides wetly over the tops of your thighs as Shouto shoves the fabric upward, giving himself more access to your sinfully smooth skin.

Your fingers dig into his shoulder as he presses slow, wet kisses across the inside of your thigh, mouth wandering, tasting you. “Shouto,” you gasp as he hikes your knee over his shoulder, giving himself greater access to you as your leg dangles down his back, seawater dripping from your skin to his. Mewling, you arch into his touch as his tongue drags across the crease between your thigh and your core. He mouths at you, and the sensation of sharp teeth on your sensitive skin makes you jolt. “Shouto,” you call his name again, “what are you doing?”

A pointless question when his head is buried between your thighs, his teeth and tongue running along your soft skin, tasting and touching as he drags quiet sounds from your mouth.

Your hips jerk, a keening cry escaping you as his teeth press down. He jolts at the sound, ripping himself away from you. A swear is hissed between his teeth. His pupils are wider when they lock with yours, wavering between lucid and feral slits. “I--I’m sorry,” he stutters, panting, claws digging into the rock beside you. “You need to… you need to go home,” he tells you firmly, glaring as he tries to pull himself from your sweet taste. “The full moon,” he continues before you can ask him why. “It makes us… frenzied, and… you smell really good.”

The way he purrs at the end of his statement makes you shiver in anticipation. You wet your lips. “What do I smell like?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

“Me,” he growls, clearly pleased with himself. When you don’t pull away, he descends on you again, and you flush as his lips brush against the front of your underwear, tongue flicking out to taste the damp spot forming between your legs. “But sweeter,” he adds, a deep rumble in his chest.

“Shouto,” you whine, hand moving to the back of his head.

Your fingers thread through his hair, and he purrs again when you tug, trying to pull him closer. “Don’t,” he snaps, pressing another chaste kiss to your thigh. “I can’t--I’m not myself like this.” His breathing is heavier than before, and he shudders. “I want to--” His fingers dig into your thigh.

“Want to what, Shou?” you find yourself asking, overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips on your skin.

His answer is immediate, a warning growl. “Breed you.”

It dawns on you then, why he was so strange earlier in the day, and why he’s acting like this now. It’s some kind of rut, or whatever they might call it. And, distantly, it makes sense. The moon controls the tides, the psyche. For creatures born from the waves, it must have some power over them as well. And he wants you. Shouto is giving you an out, a chance to run, and you should take it. It would be better to talk about this tomorrow, when he’s more himself, but then his sharp teeth nip at the meat of your inner thigh again, and you let him spread your legs wider.

“Please,” you murmur, head tilting back as he presses his face between your thighs, kitten licks toying with your clit through your panties. Each lap at your slit and sensitive bundle of nerves sends heat rushing between your thighs, and your breathing grows heavy, the pleasure almost unbearable and he’s hardly touched you. He shifts in the water, glancing up at you from between your legs, and the sight makes your core clench around nothing. “Shouto, don’t stop.”

Something flickers in his eyes.

He drags you into the water with him.

A gasp tears from your mouth, your eyes widening as he spins you around, shoving your chest against the rocks. Your short dress tangles around your thighs until he yanks it upwards, the fabric billowing in the water. He reaches around you, palming your breast through your dress, and the thin, soaked fabric clings to you, making the friction even better. The threat of his claws on your chest makes you whimper, your head falling back against his shoulder. Shouto holds you up easily in the water, tail flicking wildly beneath you. His hips press against yours from behind, smooth and flat, and your eyes flutter shut as his sharp teeth press against the side of your throat.

A hazy thought of how he plans to fuck you crosses your mind, but then something long and thick slides from a slit you never noticed in the top of his tail. You shudder as he ruts against you from behind, cock sliding wetly between your thighs. It’s slick and smooth on the sides, curved at the tip, and you moan as a long line of ridges along the top rub against your clit through your panties.

“Shouto,” you whimper, thighs squeezing around the hard length pressed between your legs. He grunts against your neck, sliding between your thighs easily, leaving them sticky with some kind of thick fluid that makes your skin feel hot.

One clawed hand wanders down the front of your torso, nearly ripping your dress in two. You arch against him, spreading your legs in the water as his long tail nudges between your knees, holding you open to the hand that slips between your legs. The tip of one claw traces your slit, and he pins you against the ledge to keep you from squirming as the smooth side of his claw rubs against your clit. He doesn’t stop until you’re squirming, begging for him to do something, as your breathing grows uneven. Sharp teeth bite down on the curve of your shoulder, and your stomach flips as he hooks his claw around the scrap of fabric between your legs, slicing through your panties with ease.

The head of his cock presses against your pussy, more of that sticky fluid smearing against your skin as those ridges slide over your clit. Whimpering, your head falls back. Your hands reach around to grab his hair, his shoulders, anything within your reach, trusting him to hold you up.

“Mine,” he growls against the back of your neck, his hand sliding beneath your dress to press against your stomach. His hips pull back and snap forward just as quickly, and you moan as the head of his cock slips inside you. Each rock of his hips forces him deeper inside you, filling you inch by inch until you can barely breathe. He’s thick, bigger than you thought, pressing against every sensitive spot inside you until there’s nowhere left untouched. You should be uncomfortably full, but the slick fluid dripping from his cock and the ridges rubbing against you have nothing but pleasure coiling inside you.

The pace he picks up is harsh, fast, his cock thrusting inside of you roughly. His breath is hot against your ear, and his teeth are pressed to the thin skin of your neck, your pulse fluttering beneath the threat of his jaws tearing into you.

Your walls clench down around him.

Shouto purrs, palm pressing firmly against your belly. You moan and gasp, choked sounds are the only noises you’re able to make as the ridges on his cock rub against your sweet spot with every stroke against your sensitive inner walls.

Your pleasure builds rapidly, coiling tightly between your legs until you’re trembling against him. Shouto’s claws flick over your nipple, rolling it carefully with his fingers, and the hand on your stomach slinks lower, dipping between your thighs to rub against your swollen clit until you come around his cock.

Another purr rumbles through his chest into yours, and Shouto’s pace speeds up even further as you clench around him, squirming.

You don’t know how long he fucks you like this, the pleasure overwhelming you as he pulls another orgasm from your boneless, breathless body. His cock twitches inside of you, seeming to swell, and his teeth dig into the curve of your shoulder and neck, drawing blood as he spills himself inside you.

“You called me yours,” you say, later, half asleep on the rocks, exhausted from your time in the water with him.

He huffs, looking down at you like it should be obvious. “I’ve been courting you for months,” he murmurs, voice muffled as he dips his chin to press his mouth against the side of your neck, mindful not to pinch you with his sharp teeth. The solid weight of him settles on top of you, his chest pressed against yours. His tongue slides out to lap at the wound on your neck. There must be something in his saliva as well, because the ache is gone as quickly as it starts.

“What?” you ask, eyes widening.

“The sea glass,” he tells you, purring as you reach around him, stroking his bare back. He nuzzles against your neck, kissing down your throat and occasionally licking the salt from your skin. “It’s...It’s what you give to lovers,” is what he tells you, hesitantly, like you might be mad.

But you reach for him, cradling his jaw and stroking his cheeks. “Does that make you mine?”

Shouto leans down to kiss you for the first time, so softly that your heart starts to ache.

XXX

Like so many nights before, you find your feet taking you to the beach, to the rocks that have become a second home to you over the last few months, to Shouto. A piece of your heart burns as you think of him, your chest filling with unimaginable heat. Your stomach churns as your thoughts sour, wondering how long things might last. Seeing each other so rarely, being different species. It won’t work, in the end, but you want to stay. You’ll stay as long as he lets you.

Your lips curve upward as soon as you see him waiting for you.

For a moment, you think he’s asleep. That he was only sunning himself on the rocks, soaking in the last rays of daylight before the sunset disappeared, and he lost track of time. He doesn’t look up as you approach, footsteps nearly silent as you traverse the rocks, knowing exactly where to step. You’ve become decent at sneaking up on him, but he always notices you before you can truly surprise him. His senses are too sharp; he’s too in-tune with you.

Dread crawls down your throat and chokes you, strangling your heart when you see blood smeared across the rocks. The faint smile quirked on your lips disappears as your eyes snap up, locking on his tense frame. You’re close enough to hear him now, muttering something in a language you don’t understand, trembling with the effort it takes to hold himself up. The sight of him makes you sick.

His back is to you, his wild stare cast out over the sea, and you’re close enough to see the long, bloody gashes stretching across his back. Deep and curved, they’ve ripped through his flesh like tissue paper. Claw marks, you realize. They’re claw marks. The spines jutting from his tail are damaged too, some snapped and jagged in places, and they seem to ooze where they’ve been broken in two, clear fluid dripping down onto his tail.

You don’t think when you lurch forward, raw panic surging inside you. Dropping to your knees beside him, you grasp his shoulder, a breathless, “Shouto,” falling from your lips.

He goes rigid beneath your gentle touch, head snapping up and around, pupils shrunken into animalistic slits. You can’t blame him for his defensive reaction. Still half-turned away, his tail snaps up and out. He lashes out, bleeding and hurt. Instinct drives him to it.

The undamaged spines stop inches from piercing through your flesh, aimed for your chest and throat, a startled sound escaping you. Your fingers tremble where they hover just inches above his arm, heart stuttering, Your chest feels tight, suddenly, like something is gripping you and squeezing, and it makes phantom pain shoot through your ribcage.

Shouto chokes out your name in the most broken, horrified tone you’ve ever heard. His spines flex, flaring, and the delicate edge of one almost lovingly brushes against your cheek. “I--I didn’t.” He’s still staring at you, looking pale and sickly under the moonlight. Claws scrape across the ground before he reaches for you, stopping before he can touch you. Tension makes his fingers tremble. He’s still coiled tightly, like might lunge for you, or throw himself into the water.

It takes a moment for your heart to slow, the sudden spark of fear bleeding away into nothing as he stares at you. Carefully, you shift away from his spines, movements painfully slow. Shouto follows you with his eyes, holding his breath. He’s stopped stuttering apologies, his jaw clenched.

When you reach forward to cup his jaw, he melts into your touch, shuddering. Your thumbs stroke across his cheeks, slow soothing motions that coax him to relax, to trust you. A soft, apologetic sound rumbles in his throat, and Shouto tilts his cheek into your touch, lips brushing against the side of your palm. “What happened?” you whisper as his pupils widen, dilating as your sweet scent washes over him.

Shouto stiffens at the question, but your soft hands and gentle touch quell the cacophony of emotions swelling inside him.

His tongue flicks out across his lips, and his tail twitches again. Shouto shifts his lower-half away from you, but can’t bring himself to pull away from you entirely. Even if he wanted to, you wouldn’t let him go far. Each subtle shift and flex of his body is mirrored by you, not giving him a moment to overthink your momentary fear.

Silence threatens to consume you both before he finally speaks. “My father found out about you,” he eventually admits, allowing you to run your fingers through his damp hair. The pad of your thumb brushes the underside of a cut across his temple, and your distress makes his stomach churn. “He wasn’t pleased.”

Outrage makes your throat tighten. “So he attacked you?” you ask in disbelief, voice strained.

“This is how our kind settle disagreements,” Shouto tells you. A heavy sigh makes his shoulders droop. His tail goes lax on the rocks, the forked fins at the bottom handing over the edge and dipping into the water. “I’ll be fine,” he promises, reaching up to cover one of your hands with his. Rough lips press against your palm again, so tender that your heart begins to ache. “We heal quickly.”

You want to argue. Want to check the wounds on his back. But you can see that he isn’t lying. Already, the horrid gashes across his back are starting to close, wounds clotting. What’s left of the blood is diluted from the water dripping down his skin, leaving watery red lines painted across his ribs, like the stripes on his tail.

Before you can speak, Shouto moves again, propping himself up with his tail and reaching for you. Your hands fall to his shoulders, and this time it’s his hands cradling your jaw so carefully, like you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever held. “Are you all right?” The tip of his nose brushes against your temple as he pulls you to his chest, arms winding around your back.

“You scared me,” you admit to him, so softly that he almost doesn’t hear you. When your words reach him, he tenses, wincing. “Not because of that,” you’re quick to say, sinking into him. The tips of your fingers brush against a wound on the back of his neck. It turns silver before your eyes. “You weren’t moving.”

His chest rumbles with a purr, and your eyes flutter shut as he presses his lips to your forehead, holding them there in a lingering kiss. “I’m sorry, love,” he murmurs, grip tightening around you. He makes another quiet sound deep in his throat, hands stroking over your back and sides reassuringly.

A sharp pain licks across your side when his palm smooths over your ribs. Before you can stop it, a soft cry escapes you, and Shouto jerks back. Mismatched eyes find yours and narrow when he sees you wince. Then, his gaze snaps to your side, hand wrenching away from you as the color drains from his face. “Blood,” he murmurs, staring at the red smear across his palm. “Are you bleeding?”

Panic creeps into his tone. The shirt you’re wearing is too dark to tell, but you whimper as his palm presses back to your side. It’s like your ribs have been bruised again, but so much worse. Fire flares across your ride side when you breathe, crawling beneath your skin.

You don’t feel it when Shouto yanks the side of your shirt upwards, claws digging into the fabric and tearing. “No,” you hear him whisper, a desperate, broken sound. He swears.

The cut across your ribs is small, shallow, but it bleeds slowly. Already, your skin is inflamed around the wound, puffy and red. The cause is obvious, and your whimper rips his heart from his chest. Shouto’s blood runs cold. His hands shake as he holds you up.

The venom works quickly. It paralyzes you. The heat burning beneath your skin is unbearably hot, and you can’t breathe.

“Shouto,” you whisper as he pulls you to his chest. “What’s going on?” Everything is foggy, muffled, like you’re underwater. Even the sound of his voice calling out your name is starting to slip away from you.

“I’m sorry,” he sputters, voice cracking. “I don’t--I didn’t--fuck, I’m so sorry, love.” He can’t fix this. He hurt you, and there’s nothing he can do to stop his venom from sinking into your flesh and blood now that it’s already there. Dammit, he should have checked you right away--but even if he had it would have been too late. One second, an instant of his control slipping. That’s all it takes for him to hurt people, and he knows that. Merfolk have no cure for his venom, but your kind do. There’s a cure for the venom of the lionfish he so closely resembles.

But he’s bigger than a lionfish.

“Shouto?” you whimper again, not understanding. You can’t breathe. Why can’t you breathe?

You pitch forward suddenly, and Shouto hushes you, lowering you onto the rock as he strokes your hair. Too weak to pull himself over the ledge earlier, the two of you are kneeling where the rock gently slopes into the water, and the currents cause small waves to lap at you. Seawater soaks into your clothes as he sets you down on your side, hands hovering inches from your skin, afraid to touch you. The sea glass pendant you’re wearing slips into the water.

The currents slow, and the turquoise glass glows beneath the moon as it sinks beneath the surface.

Shouto rolls you to your back, careful not to touch the festering wound on your side. Your eyes are half-lidded when he leans over you, nose nudging your cheek, needy as he waits for a response. There isn’t one. He tries purring again, trying to soothe you like his mother always did for him, but you’re so far gone to the venom, already half-way lost to him.

The ocean ripples behind him, the water parting as a long, serpentine head breaches the surface. Shouto doesn’t notice, still leaning over you, voice low and hushed as he begs you to move, to open your eyes, but your chest is struggling weakly now, each breath slow and painful.

A catlike, slitted pupil locks on Shouto, then you, drifting between your bodies to the necklace you wear. “So this is where it’s been,” a voice muses. A sleek, dark mass moves beneath the surface of the water, a long body writhing and twisting around itself.

Shouto’s head snaps up, and his eyes are rimmed in red as they connect with vibrant, blue irises set into a long, scaled face. Dark horns protrude from the creatures head. Fins the same deep shade of blue flutter against the creature's face, and lips curve back to reveal a row of sharp fangs.

Breath caught in his throat, Shouto can only stare at the creature he’s only heard about in tales and stories. The sea god. The dragon god. A name sticks on Shouto’s tongue, but he doesn’t dare speak it, not with the monstrous dragon rising out of the water.

“Little lost fragment,” the sea god speaks, voice soft and deep. The dragon reaches for you, one long claw brushing against your chest, the tip coming to rest over the sea glass pressed over your struggling heart. Turquoise light crackles beneath the dragon’s touch, and Shouto’s heart lurches into his throat. It isn’t sea glass at all. It never was.

“Humans shouldn’t play with things they don’t understand,” Ryujin muses, tone caught somewhere between vengeful and sympathetic. His claw hooks beneath the chain around your throat, but doesn’t pull. The pendant above your heart loses it’s glow, the dragon reclaiming its power before releasing you.

A wet crackle leaves Shouto as he tries to speak. “How--” he starts, cutting off as Ryujin’s eye cuts back to him, silencing him.

“It called to me,” the dragon god states plainly, answering what Shouto couldn’t ask. For months he searched for the fragment of his precious stones, sensing it had been claimed. A wish is owed. Ryujin glances down at you again, a low sound rumbling through his chest like thunder. “You’ve killed her,” he continues, eyeing the wound on your side and the spines flaring on Shouto’s tail. “And such a pretty thing.”

Shouto bristles, baring his teeth at the god. A growl rips from deep in his chest, but the dragon only looks at him, amused. “Can you save her?” Shouto snaps, staring his god in the eyes.

The dragon blinks at him, slow and amused. “I can.”

Tongue flicking out over his dry lips, Shouto asks the question he knows could have dire consequences, desperation outweighing fear. “What will it cost?” He should know better than to make demands of a god, but if it means saving you, he’d do anything.

“What will you give?” Ryujin asks instead.

Shouto looks at you, so still beneath him. So silent. Your chest isn’t moving anymore. Your heartbeat is slow and falling silent as well. “Everything,” he says, reaching up to stroke his knuckles across your cheek, willing you to open your eyes for him, to smile one more time. He swallows down the lump in his throat, glaring at the god. “I’ll give you everything.”

Ryujin laughs. He sneers at Shouto, baring his fangs. “Foolish boy,” the dragon calls him, snorting, breath hot as it fans across the merman’s face. “I’ll accept your deal.” The dragon lashes out suddenly, clawed fingers grasping Shouto’s tail, making the merman gasp. “And I’ll take what’s mine.”

Before Shouto can protest, he’s ripped under the water, dragged to the bottom as the serpent rips him out to sea. He tenses, struggling, but the spines jutting from his tail snap beneath the sea god’s grip, bouncing harmlessly off the dragon’s thick scales. The god’s claws dig into his flesh, ripping through tissue and bone, and Shouto cries out as his blood diffuses in the water. Iron coats his tongue, choking him, and water rushes down his throat as he forgets to hold his breath.

“So quick to leave the water. Never thinking of the consequences.” Ryujin’s voice rumbles through his head. A sharp claw presses just below Shouto’s waist, sinking deep into his flesh. “Submerge yourself in salt and be cast back to the seafoam you come from.”

The dragon rips his tail in two.

XXX

Your eyes snap open. Heart in your throat, you’re unable to move for several long seconds. Your head hurts, your thoughts hazy. The side of your ribs ache in a way they haven’t in months, and you lie there, trying to recall how you got here.

Waves lap at your bare toes, and you know you’re on the beach without having to look. Sand and salt stick to your skin as you shift, a shuddering breath escaping from your parted lips as you sit up and stare across the water.

Memories come back to you, ebbing and flowing like the tides, bits and pieces coming together as the sun begins to rise over the horizon. The pain of his spine burying itself in your side. The fear in his eyes. A warm breath fanning over your face; a thunderous voice calling you back. Calling you home.

You remember dying.

A low groan disrupts your train of thought, and your head snaps toward the sound. Your breath catches when you see him lying next to you, on his back in the sand. “Shouto,” you gasp, lurching towards him, throwing yourself on top of him. He grunts, eyes shooting open as your weight presses down on top of him. Like last time, he recoils, ready to strike, but then his bicolored eyes find yours and it’s like the breath is ripped from his lungs.

Shouto stares up at you in shameless wonder, lips parting, but no sound escaping his raw throat. Slowly, hesitantly, he lifts his hand from the ground, reaching for you. Fingertips brush against your cheek, his hand calloused and human. “You’re alive,” he murmurs, emotion welling in his eyes.

You wipe away salt as it trails across the curve of his cheek. “I’m alive,” you repeat. For yourself, and for him. You take his hand in yours, staring at the space his claws should be as you brush your fingertips across his knuckles. He shifts, and you realize there are legs beneath you, not a tail. “Shouto, how…” you trail off, trying again. “What did you--”

He hushes you, sitting up and pulling you onto his lap. His nose bumps against yours, and your knees press against his hips. “It’s okay,” he tells you, soft and sweet. “We’re okay, love.”

A pressure builds in your chest, swelling and threatening to burst. “I love you,” you tell him.

You draw him in to meet you, one hand fisted in his hair as the other wraps around his back, holding him to you. Shouto comes willingly, mouth meeting yours in a kiss that’s harsh and sweet all at once, all of your combined fear and desperation spilling out at once. His arms wrap around you, fingers blunt and warm as they slide down your back to slip beneath your shirt, wanting to feel your skin beneath his. Shouto’s mouth chases yours when you lean back, and he cradles you so carefully, like he’s afraid you might break.

He’s naked, and you’re both covered in sand and salt and blood, but neither of you care as he presses his forehead to yours, breathing you in.

It hits you, what he must have done--what he gave up for you--and your heart squeezes. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, stroking your fingers across his cheeks and nuzzling against him.

But Shouto shakes his head. His hands are firm on your hips, unwilling to let you go. “I’m not.” And he draws you to him; you let yourself drown.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #bnhabookclub #mha #bnha #bnha imagines

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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Hello, everyone! Can you believe this is the third time I've started the recap for this chapter? Between a dying computer and a mass edit during my monthly state of, "Oh my god get rid of everything we can't let people know that we wRITE!" this project is cursed. This is the version though, I can feel it. Be positive!

Now, where were we? It's been some months (RIP) since I last posted, so I wouldn't be surprised if everyone's forgotten what's going on in this insane novel. A quick recap before the recap then: new teams have formed, no one is happy about it, Sun and Velvet went off to a shady club run by The Crown and — shock shock, surprise surprise — got themselves into a heap of trouble. That's the long and the short of it. We have to wait a while to find out what happens to them though because this chapter is focused on Coco.

We learn that Professor Rumpole has sent Coco and her new team — Team ROSC — out into the desert to take care of the grimm around the city's borders. To say that Coco is disappointed in this assignment is an understatement. We learn that they've been at this for a week straight and have gone without showering or a change of clothes that entire time (no one packed a bag?), so for a second I was hugely sympathetic. You know this vine?

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I feel this vine in my soul. Give me hot water and hot coco or give me death. Besides, work is work and dangerous, physical work without a break or basic comforts is incredibly taxing. Toss in the extreme heat of a desert and I'd be pissed at everything too, no matter how important my work was. That's human.

Yet instead of humanizing Coco like this, it turns out she doesn't care at all about the hardship involved. It's fighting grimm that she's annoyed by. She thinks that "Searching for the person or persons kidnapping innocent people for some unknown but dark purpose was way more useful than fighting Grimm far from the city" and I'm just like, Coco, honey...

Do you know what your career path is?

IT'S TO KILL GRIMM.

Okay, there's admittedly a justification here, but it's a stupid one. Coco goes on to say that "This area was called the Wastelands for a reason." She's snarky about it, saying that it wastes “her time, her talent, and her patience," but the real takeaway is that it's, you know, a wasteland. Deserted of grimm and of people. What's the point of defending an area that doesn't need defending? A huntress' job might normally be to fight grimm, but when those grimm aren't around and kidnappers are, that's a whole new set of priorities.

The problem with all this is that the Wastelands is definitely not deserted and it's definitely not as far from the city as Coco would like to imply. In just a few paragraphs an alarm is going to trip and Coco will find six grimm roaming in a pack. Then she finds a person. Then that person says she needs to get back to see someone in the city within half an hour. So there are grimm, there are people about, and this area is apparently close enough to the border that you can get back to the city proper, on foot, and then get wherever it is you’re going in a bustling metropolis... all within half an hour. By that logic these grimm aren't out in the boonies, they're right outside everyone's door.

Yet Coco isn't convinced, saying that "Post Beacon [killing grimm] had been for a noble cause, but this just felt like … busywork." I cannot possibly emphasize enough that this is the job she signed up for. Not to be a detective specializing in missing people, not a war hero always on the front lines of a battle, but one of many huntsmen who perform the daily, routine, very necessary task of protecting the people from grimm. With "protecting" covering both immediate threats and preparatory work that ensures more threats don't come about — like taking care of grimm outside before they become a larger threat. You know what would have happened if Beacon had a daily chore of students killing grimm within a few miles radius of the school? There would have been far less grimm charging a mass of unprotected students when negativity unexpectedly skyrocketed.

And, as always, I am aware that Rumpole is the likely villain here. From a writing perspective, this is very much presented as her getting Coco out of the way so that she can go about her nefarious deeds in peace... but that doesn't erase the fact that the task itself is a sound one. Rumpole's motivations don't matter here, only Coco's annoyance that she... has to do her job?

I mean yeah, everyone complains about their job to one extent or another, but can you imagine if you stumbled across a firefighter complaining about all the kitchen fires they've had to put out lately? "It's so boring! There are much better things I could be spending my time and talent on. I mean, that inferno that took out a city block last year? Putting that out was noble. But routine fires? House fires? Giving lectures on how to prevent fires in the future? Ugh, I can't believe the department expects me to do this grunt work." Meanwhile, you're sneaking off, hoping that this firefighter is never called to your house, nursing mild worries about how much they're romanticizing the recent tragedy that took so many lives...

Complaints about the job turn into complaints about the teams, which makes far more sense for Coco's character. Anyone's, really. Despite my insistence that it's a good thing they're learning to fight with people other than their three besties, that was absolutely a sudden and rather traumatizing change, just given how attached the teams already are. I'm not at all surprised that Coco is struggling to cope.

She says she misses her friends, obviously, but also "surprisingly, Coco missed being in charge."

...That's supposed to be surprising? Coco, you love being in charge! How is this in any way a revelation?

Apparently it is though, stemming from how bad Reese is as their leader. As with so many things in RWBY, I find myself disagreeing with a perspective that's presented as a fact: "She liked to lead by group vote, which wasn’t leading at all." Yes... it is? We could go down a rabbit hole of literal definitions — to lead is to direct, to direct is to regulate, to regulate is to direct again — but ultimately our understanding of a word does not adhere to the dictionary alone. It's a knowledge built on experience and I would hope that everyone's experience with the term "leader" includes that person considering multiple perspectives before making a decision. A leader doesn't impose their view on a group without due consideration of their preferences and needs — that's a dictator — a leader guides the group based on feedback and their personal knowledge. If that feedback and knowledge results in a standstill, or if their knowledge outweighs preferences, they are the deciding vote because the people have previously said, "We trust your decisions" through the act of making them leader in the first place.

Asking for a group vote isn't avoiding leadership, it's an act of leadership. Reese decided that these situations warranted a majority rule. She further decided that whatever they settled on was indeed an appropriate course of action. Leadership skills are required to assess a situation and determine whether it's appropriate to vote on in the first place. If I announce to a group that we're voting on whether we go to the movies or the museum, I've done the work to determine that both of these choices are of roughly equal value and roughly equal availability. I haven't hit on any snags like, "The only movies playing are mindless blockbusters and I want this to be an educational outing" or "The museum is too far away. We'll never make it to dinner on time." Figuring out that a group can vote is its own kind of work. This avenue is particularly useful when the group is of roughly equal standing. With a few exceptions (like Ruby and Jaune) huntsmen classmates are all the same age, underwent the same training, and have had the same combat experiences. This isn't a case of one elite huntsmen lending their knowledge to an otherwise green party, it's a school randomly pointing at a somewhat outgoing individual during orientation and saying, "You. You're leader material, I guess, even though you've done little differently than the person standing beside you." Someone has to lead and Vacuo's switcheroo proves that anyone can be the leader if they're just put in that position. Coco claims a group vote is just "passing the responsibility off to your team" and yes! You want to share the responsibility because you are a team. They are a group of four equals working together with one person to guide them, they are not a boss with three subordinates. Why wouldn't Reese utilize the skills and ideas of those teammates? When making a decision, why wouldn't she see if everyone believes it's a good idea to do Thing A as opposed to Thing B? Unless Reese is outright ignoring her own ideas, beliefs, or gut feelings to cater to the others — which there's no reference of — this is good leadership. She's assisting her team in making decisions as a whole, rather than arbitrarily imposing her view on three others of similar skill and experience.

Yet Coco acts like because Reese doesn't go, "We're doing Thing A! End of discussion!" it's not leadership. Which, frankly, says a lot about how the RWBY-verse sees leadership as a whole.

I realize I'm rambling a great deal, so let me quickly provide a different media example. I'm currently immersed in Star Trek: Voyager and in season two, episode 14 "Alliances," Captain Janeway is faced with a difficult choice: align herself with a violent and so far untrustworthy species, or risk traveling through this quadrant of space without any allies. At first she's entirely against the idea of an alliance, going so far as to say that this isn't a democracy. She's the captain, dammit, she makes the decisions! But her first officer begs her to reconsider. Then the crew express disappointment — even disgust — that she won't consider this alternative. Then her chief of security, being a Vulcan, provides a persuasively logical argument for why an alliance is worth the risk... Long story short, Janeway finds herself in the minority and changes her decision accordingly. She attempts to garner an alliance and the fact that she was right — the species wasn't trustworthy and the alliance fails — is entirely beside the point. She realized that the majority voice matters. As far as we know, Reese is already practicing what Janeway learned.

ANYWAY the point is none of it matters because these characterizations are a mess. Coco also throws out that Reese "dressed like she was a twelve-year-old hanging out at the mall" and supposedly acts like one too. We're not given any examples of what that behavior looks like and, sorry, but I'm not personally inclined to judge someone based on their fashion sense. It would be great if this story actually engaged with some of the flaws the characters demonstrated, rather than just throwing them out to exist in this unacknowledged void.

Not that Coco's fashion-focused personality is really that important. Truly, the best thing about all this is how contradictory Coco's own thoughts are. She also listens to her teammates... except when she doesn't. She know when to go with their ideas and when to dismiss them for her own... except when she gets it totally wrong. As with so much in RWBY, this doesn't feel like the author giving Coco deliberate flaws that the story will grapple with down the line, it just comes across as a nonsense philosophy about leadership we're not meant to examine too closely. Coco gets to make references to the fact that her own, supposedly superior leadership is filled with holes, but heaven forbid she engage with that.

She ends all this with the thought that no matter what she might decide, she trusted her team to "do what she demanded of them” and is now extending that courtesy to Reese. This I'm inclined to praise Coco for. No matter what she might be thinking, it doesn't appear as if she's tried to undermine Reese (well, not yet. More on that at the chapter’s end), and she doesn’t appear to be refusing to listen to that leadership, even if she doesn't like how it comes about. As we're about to see, Coco has her team's best interests at heart, no matter the challenges they're facing.

Her thoughts turn back to her old team and we get... this.

Velvet was with a team that didn’t recognize her awesome capabilities. Fox was withdrawing, having lost his family for the second time. Yatsuhashi was going mad with worry about Velvet and his teammates, knowing that he couldn’t be there to protect them, and worrying he would accidentally hurt someone on his new team.

This is so unnecessarily dramatic. First, how does Coco even know any of this? Because it's been heavily implied that the old teams are barely in contact with one another. See: Velvet refusing to loop anyone in about the club and Coco stuck in the desert for a week. Second, why aren't they in contact, at least those who aren't on away missions? The entire group is acting as if changing teams means they're no longer allowed to be friends — family, as Coco puts it — when the relationship between Team RWBY and Team JNPR creates the opposite expectation right at the start of the series. Clearly, people from different teams can be close. Yatsu's worry that he might stumble using his semblance with new people is the only conflict that holds up here. Everything else has fairly straightforward solutions. Velvet needs to prove herself to new people. Yatsu needs to text Velvet if he's that worried about her. And Fox "having lost his family for a second time" is a pretty ridiculous exaggeration. You're attending the same school! Your family is still living down the hall if Vacuo has dorms like Beacon! In what world are these students unable to interact largely as they did before? They're acting as if the school has outright barred them from hanging out, rather than doing what will no doubt occur the moment they graduate: force them to work with different people. Just catch up with Fox over dinner!

Honestly, this chapter is pretty short, I'm just continually bewildered by this story.

To get back to the actual plot, something trips a sensor the group has set up and Coco responds to the situation in what I think is both a smart and empathetic manner. Previous experience has taught her that it's likely just a lizard, so she doesn't want to wake up her team for no reason. Disagreements aside, she cares enough to let them rest — "They’d probably appreciate the extra sleep." However, if it's a "rare case of something she couldn’t handle alone" she'd immediately call for help. Great plan! It's not often in this novel that I feel like I enjoy the characters, but this little moment actually had me liking Coco. Which, yes, I realize is a complicated claim. Characters should test the reader to a certain degree, mirroring all the personalities we see in real life, including biased, mean, or contradictory people. It's often a good thing to write a character that your reader is frustrated with. That can be the point! The problem with Myers' writing is that it isn't the point. Coco, as the former leader of our heroes in this tale, should be someone we enjoy spending time with and her flaws should be the basis for growth, or an acknowledgement that she is an imperfect, but well-rounded person. As it stands, flaws in this novel just sort of... exist? They bop around in the RWBY universe with almost no acknowledgement from the narrative or other characters, leaving the reader with little to nothing to take away from the text. Is Coco correct in her judgement? Is this a bias she needs to work on? Is she putting on a facade and her natural instinct to care for her team is the real Coco hidden underneath? Who knows! She’s just frustrating to read about most of the time and nothing comes of that.

Regardless, she heads out into the desert, using the night vision glasses Velvet made her.

Now see, this would have been the perfect thing to introduce before Velvet was fixing relay towers after the expert was injured. Remember how I said the novel didn't do enough to establish Velvet's own expertise? Not that a pair of goggles is really comparable to fixing a communications issue, but it still would have gone some way towards convincing me that Velvet is this super impressive tech gal, capable of handling any and all situations that might come her way.

But no, we get this impressive display of skill after Velvet's knowledge was needed in a pinch.

The glasses help Coco navigate the terrain, allowing her to both see in the dark and zoom in on things in the distance. This allows her to spot the six jackalopes that tripped the sensor, as well as the woman currently fighting them: Carmine, a villain from After the Fall that I know nothing about. Ah well. Note though what I said at the start, that Coco's dismissal of this assignment is based entirely in its supposed uselessness. Yet now here we have a pack of dangerous grimm and an enemy to content with.

Also, this is where Coco moves from kindly teammate to overconfident fool. She said she'd call for backup if she needed it... and she clearly needs it! From what I can gather, all of Team CFVY lost to Carmine last time they met up. But now she wants to risk fighting Carmine alone? Go get the others!

She doesn't, of course. Carmine doesn't notice Coco at first. She's talking about how she has to get back into the city. "He’s going to kill me if I’m not back to the Mirage in thirty."

As said, this also implies that Coco isn't nearly as far out as she initially suggested. If Carmine can feasibly finish this fight, cross the desert, navigate who knows how much of the city, and meet up with the mysterious "he" all in under half an hour, then Coco is patrolling pretty much right at the walls. AKA, the area that absolutely needs to be grimm free.

Luckily for those of us who are reading the books out of order, Myers gives a quick recap of Carmine's significance. Last book she had kidnapped Gus and "held off the combined might of Team CFVY in the desert” (oh hey, I was right), presumably escaping afterwards. Now here she is again, likely up to some new, nefarious deed.

Our of curiosity, I googled to see what she looks like and...

WHAT IS THAT OUTFIT?

Coco watches as she works to keep on top of the six grimm, debating whether she should help or walk away, but when Carmine is taken unawares, Coco acts without thinking, throwing herself into the fray.

Sometimes decisions were like that—your body already knew what to do while your brain was still processing the situation. Only in this case, Coco’s body wasn’t necessarily the clearest judge of character. Her brain would have said that Carmine didn’t deserve her help.

Now see, this is a scene I can get behind. The entire RWBY-verse is based around a type of superheroism: people with unnatural abilities, fantasy weapons, and extensive training devote themselves to protecting the people from various threats. Yet too often RWBY fails to convince me that these people are actually heroic, taking the standard flaws of a character and unknowingly exacerbating them to the point where I think, "Is this meant to be a commentary on the anti-hero? Or a critical look at these fantasy formulas? Because we've got the elements of that here, but no indication that the authors realize they're writing something other than that standard story." But this? This works for me. Coco, as a huntress, is so conditioned to help others that her body responds instinctively to someone being in danger, regardless of who that someone is. She outright admits that if she'd had the chance to think about it she would have decided against helping Carmine. The fact that she recognizes this and move anyway says a lot of good about her. Well done, Coco!

We see later that Carmine probably didn't need the help, but between the two of them the grimm really don't stand a chance. What's interesting though is how chummy the two are while defending themselves. Coco comments on Carmine's tendency to talk to grimm (like she does) and Carmine freely offers information about her movements, the fact that she lost her other sword, and that her partner, Bertilak, needs to "recharge a little" before getting back in the game. Carmine asks Coco if she'd like to team up with her instead (she does not) and the two have a number of flirty exchanges to top things off:

“I’ve been dreaming of a rematch with you,” Coco said.

“You’ve been dreaming about me? I’m flattered.” Carmine winked.

***

“Hot date with the Crown?” Coco asked.

“Don’t be jealous, darling.”

I bring all this up not as a criticism of the buddy-enemy dynamic (it's a favorite of mine), but simply because of something that happens next. Before we get to that though, I admit that I am on the fence about the flirting. Given that I haven't read After the Fall (assuming this characterization exists there), I know that Coco is a lesbian mostly via RWBY cultural osmosis, rather than through the text. This is one of the few (the only?) times that I've gotten a hint at her sexuality, yet it's associated with predatory behavior. Carmine, her enemy, is the one who turns an angry dream into a flattering one, the hot date with the bad guy into something to be jealous of. I'm honestly struggling to remember what, if anything, Coco has had to say about women in this book — this is what comes of such slow recapping and I acknowledge that this is entirely my fault — but I'm nevertheless discomforted by knowing Coco's canonical status, knowing RWBY's struggles with queer rep, and then reading a scene where the most overt representation thus far is the bad guy twisting Coco's words into something sexual.

I'm no purist. Give me a good enemies-to-lovers fic any day of the week, but that doesn't mean that kind of dynamic is the best to pull from in a franchise already facing heavy criticism for its queer rep.

Especially since the moment the grimm are gone Carmine turns her sai on Coco.

This is the "something that happens next" that I referenced above. It's weird to have them attacking one another after a whole scene of pretty genuine companionship. Coco doesn't help Carmine as a consequence of defending herself, she willingly gets involved. They tease one another. Carmine appears to answer her questions honestly. There's both implied and overt references to how well they work as a team. Then, suddenly, Carmine is outright trying to kill Coco, not just with her sai but by burying her alive. It's not the sort of banter that Ruby and Roman used to engage in, trading fake compliments and, in Roman's case before his death, legitimate feelings while attacking one another. Nor is Coco prepared for an attack the moment the grimm are gone, and she's not surprised by it. It’s just this sudden change that feels rather jarring.

Though it's far from the first time BTD has failed to convey the emotion of a scene. Here's another example rnow. As said, Carmine is attempting to bury Coco alive by moving the sand with her semblance. That's horrifying enough on its own, but remember that Coco is claustrophobic. Yet none of that panic shines through here. She comes across as indifferent throughout the attack, thinking back to summers when her brother tried to bury her while she sunbathed, amazed that she could ever consider this fun. You know who Coco sounds like in this scene?

At no point during this attack did I get the sense that Coco believes she’s in serious danger, let alone that she's struggling against a long-term phobia. The only time I even remembered that claustrophobia is meant to be a challenge for her is when she throws out the oh-so casual line, "One of her worst nightmares was being buried alive." Oh really? Because it doesn't seem like it! Coco is calm enough to remember that she used to be able to hold her breath for exactly three minutes and forty-two seconds. That doesn't feel like a character fighting against her worst nightmare.

So this scene isn't exactly compelling. Which is too bad because, as said, Coco as some other nice moments in this chapter.

However, during all this we do learn a little more about Carmine. Prior to getting trapped in the sand, Coco comments on how shockingly strong she is. "Carmine should have been at least a little bit worn down from fighting Grimm," but she's not, "She seemed nearly unstoppable now." Coco hits her full in the face, but she doesn't seem fazed. Earlier in the chapter there was that comment about how she previously took on Team CFVY alone and at the end of the battle Coco observes that Carmine "still seemed as fresh as she had at the beginning of the fight. How was she even doing that?" My basic reading comprehension skills tell me that this is setup for something, likely some change enacted by the Crown. Surely the text wouldn't put so much emphasis on Carmine's strength — have Coco questioning it to this extent, framing it as unnatural — unless we were going to get an answer, right?

But this is RWBY, so I'm not inclined to count my chickens before they hatch.

The rest of Coco's team arrives and it's then that she decides to pull the super dangerous stunt to free herself. Yeah, yeah, I get that she's suffocating and needs to do something now, can't wait to be dug out I suppose, but the timing is pretty ridiculous. The cavalry has arrived, yay! Time to blow myself up.

Seriously. She blows herself up. Using her own semblance, Coco focuses on one of her gravity dust bullets and detonates it, causing all the others in her arsenal to detonate too. It gets her out of the hole and "knocked her Aura down to a dangerously low level."

So... let’s see. Coco can literally detonate a bunch of explosives on her person, after suffocating under stand, after fighting Carmine, after fighting grimm, after a week long mission, and her aura doesn't break... but Yang's does from a single Neo slash?

Okay, RWBY.

Reese and Olive try to attack Carmine together, but end up eliminating one another's attacks. I like that a team actually has some realistic difficulties for once. Coco, however, is internally an asshole, calling them "idiots" and saying that they need to learn to coordinate their attacks. Thing is, she apparently hasn't done anything over the last week to help with that. She's been too busy complaining about Reese's clothes.

Carmine runs off as more grimm show up, drawn by Coco's non-existent panic. To her credit she does thank the others for saving her... but then immediately tries to downplay that. “It wasn’t a fair fight,” Coco spat when Reese (correctly) points out that she's the one who was ambushed. She also starts giving orders and when Reese (again, correctly!) goes to point out that she's the leader, Coco talks over her, saying they can't waste any more time out here because she has reason to believe that Shade has been compromised. She needs them only because she's out of bullets and low on aura, but they definitely need her because "let’s face it, I’m the best strategist around for miles."

Coco's a strategist?

And why does she sound like a villain trying to convince the heroes to work with her? She’s already part of the team!

Putting all that aside for the moment, we're back to this prideful characterization. I liked the well-rounded Coco from a few pages ago who balanced caring for her team with the likelihood of needing backup. Now she's flinching from the idea that she'd ever need help (hello, Sun characterization too) and snatching Reese's role the moment she's given the chance. So much for respecting her position. If the book wants me to believe that Reese is unfit to be leader and this is a golden opportunity for Coco to right a wrong... how about we actually show Reese being a bad leader?

Regardless, yay working together? The chapter ends with them presumably taking out the grimm before heading back to Shade, along with an important revelation. Prior to leaving, Carmine asked Coco why Yatsuhashi and Fox weren't rushing to her aid. It's only now that Coco realizes she didn't mention Velvet. Why? Perhaps because Carmine already knows where Velvet is, which obviously doesn't imply anything good.

And that's the end of Chapter Ten! Can you tell I never know how to finish these recaps? Describing cliffhangers doesn't have quite the same punch as, you know, actual cliffhangers. You all just have to suffer through my mediocre endings with me.

But would you look at that! Turns out the third attempt at writing this was the charm! :D

See you for Chapter Eleven! 💜

#rwby #BTD #Before the Dawn #BTD Recaps #mymetas

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shootwinterfest · 3 years

Text

‘Tis The Season

‘Tis The Season by @asleepinawell

CHECK OUT THE ART COLLABORATION!!

Companion art by @maarikaaaa

Shaw slouched in the driver's seat and sighed loudly. "What's taking her so long?"

"You seem awfully worried," Reese said from the passenger's seat.

"I'm not worried. Root can handle babysitting a number by herself."

"Of course."

Long seconds ticked by as they waited. Shaw looked around the interior of the underground parking garage they were waiting in, hoping for something to distract herself with, but nothing stirred. She watched suspiciously as Reese fiddled with the dial on the car stereo. The reception here was shitty, but she could still make out the opening notes of Jingle Bells on the station Reese stopped on.

"No."

"’Tis the season, Shaw."

"I can hurt you."

"That's how you get on Santa's naughty list."

In the back seat, Bear whined.

"See? Bear hates it. Change the station."

"It's Christmas Eve."

"Who cares?"

She reached out to change the station, but Reese held his hand over the stereo to stop her. She thought about breaking one of his fingers, but then she'd have to listen to him complain about that while they waited. Without meaning to, she glanced down at the little clock just below where Reese's hand was. Eight twenty-three. Root had said to pick her up at eight.

"You how what? Fine. Put on whatever you want. I'm going to go find Root and drag her down all forty floors of this damn building."

"So you are worried about her then."

"No."

Shaw climbed out of the car and then stuck her head back in so she could address the remaining occupants.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, so just keep him out of trouble while I'm gone."

"I'll keep an eye on him," Reese promised, reaching into the backseat to pat Bear on the head.

"I was talking to Bear." Shaw shut the door to cut off Reese's protest and turned to go.

She wasn't worried about Root. Not yet anyway. It was a simple number: keep an eye on some business CEO lady at her office holiday party. The Machine had been vague about the details, but that was nothing new. Maybe Root was trying to make Shaw come look for her. If that proved to be the case, she'd have to deal with both Root and Reese making snide remarks about her worrying the whole drive back.

She jabbed violently at the elevator button and glared at the doors until the elevator car arrived.

___________________

Root sulked in silence. She wasn't mad about Ricky from the marketing department who'd kept coming on to her half the night (he was currently unconscious and folded up in a closet full of cleaning supplies down the hall), nor was she mad that Judy from customer support had spilled fruit punch on her amazing new Christmas sweater (the punch had only gotten on the sleeve fortunately, which meant the small taser she'd hidden in the enormous stuffed reindeer head that was mounted on the front of the sweater hadn't gotten wet). She wasn't even mad about the armed men who had invaded the holiday party and made all of them sit on the floor in the middle of the conference room.

No, she was mad because she wasn't allowed to go and do horrible and unpleasant things to the party crashers because someone was worried one of the hostages might get hurt in the process. The Machine wasn't letting her have any fun today.

"Do you think they're going to kill us?" the terrified man next to her asked.

"Probably," Root said, distracted by one of their captors who was doing something vaguely interesting with the computer in the next room. She craned her neck to try and see across the hall better.

The man next to her wailed in panic and Root sighed.

"He'd probably be better off unconscious," she said quietly, hoping the Machine would take pity on her and let her tase him. But no, apparently tasing terrified civilians was not allowed. Not even for Christmas.

She ignored the Machine's suggestion that she try to calm the man down and instead inched away from him to try and get a better look at what was going on across the hall. Just what were these guys after here?

___________________

Shaw had imagined a lot of possible outcomes from her trip to rescue Root--though mostly she'd imagined Root 'apologizing' to her in an empty office while Reese had to wait and freeze to death in the car--but she definitely hadn't imagined that she'd find herself crawling on her stomach through an air vent shaft above the head of a heavily armed man.

Her side trip had started with the elevator coming to an abrupt halt between the twenty-eighth and twenty-ninth floors. She'd been annoyed, but not concerned. Until the gunfire had started. Gunfire that definitely didn't sound like the small pistol she knew Root had on her. She'd brightened: maybe this wasn't a wasted trip after all.

The problem of being stuck in an immobile elevator had remained though and she'd been forced to improvise. In this case, improvising had meant climbing out a hatch onto the top of the elevator and prying off the cover of a vent on the wall slightly above her. Her heavy winter coat had been too large to fit in the vent, so she'd left it behind. Also left behind had been the horrible, ugly Christmas sweater she'd had on under it (the only thing that had made it tolerable was Reese had to wear one as well since he'd also lost a bet to Root). It was a shame that the sweater would probably never be recovered from the depths of the elevator shaft which she had gleefully flung it down, but surely Root couldn't blame her for losing it under the circumstances.

The black tank top she'd had on under all that wouldn't keep her warm outside, but it wouldn't get snagged in an air duct either. And it looked much better on her than the sweater had.

And then, after crawling through the metal vent for what felt like a million years, she'd finally seen a grate in the side of it that looked down into a room below. Which was where she saw the man with all the guns.

She couldn't hear everything he said over his little radio communicator, but she did pick up enough to get the general impression that there were multiple armed men here and some of them had been sent to sweep the floors above and below where the main group was. Which of course meant the main group was on the same floor as Root's stupid party because of course it was. The building was supposed to be empty other than for the party, she learned as she listened, and with the power to the elevators cut off no one could get up to the thirtieth floor (where the party was) without taking the stairs.

What she didn't get out of it was what the group was after, though for the moment that didn't matter too much.

She waited until the man walked past her position just a bit and then knocked the grate out with one hard kick and sprang out of the vent like a panther leaping on its prey. The man let out a very unprofessional shriek when she landed on him, and she shut him up by choking him unconscious with the strap from his gun. Her gun now.

The radio communicator, which had fallen on the ground when she'd pounced, crackled to life.

"What's going on down there? I'm sending backup."

Shaw ignored the radio in favor of looting the unconscious man for weaponry. There was a very nice combat knife strapped to his ankle that she inspected with satisfaction.

"Guess I made Santa's nice list after all," she said to herself as she tucked the knife away.

Her eyes fell on the bag the man had been carrying. Now what would an armed thug be carrying around in a bag with him? She unzipped it.

"Well, Merry Christmas to me."

Other than the disturbing amount of C4 in the bag, there was also a spare earpiece communication device of some sort that wouldn't do her much good on its own. Or wouldn't if she didn't have the world's most powerful AI on her side who was hopefully paying attention.

"Can you call Reese on this thing?" she asked as she put the earpiece in. She'd call Root next, but she wanted Reese to get his ass in gear and give her some backup first.

There was some static on the line and then the sound of a phone ringing.

___________________

"It suits you very well," Reese said as he adjusted the headband on Bear. It had been hard to get the red puffball to stay on Bear's nose, but the fake antlers had fit him perfectly and he looked very handsome in his festive cape. And more importantly, Shaw would hate it.

Up in the front seat, the radio blared Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and drowned out the sound of a cell phone vibrating in the cup holder.

___________________

"What the fuck is he doing? Fine. Whatever. Put me through to Root."

The sound of footsteps on the stairs drew Shaw's attention. At least two, probably three, and somehow she doubted they'd come down to invite her to the party.

"Hold that thought for one second," she told the Machine. "Gotta go serve some holiday punch."

___________________

Root was suffering horribly. She'd finally managed to get herself into a good position to watch the man at the computer across the hall, and she could now clearly see that he was trying to hack into the system here, undoubtedly to gain access to some of the company accounts or something equally boring and unoriginal.

The problem she was having though was that he was terrible at his job and she had to sit there quietly and watch him fumble about like he'd never broken into the servers of a security technology company before. Pathetic. It was all she could do to stop herself from going over there and ripping the keyboard away from him and doing it herself.

She was weighing the pros and cons of doing just that when the leader of the group walked by having a frantic conversation with one of the other men. The fact they were speaking in German would have been an issue if the Machine hadn't helpfully translated it all for her.

Apparently they'd lost contact with the three men they'd sent to look into a disturbance on the floor below and they needed to start the elevators again so their backup on the third floor could reach them.

A disturbance. Root smiled. She knew exactly what sort of disturbance could take down three armed men with no effort.

With perfect timing, a voice that wasn't the Machine's whispered in Root's ear. "Root? You there?"

Root moved a little further away from the others and lowered her voice. "Hey, sweetie. I hear you're having fun."

"What the hell is going on up there?"

"Oh, the usual. They're just after money. But Shaw, the hacker they brought with them is terrible. You wouldn't believe what he's--"

"Root. Focus. What's your situation like there?"

"There's only a few men left here besides the leader but they're going to restart the elevators to bring up more people from the third floor."

"The elevators, huh?" There was some rustling over the line. "Say, Root, can the Machine confirm that there's no one else in the building below us other than the bad guys?"

"She says there isn't. Why? What're you going to do?"

"You'll see. Or hear."

And then Shaw was gone leaving Root still stuck in a room full of useless hostages and idiotic thieves. Why did Shaw get to have all the fun?

"This whole sitting here doing nothing thing isn't really working for me," she told the Machine, "so unless you have a bet--"

A deafening boom roared through the room and the entire building shook. Overhead the emergency sprinklers switched on, drenching the already panicked hostages. The man in charge of the thieves and one of his men were yelling at each other in German again and waving their guns around.

They were, the Machine informed her, going to take the hostages up to the top floor and leave the hacker and one or two guards behind here to finish the job.

"Sounds like it's my turn to have some fun then."

And finally the Machine agreed with her.

___________________

In the five minutes between hearing footsteps on the stairs and calling Root, Shaw had incapacitated all three men who'd come to find her. One of the men now had a broken arm, another a broken nose and three less teeth, and the last one had a few minor stab wounds he'd most likely survive.

Shaw had an exciting array of cuts and bruises, and a bullet graze on one arm that wasn't serious but did bleed an annoying amount. But more importantly she had a captive audience (literally) to watch her strap the C4 she'd found to an office chair. She'd gagged all the men when she'd tied them up of course, but she could see the sheer terror in their eyes at the sight of all the plastic explosives in her hands.

It took a lot of effort to pry apart the doors to the elevator shaft and brace them open with a metal pipe. Way down below she could see an elevator car descending to pick up the backup that Root had managed. Just in time.

There were probably other ways to stop the elevator, but Shaw had been shot, punched, and skinned both her elbows in the vents. Also she'd ripped her second most favorite tank top. There would be no mercy today. Especially not for the Christmas sweater that was undoubtedly still in the elevator shaft somewhere.

"You can't do that!" One of her prisoners had somehow spit out his gag. "You'll bring the whole building down with us in it!"

Shaw grinned at him as she wheeled the chair of C4 over to the elevator and held it balancing on the edge.

"Yippee ki yay, motherfucker," she said with a wink. And then she let go of the chair.

___________________

"In here, Shaw," Root called without turning around.

"Yeah, you left a trail of unconscious bodies leading right to you," said Shaw from behind her. "How'd the one guy end up hanging from the ceiling fan anyway? And what are you doing on there?"

Root didn't look away from the computer screen. "They were trying to hack in, but Leeroy here is very bad at his job." She gestured at the hacker tied to the chair next to her. "I'm giving him a free demonstration on how to do his job. He should be thanking me." Which he might have been able to do if he hadn't passed out in terror when she'd threatened him with her taser earlier. It wasn't her fault that he was missing out. "This server was cut off from any external network before, but I've given the Machine access now. Might come in handy. You never know."

"Uh-huh, and what happened to all the hostages?"

Root finally looked away from the screen and forgot what she'd been going to say when she caught sight of Shaw. The blood, the sweat, the ripped tank top, messy hair, and bare arms. This was definitely what she'd asked Santa for. Her glasses were in serious danger of fogging up.

"Root? The hostages?"

"Hmm? Oh, them. I locked them out on the roof. They were loud." And then at Shaw's disbelieving look she added, "Well, I did deal with all the bad guys first so it's not like they're really in danger and the Machine has helicopters en route to come rescue them before they freeze to death." It wasn't like she'd left them out there without their coats or anything. She wasn't heartless!

"So are we done here then? Because I think the NYPD are probably going to be crawling all over here looking for whoever blew out all the windows on the ten lowest floors of the building."

"The Machine is taking care of that as well. We'll be gone before they get here." But Shaw was probably right and they should leave. She got up and straightened out her clothes, which drew her attention to the fact that Shaw did not have on the sweater she'd agreed to wear tonight. "What happened to your sweater, Shaw?"

"Tragic accident. Couldn't be avoided. Next time don't make me wait twenty minutes in the car with Reese and maybe the sweater will survive."

"We'll see about that." She had extras back in their apartment.

They had to take the stairs back down through the ruined building since the elevators were...no longer in service and Root spent the long walk down enjoying the view of Shaw's back and arms. Sure this hadn't been the smoothest number they'd ever handled, but the important thing was they'd both had fun.

And maybe, she thought as she watched Shaw pause on a stair landing and use her shirt tail to wipe some sweat off her face, they had just enough time for a little more fun. Making out in a stairwell hadn't been where she'd expected her day to end up, but the Machine had chosen her for her ability to adapt and improvise so she gave it her all. And while the remnants of the flames from the earlier explosion still flickering around them weren't really the same as a yule log in the hearth, it still felt very seasonal.

Even the stuffed reindeer head on her shirt that kept jabbing Shaw in the stomach when they kissed couldn't ruin the moment.

___________________

"What happened to your sweater?" Reese asked right as Shaw asked, "What the hell happened to my dog?"

To make matters worse, Root was already taking pictures of Bear with her phone which meant the humiliating reindeer cosplay Reese had forced on Bear was being immortalized. Shaw resolved to steal Root's phone later and delete the evidence.

"I got a text I'm assuming was from the Machine that told me not to worry about the rather large explosion in the building I'm parked under," Reese said. "Why do I always miss all the fun?"

"That's what you get for making me listen to shitty music," Shaw said as she opened the door to let Bear back into the car. "Also, you're too tall to crawl through air ducts. Let's get out of here before someone shows up asking questions."

She figured she had a few more hours before all the excitement from the day wore off and she started feeling all the bruises she'd gotten, and she planned to make good use of that time. Getting Root out of the goddamn reindeer sweater was definitely a top priority for multiple reasons.

"Didn't expect Christmas Eve to end with a bang," Reese said as they drove away.

Root piped up from the backseat. "Actually the banging hasn't start--"

Shaw smacked the radio button on and some horribly cheerful song about snow drowned Root out.

#root x shaw #person of interest #shoot winterfest #sameen shaw #root #THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH ASLEEPINAWELL AND MAARIKA #shoot #happy holidays

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wizardysseus · 3 years

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i was thinking about once upon a time (abc) in bed this morning so i decided to write this list

subject to change, since awhile ago i was in the middle of season 6 when they took it off netflix and i never quite got around to picking it back up. i’m gonna finish if it kills me i promise

top 5 things about once upon a time

5. anna frozen

when ouat introduced frozen characters, most fans decided the show had jumped the shark. they were not wrong. however, it was this very thing that allowed the show to be fun again! after an excruciatingly bad season 3 (we will get to that), bringing on anna and elsa literally transported directly from their own unaltered story in cheap ass versions of their unaltered movie costumes allowed the show to let loose and do... basically whatever it wanted. this became the hallmark of the show for those who stuck with it: absolutely not making sense at all, but being fun about it. post-season-three ouat becomes a totally different soap opera from season one, but by god you are never bored.*

personally, the flashback episode where anna annoys rumpelstiltskin and gets the better of him and he’s so fucking mad about it is like top 10 episodes**

4. 2x16 “the miller’s daughter”

this episode is just another personal favorite. it exemplifies what this show was really good at when it was good, and also where everything went wrong. i think cora is a great example of a good ouat villain, i think the twist on the rumpelstiltskin story is great, i think the dramatic beats really work.

...and in typical ouat fashion, cora immediately dies and two more villains we don’t care about at all are introduced. (sonequa forgive me you know i’m in love with you but tamara was nothing. it’s not your fault.) yes we get that great scene of snow aggressively doing archery practice while listening to “bad reputation” but was it worth killing off a compelling villain just as you’d dug into her story?

3. the commitment to regina’s redemption

and lana parrilla in general. i mean i’m gay and she’s hot but the worse the show got, the more acting lana gave it. and this is just speculation, but i think lana is more comfortable with drama than with camp? because regina becomes a much more interesting character as someone conflicted and on the path to redemption than as a villain. and by god, they were gonna redeem regina.

if only she had been gay we really could have had it all.

2. rumpelstiltskin

the sweet spot with rumpelstiltskin for me was seasons one and two when he was unabashedly bastard, there was an attempt to make him sympathetic but nobody except belle actually liked him, you weren’t quite sure how much he knew, he was pulling all the strings, and he was just really fucking weird. it will surprise no one who follows this blog to hear that that is my type of wizard.

1. season one

it’s a good season. it’s a good season. there are some bad things about it, but it was extremely watchable. it was doing fairy tales with occasional disney nods in a (mostly) cohesive fashion. the lore and the magic hadn’t sprawled out of control yet. it had the strongest relationship, imo, between emma and henry, and emma and snow. as for iconic episodes, most of the greats are here, plus sebastian stan as the mad hatter and giancarlo esposito as a series regular. the crowning moment for me is the scene at the end of skin deep, when regina confronts gold in the town jail and he reveals that he remembers his real name (after beating the shit out of belle’s dad with his cane obviously). god. that is some good television.

worst 5 things about once upon a time

5. the adoption politics but everyone knows this one.

4. WASTING the talent

you had the love of my life sonequa martin-green and gave her nothing. you somehow scored oded fehr as jafar and gave him nothing. you had giancarlo esposito and regina literally forgot he existed. i will kill you

3. rumpelstiltskin.

it’s no secret that robert carlyle was acting circles around most of the cast; my opinion is that the showrunners felt that if they committed to either his redemption or his villainy, they would never find someone else with the talent to fill his shoes as bastard wizard. so they flip-flopped on him every half-season, which ruins his story longterm, slowly kills the light in robert’s eyes, and gets reallllllly old. it’s also no secret that my favorite rumpelstiltskin is bastard wizard, but they screwed over belle BIG time in the process and for that i will never forgive them.

also like. the rumpelstiltskin fairy tale is antisemitic to begin with and they did not minimize that by comparing him to a lizard and naming his storybrooke counterpart mr gold. they just. did that.

2. THE FUCKING NEVERLAND ARC GOD IN CHRIIIIIIIIIIIST THAT HALF-SEASON IS EXCRUCIATING

1. captain hook

*it’s my opinion that if you are bored, you’re watching a hook-centric episode. every time i dropped the show and forgot about it for months at a time, it was because i had been in the middle of an episode about hook and just could not get through it. how do i describe all the things i don’t like about what killian hook jones did to the show? with subpoints!

1a. the episode where gold gives him back his hand and he never changes.

**this is actually the same episode i mentioned about anna and, like i said, it’s one of my favorites and not at all boring. look, i’m not pretending this list isn’t subjective as hell.

remember when hook blackmailed mr gold into magically reattaching his hand, which gold has been keeping in a jar, because hook has a date with emma and wants it to go well? but also, gold tells him that if he reattaches his hand with dark magic, it will turn him evil? and then hook spends the episode doing evil things, only for mr gold to tell him “i was just messing with you! the hand was not evil, you gave yourself permission to be evil ;)”

yeah, that’s basically hook’s mo.

1b. episode where emma tells him his brother is lying to him and he learns the exact wrong lesson from this and never changes.

so emma goes to the underworld to get hook back after he dies (while being evil and doing villainous things). they find his brother down there, too, and emma senses that he has a dark secret (because he does) and is lying to them (because he is). but hook always idolized his older brother, so he won't believe her. when emma confronts the brother directly, hook interrupts to rant to her about how he knows what this is ~really all about.

actual dialogue:

HOOK: i don't need proof to know what's really going on here. emma, when are you gonna admit that this isn't really about my brother? EMMA: what else would you think it was about? HOOK: us. you think if you can prove that liam is a villain, then i’ll somehow feel like i was less of one.

who... would EVER come to that conclusion. and why is the lesson he learns at the end “perhaps i do deserve saving after all” (another direct quote), and not “NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU, BECAUSE EMMA WAS LITERALLY RIGHT ABOUT YOUR BROTHER LYING TO EVERYONE”????

1c. the emma dark one arc, where hook never changes.

this would be the arc that leads up to the above underworld arc, and it is deeply dumb, entertaining, and hard to explain. suffice it to say, during this whole arc, killian (along with emma) has all the powers and ~~~Darkness~~~ of the dark one (formerly rumpelstiltskin). unlike emma, he is not aware of this for most of the season. the moment he finally finds out, he turns on emma and goes through with all the revenge plans he’s apparently been holding onto since season two.

it’s supposed to be sympathetic, because emma made this choice for him to be a dark one, which is clearly awful, when he didn’t want it. so i get that. but on the other hand, it is..... boring. because (a) it's nothing we haven't seen him try to do and fail at before, his motivations really aren't that complex. and more importantly, (b) he was the dark one the whole time! the only thing that changed, that made him act evil, was finding out about it. at that point, it's not the ~~~Darkness~~~ making you do evil things. it’s just you. because you’re a dick.

how is this arc resolved? well, he dies. after the underworld arc (which i very much enjoyed tbf), a sizable part of robin hood’s death episode is devoted to people telling emma to slow down and grieve for killian, since at least two arcs have revolved around her inability to let hook go when he is literally dying or dead. (it’s been said a million times but being his girlfriend really sucked the personality out of emma and i miss her.) and in the end he just... comes back anyway. no explanation given; he says it must be a reward from zeus for killing hades... while he and emma make out literally in front of the coffin of robin hood... who actually died fighting hades. killian died half a season before. while he was evil. and emma reverts to tearful girlfriend.

it’s insulting. it’s grating. and it is a Killian Hook Jones Guarantee that his episodes will involve some measure of this.

like, is it more or less the same shtick that the writers kept giving rumpelstiltskin, too? backsliding and screwing over his love interest who gets less and less say in the matter? yes. definitely. the crucial difference is that i, personally, love rumpelstiltskin, while i find hook boring and not self-aware. but clearly i have had a lot of fun complaining about him! again, this is not an objective list.

conclusions

this show ran for 7 years. it got cancelled not because it deserved to, but because no one liked the soft reboot. it was on until 2018.

#thoughts #once upon a time #long post

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hopevalley · 3 years

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Season 8, Episode 5: What the Heart Wants

I was going to try to follow my scene-by-scene format for the entire season, but I’ve been getting a lot of migraines recently, presumably from staring at the computer too long, so I don’t want to spend all morning working on typing up the play-by-play for this episode.

Also, for what it’s worth I think this episode lends itself to plot discussion better than some of the previous episodes...at least in some sense.

And as another head’s up, it’s back to being critical for me. ;P

Storylines:

School Ends/Graduation/Parent-Teacher Conferences

The Dress Shop/Rachel

Postal Service, Ned

Bill’s Uniform, Nathan’s Vacation

Carson and Faith

Henry

Elizabeth and Lucas

Clara’s Dilemma

School Ends/Graduation/Parent-Teacher Conferences

This plot felt a little scattered, but for once it wasn’t the kind of storyline they foisted too much drama upon. After years of every single function possible being besieged by bullshittery, it’s a relief to see one go off without a real hitch.

The beginning scene with Robert hugging Elizabeth was sweet. I enjoyed the Canfields immensely and am intrigued by Angela’s role in the story long-term (PLEASE let her befriend Allie!). Nathan...eh, I have thoughts—but I’ll talk about that a bit soon. The actual ceremony was cute and kind of fun with the kids singing.

Neat Thing I Noticed:

Continuity? Cat Montgomery is still listed as Emily’s mother. ♥♥♥ I don’t know why but this made me really happy???

Complaint Corner:

Parent-teacher conferences should have been in this show from a much earlier point, and so should graduation have been. If there was a point to this celebration (the first year in a while anyone was old enough to graduate) that would have been a nice touch, too. It just managed to feel sliiiightly out of place.

I’ll forgive the “everyone in town goes to the graduation” thing because this is 1918...something like this would be a whole-town affair IMO. Invite everyone and have a nice get-together/party, probably on a Sunday afternoon after church but Hope Valley does whatever it wants, so...eh.

The threat of merging Hope Valley with other schools doesn’t fit in this scenario and it feels like they ripped it directly out of Tales from Avonlea which was almost rage-inducing to me.

Look, school mergers happened a lot in the early 1900s, especially around the WWI mark, but it wouldn’t be hitting a rural western town just yet. They don’t have any way of getting these kids to other towns for schooling. Where would the next closest school be? It would have to be pretty large and modern to merge multiple schools together.

*Adjusts nerd glasses* This felt forced and completely unnecessary. If anything this guy could be telling Elizabeth that they’re working on building a modern school somewhat close by, and could even have her involved in some decision-making regarding layout. Then they could bring in a “merger” storyline next season without it feeling out of place.

It mostly just felt dramatic for the hell of it, and it was boring, as was this man’s threat that Elizabeth had no right to teach a blind student. As if they’d accept Angela at a better school? As if her parents could afford top tier education for her? PLEASE.

Now it’s time for Nathan. The man chose to go fishing instead of to the parent-teacher conference? It makes him look like a tool. This isn’t about him or about Elizabeth; it’s about Allie. I understand why he didn’t want to go, but he should have done it anyway. It would have taken five minutes of his time.

His flippant attitude annoyed me because it went completely against his character as we know it, but Elizabeth’s lecturing was irritating, too. For a moment I thought we had Lorigail back on the show...

I think Elizabeth was well within her rights to warn Nathan about the effect his work has on his ward, but that inquiry took like a week AT MOST. Heck, let’s be generous and say TWO WEEKS. Allie’s concentration suffered for two weeks. There was no need to say more than, “Hey she worries about you and her work suffered for a bit during that time frame, just so you’re aware.”

I think what annoyed me about the math program thing is that...Elizabeth being a teacher would probably be VERY WELL AWARE that MOST of the parents to her students aren’t good enough at schooling to assist their kids with their homework. I dunno, it just feels out of place for her to tell Nathan that she wants to put Allie in an accelerated “program” and that Allie might need his help with her homework. It’s even more out of place when he admits he used to bribe his sister to do his work for him. Like. It’s very possible he’s not that good at math and isn’t capable of helping. (But maybe that will be a plot down the road...?)

“Or a tutor...” BITCH WHERE IS HE GONNA FIND A TUTOR IN THIS TOWN?! It’s super annoying to see dialogue like this that feels completely out of touch with the reality these people would be living in...lol. But also if she needs a tutor to stay caught up in an advanced program, she probably...shouldn’t be in the advanced program.

I don’t know how to feel about this whole thing here: “Nathan, you are Allie’s world. You’re the only father she’s ever known, and as she grows up you will always be the measure of the quality she’ll look for in a man as she chooses who to marry.”

On one hand, it does fit the situation (he seems to think everything is behind him but Elizabeth’s words are kind of a caution that 1) his actions still have an effect on Allie, and 2) every day he’s teaching her by example). On the other hand, it seems almost wildly inappropriate to bring up? At the same time, it’s probably not wrong that Allie will measure other men (friends, acquaintances, potential future romantic interests) against Nathan’s example.

I dunno. The conversation felt disjointed.

I think what they were going for was Nathan just feeling too awkward and weird about being with Elizabeth to want to be there for the conference, but...he interacted with her quite normally after the inquiry and stuff (even after she’d broken things off with him), so...it feels out of place. Like maybe this should have taken place right after the breakup and not weeks later?

Anyone else have thoughts on this and why it doesn’t feel quite right?

The Dress Shop/Rachel

This plot wasn’t what I would call a waste of time (rather, it’s worth having it mentioned now), but part of it was completely pointless and stupid. The whole Rachel getting lost thing was tacked into the promos to stir up drama, but nothing happened and there was nothing worrisome even going on. YAWN.

Rosemary’s desire to do something meaningful and different with her life is super interesting. I’m very curious to see what they decide to do with her if Dottie does sell the dress shop.

Also, Rosemary finding the book under Rachel’s bed was pretty funny.

But yeah, I didn’t really find much in this plotline to care deeply about. I guess I am pretty interested in knowing who might be purchasing the dress shop and/or if this decision is to bring someone else onto the show (a female love interest for the man who doesn’t win Elizabeth’s heart in the end, or even to bring back an old character*) or to take the dress shop out of the equation entirely... It’s also just as possible that Rosemary/Lee or Clara/Jesse end up buying it themselves down the line... Thoughts?

*I can’t begin to imagine who would be the best fit for this in this case, though. Who would have the money to buy her out?

Postal Service, Ned

Ned is just honestly so cute and fun. I love him. He’s really been doing well this season and seeing him wander around town delivering mail door to door was kind of nice.

Also, he’s one SMOOTH operator! Look at him, talking about putting a bell on the door so that he and Florence won’t be caught off-guard if they’re in the middle of...something.

Oh my, Ned. What might customers be...interrupting? :3

Continuity? Not only was the ulcer from last season brought up, but the horrid cabbage juice was, too. :’) It was a nice touch. And these two had just enough screentime to be kind of fun/interesting without also taking up too much time.

Bill’s Uniform, Nathan’s Vacation

Nathan got his vacation and Bill is in charge...again. This happens an awful lot. I wonder if it’ll actually impact the next few episodes or if it’s just here for the hell of it.

I love Bill a lot and I want to brag up his character in this episode a bit. I’ve complained many times in the past about him being written like a Grumpy Old Man Yelling at Clouds but this episode was super respectful. He got his scene with his uniform. Nobody interrupted it. There weren’t even any words. I quite liked it.

But it also felt kind of...pointless? I don’t want to judge it too harshly yet. Like the dress shop plotline, this could actually be going somewhere in the next couple of episodes.

Plus, unrelated to the uniform, it was nice to see Bill acting fatherly toward Clara. While it sort of came out of nowhere for the wedding, I appreciate the attempt at continuity there. Plus, so far this season, I’ve felt like Bill’s almost been a father-figure to Clara, Fiona, and even Nathan, so I’m enjoying that a lot.

Carson and Faith

CONTINUITY? The show finally remembered that not only is Carson actually a surgeon, but that was his original passion. It’s not that they completely forgot (S5 had him performing surgery on his sister-in-law, after all), but giving Carson a PASSION makes him a way more interesting character to me.

And also, finally, this feels like a REAL high-stakes plotline for him and for Faith.

I really liked Faith’s take on things. I know, I know, I’ve been rooting at them to break up, but the reason is mostly because they’re just so BORING together. I’d rather watch Henry twirl around in a chair for an hour than suffer through date scenes with these two.

It’s not that I’m against a doctor wife/husband team. I’m not. I just think Faith was a much more interesting and cool character on the show before Carson showed up and usurped her place (and completely overshadowed her for literal seasons). This plotline for Carson might actually be interesting. Like, a fellowship? For modern surgery? IN BALTIMORE?!

I hope this is Faith’s way of saying she wants a break and/or a break would be good for them. I can’t picture her leaving Hope Valley without any trained medical staff, let alone long enough for a fellowship...

But if this goes through, what will they do with it? Would they really write Carson off the show? To be perfectly honest with y’all, I’d be fine with that. At least it’s the type of write-off that makes a lot of good sense (unlike some of the other ones we got). I guess this is just another “wait and see” plotline which is uhh...the theme of this episode, huh? Anyone have thoughts on this?

Henry

Henry barely had any screentime, but I do want to say he is #relateable. The man is back at work for ten seconds and already exhausted. SAME.

Also, I appreciate that he’s ready to be back in the oil business. At what cost? I know people were worried they were gonna kill him off, and I really doubted it, but now I’m starting to wonder where they’re going with this exactly. Yet another wait and see moment LOL!

Elizabeth and Lucas

Some damn fine scenes for Lucas and Elizabeth in this episode. Mostly the scenic ones. :P

I enjoyed the agreement to a date. The horseback riding stuff was pretty cute.

Complaint corner? I don’t know. I have petty complaints. Even though the celebration for the kids was a town-wide event, and therefore Lucas was invited, it still felt out of place to see it brought up. Maybe it should have been mentioned as a town celebration from the start?

Then Lucas’s comment about not wanting to make things awkward for Nathan (who is actually a parent and there) makes a liiiittle more sense. I do think it was good of him to not go, even though he wanted to spend more time with Elizabeth, but it gave off a weird vibe, like, “Look at how good and wholesome Lucas is!” Is that intentional? I’m not...sure...?

For what it’s worth I already felt like Lucas was an honorable person in this regard. He loaned Nathan money, after all. Maybe he should have told Elizabeth he views Nathan as a friend and doesn’t want to hurt his feelings unnecessarily and/or if he was there he’d want to hog her all to himself or something cheesy. Hm.

My other complaints are:

Elizabeth running to the saloon would be WAY faster than all this getting set up at her house...?? Who thought this made sense?

Elizabeth’s dress looked like a nightie she bought at Kohls.

Too many damn candles.

Characters Do What Plot Dictates Even Though Plot Makes No Sense. More at 11:00!!

I have no further comments on the dress. It needed sleeves or something so it looked more like a dress and not like a nightgown/piece of lingerie.

I think the candles might have been on purpose to parallel Jack...but I hated it lol. Fire hazard? HAVEN’T ENOUGH THINGS IN TOWN BURNED DOWN/EXPLODED?!

I didn’t hate the date scene! But I never feel like Elizabeth has any meaningful conversations with Lucas and it’s starting to drive me batty.

Could we get uhhh something of substance please? It has to be surface-level nonsense on purpose. Right? RIGHT?

(And no, discussing a book for ten seconds on-screen is not “intelligent conversation” okay...?)

It’s really a shame because I’m starting to actually warm up to Lucas a little bit in this season but it feels like the conversations are just...kind of stilted and she’s not really into dating him—just agreeing to it because he’s the only option.

And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but...he deserves better than that.

Don’t get me wrong, by the way. If it’s part of the story and it’s revealed as such down the road, I’ll be fine with it...but I always worry they’ll just skip important relationship milestones and/or important conversations and expect us all to just accept it.

Kiiiiiind of looking forward to the rainy date scene in the next episode, though. I’m Team Nathan mostly but I’m keeping an open mind and I think I might actually enjoy it. Hopefully they’ll get some good scenes together that don’t feel like this one did.

Clara's Dilemma

Clara’s fears about running the salon without Fiona...are legit. LOL.

Also, this little bit was funny (between Mike and Jesse and Bill):

Anyway, if Clara was that worried about it, she should have just...told Fiona no? I hope it comes up down the road. Poor Molly??

I genuinely don’t know how I feel about Clara and Jesse’s involvement in this episode. I guess it was okay. I liked Clara’s scenes with Bill. I thought the idea of Clara and Jesse buying into the cafe was a nice one. Jesse having “invested” their money and lost it all, though... They did a similar plot with other people in what...Season 5 was it? Or was that the start of S6? He didn’t even say what he invested it in? But he admits the money is all gone?

I think that’s what was missing from that scene. “I invested it in X, hoping to make us more money, but it didn’t work out and we lost everything.”

I’m not going to criticize Jesse’s characterization, only because sometimes character "growth” doesn’t happen for the better of anyone involved. My biggest worry here is that it’ll be solved by the end of next episode....but I hope that’s not it.

Like, I think they did better with Frank and Abigail if we’re going to talk about a man who didn’t know how to live like he was in a committed relationship. It made more sense with Frank, too, being older and single most of his life. His bouts of selfishness felt realistic.

Jesse feels like he’s somehow getting worse and worse as a person as the show goes on. I’m kind of at a point where I hope he and Clara divorce, because he’s so damn selfish it’s embarrassing. He’s off having a beer while his wife works multiple jobs? And then he has the audacity to act like they should save money when he just blew all their savings?

I’m sure it’ll work out fine but I hope Clara puts herself in charge of the finances at the very least.

As to investing failures, I liked how they did that with Henry and Abigail. That was the kind of tension and worry that felt natural to me—like she trusted him with her money after he’d proven himself untrustworthy ten million times throughout the years, and he failed and had to uhh admit that.

Jesse straight up betrayed Clara. Which, if it’s dealt with in a satisfying way...I think can be a good plotline. I just worry about it actually being dealt with properly. That’s a huge stumbling block in a relationship. And why is he continually getting worse as a person? There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to it.

Gasp... it’s almost like it’s just plot because they feel like they have to give someone something every damn episode.

Which brings me to THE FINAL

COMPLAINT CORNER (The Big Boy™ Complaints)

The show has really struggled with finding its footing. I wish they’d take notes from better shows with ensemble casts (cough cough Road to Avonlea cough) without also ripping off their storylines (cough school merges cough).

My #1 complaint at this point in Season 8 is the SHEER AMOUNT OF THINGS GOING ON EVERY EPISODE.

I want continuity, so I want to see things happen naturally over a season, but my God do we not need to have mindless pointless crap in the episode. Rachel getting “lost” for ten seconds wasted literal MINUTES of screen time that would have been MUCH better allocated to basically anyone else in this episode.

And I don’t think it would bother me so much if it wasn’t also shoved into the promo like it was supposed to matter. It didn’t matter. Nobody cares. Why was it allowed to stay in the episode alongside stuff like Clara and Bill’s conversation?

Or Lucas and Carson’s?

I think they want to appease all the fans in every episode by giving them scenes of their favorites, but what did Henry sitting in his chair accomplish in this episode? Rachel getting lost? Jack not sleeping well/missing his mom? The school superintendent?

Did Bill trying on his uniform have to be in this episode? Did Jesse and Clara’s problems have to come fully to light right now?

When every episode is formatted like this, with 10 plotlines all interconnected slightly and going on at the same time, I feel like...nobody gets the spotlight they deserve when they deserve it.

I cANNOT believe I’m saying this, but this plotline for Carson, especially if it will end with him leaving the show for a while or permanently should get the focus it deserves. But it won’t if we get tiny snips of it here and there and then BOOM decision made because Reasons.

And again, I know I’ve said before that I want more continuity throughout the season, but... the best way to do that is to tighten up the plots. Have fewer of them per season and give more screentime to the ones you choose to pursue.

Anyway, I’m still enjoying the season, but I hope they keep some of this kind of stuff in mind for next season. They don’t need plotlines for everyone in every episode. They need the plotlines they choose to write to be worth their screentime.

Sorry this was sloppily written and all that. Hopefully it makes sense. Very curious to see y’alls thoughts. Feel free to make your own posts and @ me, or reblog this or comment!

#when calls the heart #long post #season 8 spoilers #season 8 shenanigans #analysis and meta discussion #character studies and information

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somedayonbroadway · 4 years

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It’s spooky season so... Coraline AU?

Ooooooh this is gonna be a fun one.

Coraline AU

Characters

Racetrack Higgins — Coraline Jones

Jack Kelly — Mel Jones

Katherine Plumber — Charlie Jones

Crutchie Morris — Wyborn Lovat

The Bowery Beauties — April and Miriam

Obadiah Weisel — Mr. B

Todd Kloppman — The Cat

The Spider — The Other Mother

JoJo De La Gurra, Specs, Henry — The Ghost Children

Medda Larkin — Mrs. Lovet

Albert DaSilva and Spot Conlon — Manhattan Friends

Okay, so…

Tyler “Racetrack” Higgins-Kelly is a curious eleven year old boy, drawn to odd and peculiar things. Growing up, the boy can often be found reading books on witchcraft and the unexplained, which is one of the main reasons he had such trouble making friends. No one wants to hear him talk about ghosts or alternate dimensions or witches. But Race loves it.

This all worries Jack, his half-brother and guardian who adopted him when he was five years old. See, Jack was never under the impression that his baby brother was a normal little boy who would be into superheroes and action figures, but he’d hoped Race would grow into being a little more extroverted and happy. Race has a lot of energy and likes to talk a lot which makes caseworker visits a bit hard on Jack who doesn’t want his baby brother talking so freely about somewhat violent and ridiculous things. But they get by.

Throughout elementary school, this odd little boy only manages to make two friends, Spot and Albert, who help him fight off bullies and such. He adores his friends and is just about destroyed when Jack and his fiancé Katherine sit him down to explain to him that they would soon be leaving Manhattan for Santa Fe, all the way across the country, for Jack’s new job as an animator.

Race is angry with his brother, claiming that he’s ruined his life by making this decision, not knowing that Jack has been dreaming of having this job for years. Katherine, a young writer who is working on her own novel, tries to sit him down and explain why this was happening, that Race would make new friends and maybe even find new places to explore. Race still resents both Jack and Katherine, Katherine who had just officially adopted him as she and Jack were engaged to be married.

Still, Race has no choice but to say goodbye to his friends and sit by while Jack forcibly packs away all of his things into boxes, trying desperately to cheer him up by telling him about the mansion they’ll be moving into, a house that had been divided into three separate apartments. He tries to hint at his baby brother that it might be haunted or peculiar, but Race is not interested in hearing this, not even as they’re driving away from their old apartment.

When they arrive at their new home and Katherine and Jack help their hired movers to arrange everything in their new apartment, Race is told by his brother, whom he’d been bothering by grumbling and complaining to him all the way, to go outside and explore, but to not wander too far. Race does as he’s told, still angry, but glad he at least has a chance to test out water witching.

The boy finds a dowsing rod and lets it lead him to a hidden well, scared half to death by a black cat who’d been following him since he’d stepped foot off of his porch and another odd boy, only a year older than him who informs a confused Race who can’t find the water his rod had led him too that if he stomps too hard, he’d fall into it.

The well Race had stumbled upon is said to be so deep that if fallen into, one could see the stars in the middle of the day. Race is immediately drawn to it. The odd boy, Charlie, offers to push him in, but Race just shoves him in the shoulder, explaining that he doesn’t like to be stalked by psycho nerds and their cats. Charlie tries to tell Race the cat doesn’t actually belong to him, but he does feed it every night and give it baths sometimes. The cat doesn’t like to get dirty or wet. Race calls Charlie’s cat a wusspuss.

This odd boy is very observant and has things of his own creation saddled all over him, most of them looking to be dangerous weapons, and, even if Race doesn’t necessarily like it when this kid runs his mouth, he can’t help but admit to himself that those gadgets are pretty cool. He does note that Charlie walks with a limp, and finds the boy has a metal leg. Charlie asks Race where he’s from, guessing LA or Chicago, based on Race’s mannerisms and clear uncomfort to the quiet that surrounded them. Race just shrugs it off and tells Charlie that he’s from Manhattan.

Charlie explained that he’s shocked that Race lives in the “The Lodge” which is what folks around the place call the old mansion. Charlie’s adoptive grandmother and caretaker, Miss Medda, made it clear that she doesn’t rent out the apartment to people with kids. Race thinks nothing of this and tries to move on, but after noting that Race was out water witching, Charlie inspects the dowsing rod the younger boy had chosen and instructs him to wear gloves next time, as the rod Race is holding is poison oak. It doesn’t take long for a rash to spread on Tyler’s hands.

Later, back at home, Tyler tries to tell Jack about his day, rambling on about how he’s almost fallen into a well and died, but stressed out with all the work from his new job, Jack brushed him off, asking him to unpack and entertain himself rather that go back outside now that it’s raining. Jack really doesn’t like mud. But, Katherine comes inside not too long after, holding a gift for Racer, a little doll with button eyes that looks just like him. Race is at first a bit creeped out, but then figures Charlie altered the doll to look just like him, on account of him wanting them to be friends even though Race finds Charlie slightly annoying.

Either way, he takes the doll with him through the house, even after telling his guardians that he’s much too old for dolls anyway.

A couple hours after that, Race begs his big brother to let him go outside once again but Jack refuses, telling him this apartment is filthy enough and he can continue unpacking more than the single box of snow globes that he’d unpacked when they’d first arrived or find a way to entertain himself because Jack is busy working and is brand new at his job and has a project due and doesn’t want to get fired before he’s survived a week. So Race goes to bother Katherine instead.

Katherine, has just gotten over a writer’s block and is on a spree. She is writing a graphic novel (that Jack is illustrating for her) and she really doesn’t need any distraction, but when Race walks in to ask if he can play outside, she brushes him off, asking what the boss said. When Race admits that Jack said, no she says no too and Race starts playing with the creaky door behind her, just to try and get a rise out of her.

See, since this whole thing started, Jack and Katherine both had been somewhat ignoring him, for a lack of better words. Both stressed out from artistic deadlines, they leave Race alone for the most part and Race has never really been good at being alone. He misses when Jack used to play with him and when Katherine used to read with them and make him laugh. He missed them and, as he is a small child, the only way he knows how to display these emotions is to get very frustrated and angry.

When Katherine suggests Race explore the house, as it’s about a hundred and fifty years old, Race does, knowing that no matter what he says, Jack and Katherine are still gonna have to do their work.

He takes his doll with him on his explorations where he finds boring paintings, boring windows and a disgusting shower. He accidentally hits a switch that turns off the electricity in the house and he hears Katherine screaming, as she’d been working on her novel on her desktop. The boy feels guilty but flicks the switch back and runs away, as though he’d never done any such thing.

Still he continues on, counting the windows as Katherine had instructed until he sets his doll down and turns to find it gone. When he finds it, it’s still in the same room, only it’s hiding behind an old painting that’s leaning against the wall. Upon moving the painting, Race sees a door encased behind horrible wallpaper and calls out to Jack to figure out where the tiny door leads. Though he tries to explain that he’s very busy, Jack eventually caves asking Race that, if he were to do this for him, he’d leave him alone and let him and Katherine get some actual work done. Race agrees.

In the kitchen, Jack finds a drawer full of forgotten keys and rummages around, trying to find whatever key it was that would unlock that door for his baby brother. He finds an odd looking key, one that’s top looks like a button. Jack’s not sure why, but he knows that must be the one that unlocks that small door. He unlocks it, only for Race to pull it open and find a brick wall. Disappointed, Race begins whining again only for Jack to tell him that they made a deal and to quiet down so that he can do some work because his deadline is in a couple of days and he has to finish this project.

Later that night, after Katherine cooks a dinner that Race doesn’t like, he pesters Jack about why Jack doesn’t cook anymore. Jack is a really good cook, and he used to cook for him all the time before they’d moved, even when he’d worked two jobs. But Jack tells Race to be grateful to Katherine who always sings him a sweet little song before giving him food. He promises Race that he’ll go shopping soon and get him something he likes. The boy just rolls his eyes and grumbles so Jack makes him take a few bites before sending him off to bed.

Race goes, taking his little look alike with him and snuggling it as he drifts off to sleep, as the little doll makes him feel a little less alone.

In the middle of the night, Racer is woken up by squeaks sounding from beneath him. He finds that there are four little mice running around his room. Rather than being scared of them, he follows them out into the hallway, down through the apartment, past Jack and Katherine’s room, into that little door.

When he opens the thing, he finds the brick wall gone. Instead, there’s a twisting, glowing blue tunnel. Race gapes at it, believing this to be some kind of dream. Still, he crawls through to the other side, rolling through a door at the end and finding himself in a lit up apartment that exactly mirrors his own. And something smells amazing.

Following his nose to the kitchen, Race finds Jack cooking in the kitchen. Only, it’s not Jack. The man looks just like his brother in every aspect but one.

He has black buttons where his eyes should be.

Race is stunned by this, but, upon asking where he was and why Jack was cooking in the middle of the night, the man responds that he is in fact Race’s big brother; The Other Jack. The Other Jack explains that everyone has another family, but doesn’t go into depth about it. He just smiles at Race and excitedly states that he’s been waiting for him and that he cooked this dinner to celebrate his arrival. He then asks Race to go get The Other Katherine, who is in her study.

In Katherine’s study, Race finds The Other Katherine playing the piano and singing, something she used to do for him when he’d first started to understand she’d be becoming a big part of his life. Race finds that she too has buttoned eyes too as she whirls around to pull him into her lap and helps him play the keys like they used to. Race is sad to end this moment, but does tell The Other Katherine that The Other Jack says it’s time to eat. Not even a little upset by this, The Other Katherine scoops the boy up and takes him back to the kitchen where The Other Jack has set up a beautiful meal of steak, potatoes, corn on the cob and rolls, complete with a literal gravy train and a milkshake chandelier. Afterwards, The Other Jack surprises Race with a cake that decorates itself right in front of him, a special “Welcome Home” message written across it. Race is a little hesitant, but can’t help but feel happy here, where he doesn’t feel so alone.

Noting his hesitation, The Other Jack suggests they play a game. Maybe, hide and seek in the rain. It’s only when Race mentions that it’s not raining that the sky opens up and rain pours down. The Other Jack and Katherine claim they love mud and want nothing more than for him to be happy. The Other Jack even states that mud is good for poison oak, something Race never mentioned he had. A bit nervous at this, Race suggests he should get back to the other Jack, his first big brother. When The Other Jack says that he can stay as long as he wants, Race states he’s tired and should get to bed.

Upon arriving in his backwards bedroom, Race finds that the picture he had on his dresser of Spot and Albert is moving and they’re talking to him. His bed is completely made up, unlike the cot he has at home as they haven’t gotten that far in the ways of unpacking. While talking to his button eyed friends in the photo, The Other Jack spreads mud over Race’s rashes gently and lovingly. Then, The Other Jack tucks him in and kisses him goodnight and he and The Other Katherine stay with him until he drifts off.

Waking back up in his own room, his poison oak completely gone, Race rushes to tell Jack what happened and Jack let’s him ramble on as he pours his brother a bowl of cereal, letting him eat before he tells Race about their crazy neighbors, telling Race he should meet them and tell them about his odd dreams, that the actresses downstairs might be curious about hearing his wild stories. Katherine, however, does joke with Race about having The Other Jack making her some kind of remedy to help her sleep through Jack’s snoring at night, but Jack sarcastically laughs and brushes her off and tells her that if the real Katherine wants her illustrations done she better get writing.

Race does go off to explore, going downstairs to meet two former actresses, Kaitlyn and Beth (named after the two actresses who play The Bowery Beauties in Newsies Live). Even though Jack has instinctively made fun of his neighbors already, calling the actresses old bats and the old man upstairs a drunk, Race gives into his curiosity and knocks on the door downstairs, finding that the two old actresses are nearly crazy. They claim to be somewhat psychic, though, and Race finds that interesting.

When Beth reads his tea leaves, she sees that he’s in terrible danger, even though Kaitlyn claims she must be reading it wrong.

Still, Race goes along like nothing is wrong, wandering back to his apartment and finding mail that doesn’t belong to his guardians sitting on the porch. He goes to return it, finding an eccentric old man that Race believes is a little creepy. The old man says his name is Weisel, but Race purposely gets it wrong, calling the man Weasel, instead, just to get a rise out of him. Weasel states that he is training mice to put on a circus. Realizing this man must be a little crazy, he goes to leave before the old man tells him that the mice have a message for him.

Don’t go through the little door.

Weasel shrugs it off, telling Race that the mice are a little bit crazy. But Race knows exactly what they’re talking about.

On his way back down to his door, Race is stopped by Charlie who is out slug hunting with his feral cat. Race asks if Charlie made that doll look like him to which Charlie replies that he found the doll that way. He also says that if his Grandma found out that he was near The Lodge that she’d kill him. Medda says this house is dangerous.

He then goes off to tell Race that Medda had a twin brother when she was little that disappeared and was never found. Medda claims that he was stolen.

Race gets annoyed with Charlie when Charlie rambles on and on and won’t listen to a word Race says about the Other World inside his house or The Other Jack. Even though he has fun with Charlie for a half an hour he still finds him a bit annoying, even if he is nearly as off as Race himself.

That night, despite all the warnings he’d gotten throughout the day, Race leaves some cheddar cheese out for the mice that lead him to the small door the night before. When he wakes up to hear them again, he excitedly follows them back through the door and finds The Other Jack readily waiting for him, lifting him up as he cooks, pressing a kiss to his head to thank him for the cheddar he brought them. Then he tells Race to go fetch The Other “Better” Katherine, letting him know that she’s out in the garden.

When Race finds The Other Katherine outside, he finds that she has made the garden look perfectly like a replica of Race’s own face. She explains that The Other Jack said he’d love it because he knows Racer like the back of his hand. Race can’t help but admire the gift before The Other Katherine takes him back to his Other Home and The Other Jack reveals that he’s made breakfast for dinner. They eat before explaining that Mr. Wiesel from upstairs invited Race and Charlie to see a mouse circus.

Race is annoyed that there’s another Charlie, but The Other Jack reveals that this Charlie can’t talk and is always smiling. That he fixed him. So Race goes with The Other Charlie to see the circus, marveling at the circus where they’re given popcorn and all the candy they can eat. Well, Race eats it. The Other Charlie just smiles and holds it all. After this, they head downstairs and Race is carried to bed by The Other Jack and his Other Family stays with him while he drifts off to sleep.

The next day, Race rushes to the door, just to see if it really is just a dream. But it’s locked. Later, as Jack places him in the car, explaining to him that Katherine has a meeting with an editor back in New York and that they need to go shopping for new school clothes, Jack lets Race ramble on about this Other World on their way to the airport to drop off Katherine. But when it comes to school shopping, Race immediately whines about the boring, colorless clothes Jack picking out for him.

He does ask for one thing. A newsboy cap that he finds at the store they’re at. Jack tells him he doesn’t need it, even though Race tries to explain that everyone else will be wearing the same clothes as him but no one else will be wearing that hat. Jack tells him to put it back. When Race comments that The Other Jack would buy them for him, Jack does his best to hide the hurt but he then shoots back that maybe The Other Jack should buy all of Racer’s clothes.

Race asks Jack why he locked the door to which Jack responds he thought Race might feel safer because he found rat droppings in that room. Jack doesn’t like these dreams of Race and is starting to think it might be dangerous to indulge them. But the boy insists they’re the most fun he’s had since they moved.

Those words hurt Jack even more. But he knows he can’t argue. He hasn’t been spending a lot of time with the kid.

When they get home, Jack reveals he needs to grab some groceries and asks Race to come with him, promising to let him pick out something he liked, but when Race gives him attitude, Jack just sighs and leaves him alone, telling him that he’d be back and that he loved Race. Race just lets him go.

When Jack’s gone, he immediately goes searching for the key to the little door, unlocking the thing and finding the glowing blue tunnel to be waiting for him. He knew it wasn’t just a dream.

Crawling through to the other side, Race finds a note waiting for him. He’s been invited down for an acrobatics show at the apartment of the two actresses and The Other Jack would be back later to cook him dinner. Race smiles at this and heads down to meet Charlie and see the show.

Before he can get there, however, he meets a cat, a cat that looks much too similar to the one the real Charlie has following him everywhere. Believing him to be The Other Cat, Race addresses him like he would any other cat, but when the thing starts speaking to him, he jumps and scrambles back, confused. The cat informs him that he’s not some Other. He’s just him. He tells Race that this is something that he and The Spider did sometimes. It was a game. When Race asks who The Spider is, the cat ignores him. He hints at the fact that he was once friends with The Spider, having found this world as a young man and finding it interesting until he’d made a mistake. Race doesn’t get to ask anymore questions before the cat who’d said his name was Todd Kloppman catches a mouse that turns out to be a rat.

Race, a bit nervous by all of this, still continues on to meet The Other Charlie.

The show is spectacular. Beth and Kaitlyn go from being their old selves to their younger selves in an instant and even bring Race in to be part of the show. He loves it.

Charlie silently walks Race home and Race is excited to see The Other Jack at the door. He doesn’t see the silent warning The Other Jack gives The Other Charlie when he sees the boy not smiling.

At the dinner table, The Other Jack and The Other Katherine tell Race that they have a surprise for him and push him a small gift wrapped box. The Other Jack explains that Race could stay forever if he’d like, but he’d have to do something first. Inside the box, Race finds. Two buttons and a needle.

The Other Jack wants to sew buttons into his eyes.

He explains that black is traditional, but Race could have any color he’d like. Suddenly, all of the warnings Race had been given rush to the front of his mind. He tells The Other Jack that he can’t see buttons in his eyes and then tries to laugh off the offer and go to bed, hoping he’d wake back up in his real home. But when he wakes up too soon, he’s still in The Other World.

He goes to try and get back to the little door but finds it locked. When he finds The Other Katherine, she’s mindlessly playing the piano and rambling about how The Other Jack is losing his strength and needs it back and that’s why she’s so tired. He rushes out to go find The Other Charlie, despite The Other Katherine’s insistence that it would do no good.

He runs out of the house and finds Todd lurking about. He walks with the cat into nothingness as he walks away from the house, while Todd explains to him that The Other Jack has alternative motives. He jokingly suggests that maybe The Other Jack lured him here because he was looking for something to eat.

They walk around the small world, ending up back at the house where Todd finds another rat and The Other Jack comes out to meet Race and offer him chocolate, seeming to notice his hesitation. He informs Race that even the toughest of spirits can be broken with love. But Race tells The Other Jack that he wants to get home to the real Jack.

As he continues to ask the buttoned eyed Jack to let him go home, The Other Jack gets angry and demands an apology. When he doesn’t get one, his true form begins to show.

As he grows angrier, he grows taller and thinner until he has a spider-like figure that Race is horrified by. The Other Jack, yells and drags Race towards a mirror, throwing him inside and telling him that he can come out when he’s learned to love him. Race is trapped.

Realizing that there’s no way out, the boy tries to lay down on the small bed inside this dark, windowless chamber. He’s terrified when he sees three ghosts curled up on the bed, all three having buttons for eyes. They ask Race if he’s next and Race doesn’t fully understand what they mean. He asks their names and they reveal they don’t remember them but they miss their real families. The ghost children explain that The Other Jack is a type of witch that can appear however it wants to to lure children to it because it feeds off of curiosity and the best source is the eyes of curious children. They explain that they were given a doll that had their likeness so it could spy on them. That The Spider is an entity that finds where a child is the most unhappy and lures it into this fantasy world to eat its eyes. The eyes then become a part of the world as the world is a part of The Spider, the entity that lives there.

They tell Race that their souls are trapped in this world because they don’t have their eyes but if they were able to find them, they’d be able to escape. They ask Race to find their eyes if he can, but to worry about escaping first and foremost lest he wanted to end up like them.

Only a few minutes later, gloved hands reach through the mirror and pull him out. It’s The Other Charlie, trying to rush him back through the door. The Other Jack hears them and Race tries to pull his silent friend with him but The Other Charlie shows Race that he’s only made of sand before he pushes the boy through the tunnel that is now a creaky dark wooden crawl space lined with spider webs. But Race forces himself through and slams the door in his real home screaming out for Jack.

No one comes running.

Race runs around the apartment, longing for safe arms and reassuring words but Jack’s just not there.

Upon realizing this, Race rushes to his neighbors, telling them that his brother was missing only for them to brush him off and tell him that Jack was probably just out running an errand. Beth, however, does give a Race a little trinket, a triangle with an eye whole in the middle of it. She says it’s for finding lost things.

Charlie finds him and asks for the doll he gave him back and Racer tries to tell him what the ghost children told him, and he realizes that he met Medda’s twin brother. Charlie is confused by this and calls Race crazy before running (limping) away towards his home.

Race tries to call Katherine. The phone won’t connect. He cries, begging for Jack to stop playing this joke on him because he doesn’t like it, but Jack doesn’t pop out to comfort him.

Race is all alone.

So he curls up on Jack and Katherine’s bed, shaking and crying, trying to wake up.

He’s woken not too long after that, by a cat pawing at his nose. Confused and scared, Race asks if Todd knew where his brother was, shocking to find that the cat nods at him. He follows the kitty to a full length mirror in the hall, watching the thing swirl in a mystic blue before he can see snow blowing harshly all around a shivering young man who’s only wearing a t-shirt and jeans.

Jack rushes to the glass when he can see the little boy. Race gasps and tries to get to him, but finds that he doesn’t know how. Jack pressed his hand against the mirror, tears in his eyes as he has no idea what’s happening, but he knows his baby is on the other side of that glass.

In a fit of panic, Race bangs on the glass and the mirror shatters around him. He knows that The Spider is behind this. And he knows he has to go back to The Other World.

As he crawls back through the tunnel, Todd follows him, instructing that he should make this into a game. The Spider loves games. So Race takes his advice, though the cat warns him that The Spider won’t play fair.

The other door opens and someone who appears to be Jack shouts for him, nearly in tears as he reaches for the boy. But, upon touching him, Race realizes that it’s just another one of The Spider’s tricks.

The Spider asks why Race would run away from him while dragging the boy to the kitchen to make him breakfast. Race demands his real brother be returned to him but the Spider claims that Jack must’ve just run away and gotten bored of him. After The Spider sends The Other Katherine away, Race proposes that they play a game, anger rising in him at the entity pretending to be his brother, but more at himself for wanting to get away from Jack and Katherine in the first place.

The Spider is intrigued by the prospect of a game, unable to back down from a challenge. So Race explains that he’d find the eyes of the ghost children and his real brother and that if he did, The Spider had to let him and everyone else go.

The Spider accepts.

But Race demands a hint.

“In each of three wonders I've made just for you, a ghost's eye is lost in plain sight,” is all he gets before The Spider vanishes and leaves him alone.

The little boy does his best to explore, needing to find the eyes of the ghost children. The first in the garden The Other Katherine had made for him, the second in the theater Beth and Kaitlyn had cheered for him, and the third in the mouse circus where rats were now crawling over spilled candy and popcorn.

Race uses the small thing Beth had given him to fight his way towards those treasures, nearly getting swallowed by the small world, torn apart by the puppet twins and eaten alive by the rats that made up a Weasel. But he finds every eye. All that’s left is finding Jack.

However, as the night settles over The Other World, The Spider claims Race might be too late. Ever clever, Race manages to trick The Spider into unlocking the small door he’s locked up already, claiming that he knew that’s where the which had hidden his big brother, all the while knowing that Jack was trapped in a snow globe on the mantle, something he’d figured out after seeing a tiny handprint on the glass.

He grabs the glass and tumbles through the tunnel, leaving The Spider behind after an epic battle that the ghost children, finally free, help him win. They help him back inside his own home where Race hastily locks the door and goes to run, only to slip on something.

One of the snow globes is broken.

The front door opens and Jack calls into the house, saying that he’d just picked up Katherine from the airport. When he sees his baby brother kneeling in glass and water, he immediately rushes to him, still covered in snow, though he has no idea what Race is talking about when he hugs him tight, sobbing about him being free. Jack just helps him to the kitchen and cleans him up, apologizing to him because he knows this has been an adjustment for Race and he knows it’s been hard on him, but he just wants to make it up to him.

Race just hugs him and Katherine so tightly, never wanting to let go.

After his guardians tuck him into bed, Todd curls up next to him as he drifts off. He dreams of the ghost children, who thank him refusely for setting him free. But it’s not over, they tell him. Race is still not safe.

As there is only one key to that door, The Spider will find it and Race needs to hide it where he’ll never be able to get it.

So, in the middle of the night, Race runs out into the woods to that old, forgotten well with his cat, nervously humming the song Katherine would sing to him all the time and planning to drop the key down the well. Little does he know, one of The Spider’s crawling hands is following him, ready to strike before Charlie rushes to save him, nearly getting pushed into the well himself. But the slightly older boy manages to crush the hand with a stone and together he and Racer drop the key down into the never ending well.

And Race is finally free.

He grows to love the neighborhood and the mansion he gets to live in. Jack and Katherine even host a barbecue on his insistence, inviting everyone, including Charlie and Miss Medda who Charlie explains he’s never seen so at peace.

And though Race refuses to go anywhere near that little door again, all is well.

Race has his real family who love him dearly. And that’s all he’ll ever need.

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