#Anita how is your reel?
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- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ ERLING HAALAND imagine ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ┊e.haaland x f! reader
☄︎⋆ ༘ how would look your relationship with his family while you two are dating. . .
⇢ ˗ˏˋ FIRST MEETING ࿐ྂ
• you weren’t sure if it was a good idea to meet erling’s family and spend Christmas with them. when you heard that from him, you were speechless for a few seconds. it was supposed to be two-in-one solution. because you and erling were in a long-distance relationship, so you two didn’t hang out as much as you wanted to. you didn’t see each other for a full month, because you had school and he needed to train. unfortunately, the only "dates" you had were mostly by facetime, it made you miss each other, so erling came up with the idea of spending Christmas with his family.
• as anyone knew, erling was so close to his siblings and parents. he was such a family man, which made him an amazing person and partner. but you didn’t know if his family would accept you, you thought that his parents had their perfect idea of the perfect girlfriend for their youngest son. and you weren’t sure if you would meet their expectations.
• let’s say that you had a very interesting style. you loved funky makeup, that was far away from the "clean girl aesthetic" it was kind of your therapy and a form of expressing yourself. also, you didn’t like your natural hair, you just thought it were boring, so you wear a wigs every day. you had kind of big collection of those. you were grateful that erling loved your style and always complimented your looks. but you were scared that this would be something that they would hate about.
• when the day finally came, you were shaking internally, but you tried to look fine on the outside. you knew it was important to erling, so you didn’t want to be a dramatic queen because it was not your thing. when you two were finally outside his home, you squeezed the handle of your suitcase. you were expecting the worst greeting of your life, but as soon as you saw a middle-aged woman with a big smile on her face, your concerns disappeared.
• they were the kindest people you knew. it was surprising that they already treated you like a part of their family, even if they just met you. you didn’t have good terms with your own family, so you finally felt what a real family should look like.
• they appreciate everything you have done to help them with Christmas preparations, even if it was just setting the table or small things like this.
• long story short, you were positively surprised how Christmas at erling’s home turned out.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS SISTER ࿐ྂ
• what can you say? gabrielle is the kindhearted soul you met. when you two first met, she was mesmerized by your energy and your look. she was totally your opposite; she wasn’t interested in makeup or crazy fashion items that much, her makeup bag was simple, and her outfits were mostly basic, but you became her inspiration.
• she was so excited that her little brother found a girl who was actually worth his attention. she knew that he seemed like a big, heartless guy, but he was a perfect example of why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. so it was a relief for her when she saw how happy you made his brother.
• she loved to steal you from erling and have a girl’s night with you. she was a mom, and let’s be honest, it is a full-time job, so she loved even this one night to relax with you, sometimes she also invited anita.
• she loves sending you tiktok’s or instagram reels with sometimes goofy ideas to record. when you two are alone (or with her brother, astor) she loves to do some trends or things like that, it just makes her happy.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS BROTHER ࿐ྂ
• astor became your spirit animal, you two are literally besties. you’re just acting like a stereotypical sibling who likes to joke about each other, etc. but you are happy that you finally have someone like that in your life.
• he is the master of sending you random stuff on instagram; memes, random tiktok’s. sometimes it isn’t even funny, but you always appreciate an effort. he is also the queen of recording the tiktok’s with you & gabrielle.
• he could be so random, like a video call just to tell you an unfunny joke and then hang out? yeah, he is something like that.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS PARENTS ࿐ྂ
• alfie has always been an open-minded and positive person, so he doesn’t care about these little things like your look, style, makeup, etc. it’s just a way to express yourself, but it doesn’t say what kind of personality you have. and in his opinion, your personality is great, and he’s proud that his son found someone like you. he is fulfilled as a father when his children are happy.
• marita was excited to meet you, just like every mom, she wanted to meet her future daughter-in-law (she really hoped that it wasn’t only an affair). and let me tell you, she wasn’t disappointed. marita was also super happy that all of her children had love of their lives at such a young age. she really couldn’t be happier.
• alfie was impressed by your sense of humour. he enjoyed a good competition by making horrible dad jokes. when it comes to a family dinner, it just switches to live stand-up comedy or even a roast. sometimes only you two are laughing, but who cares?
⇢ ˗ˏˋ RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS STEP MOM & STEP SISTERS ࿐ྂ
• anita is in love with you. she loved when you came to norway, especially with food/snacks from your country. she also appreciates your kindness and how well you treat erling, she thinks that you are his soulmate.
• and the girls, love you (maybe a bit more than they love erling…) you are an inspiration for them, which you find cute. they are always super excited when anita tells them that you will be in norway for a few days, they would even make you your favourite cookies (with a bit of anita’s help, but still)
❛ ━━･❪ the end ❫ ･━━ ❜
hope you liked it!! i think it’s cute ¿headcanons? yeah, let me know how you liked it!!
#football imagine#erling haaland#erling x reader#erling håland#celebrities#manchester city#haaland x reader#x reader#jude bellingham#family#football#soccer imagine#jack grealish
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@executiioner : [ CLAIM ] our muses are arguing because receiver is worried and overprotective of sender, but when they get up in each other’s faces they end up kissing and groping at each other.
Steve is being reasonable. He’s looked at this objectively, which normally comes to him easily, but he’d put extra effort into it because this concerned Anita, and everyone knows he doesn’t think the most clear when Anita was involved. Not because he was blinded by his love for her, but because he was driven mad by how infuriating she was . . .
‘ I’m not being stubborn, I’m just telling you the facts --- ’
‘ That you’ve twisted to suit your own needs --- ’
‘ Because it’s just logical to --- ’
‘ Like you always do --- ’
‘ What needs --- ? ’
‘ All your machismo and your --- ’
‘ You think that’s what this is ? ’ It’s his pure disbelief, pure incredulousness that finally silences her. As if she needed reminding, once again, what fuelled each of his actions around her, his motivations when it came to her . . .
He would always remind her.
Their love often transforms to war. Perhaps that’s what happens when two people who have been fighting their whole lives collide, perhaps that’s what happens when two people who don’t know any better rear up at each other. They’ve been this way since the day they met, letting anger speak ahead of the feelings they were too afraid to give a voice to for themselves. Or perhaps it was just less complicated that way.
Unfortunately, this twisted love that had turned into something beautiful in its own way had stuck around, and all those earlier avoided complications were now knocking on their door.
Anita is close, but at least she had shut up. She hadn’t backed down, though, and Steve has never known her to. Their gazes are steady, and despite him looking down and her looking up, Steve never feels quite so vulnerable as he does looking into her eyes. There can never be any lies with her. Not that he tells them, but he’s often omitted or hidden truths to protect himself, project a different image of himself that didn’t feel so much. Ironically, all the things he did to make himself less vulnerable, she decimated.
‘ I love --- ’
She’s on him before he can get the words out, tender, though the rush of it has him reeling. Two hands on either side of his face draw him down, and then she’s clawing over him, arms thrown around his shoulders and he’s straightening up, bringing her legs up to wrap around him. They pass a single breath back and forth, lets it dance on their tongues before they each try to swallow it, her chasing for the words he hadn’t been able to say, him trying to say them anyway.
When they do pause for a real breath, one that would fill their lungs, he starts again --- ‘ Can’t believe you --- ’ And apparently that was the wrong track to start off on because he’s met with a yank of his hair and a harsh kiss to shut him up once again, her teeth sinking into his lip when he attempts to retaliate by squeezing her ass. When the fight of it diminishes, the kiss turns as tender as it began, and he slowly lets her slip down his body until she’s standing on her own two feet, him almost doubled over as their bodies remain curved into each other.
‘ I love you, ’ he murmurs. ‘ I’m not leaving you. ’
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30 questions!
Tagged by: @xxlumos
Rules: answer 30 questions and tag 20 people you’d like to know better
1. Name/ Nickname: Sam/Sammy
2. Gender: He/Him
3. Star sign: Leo
4. Height: 5”3 (160 cm)
5. Time: 1:28 pm
6. Birthday: 21.08
7. Favorite bands: Saltatio Mortis, Powerwolf, Wadruna and Blackbriar
8. Favorite solo artist: Aurora, Woodkid, Patty Gurdy, Cosmo Sheldrake and Macka B
9. Song stuck in your head: Oh there are sooo many, but atm it’s probably ‘‘Savage Daugther’‘ by Wyndreth Berginsdottir
10. Last movie: Lord of the Rings
11. Last show: ‘’the Mandalorian’‘ and ‘’American Gods’‘ (and ‘’supernatural’‘ but just lets ignore this ok? ok.)
12. When did I create this blog: create maybe 2013/2014 but I didn’t post anything till last year
13. What do I post: I absolutly don’t know. Sometimes fandom stuff, other times Facts about marine animals. But mostly Shitposts I guess.
14. Last thing I googled: ‘‘What will happen after the downfall of capitalism?’‘ and ‘‘How can I adop a dog or frog?’‘ (My last two Braincells lmao)
15. Other blogs: none
16. Do I get ask: nope
17. Why I chose my URL: when I started my transition I wanted somthing with ‘’boy’’ or ‘’ftm’’ in it and since the ‘’Aspergers Syndrom’’ is also called ‘’wrong planet syndrom’’ I took that (my autistic ass thought it was a good idea)
18. Following: 94
19. Followers: 35 (even most of them are Pornblogs or friends who didn’t deleted their accounts when they left tumblr but the rest of you, are you guys ok?)
20. Average hours of sleep: on good days maybe 8-9 on bad I have lucky 3 hours
21. Lucky number: 7?
22. Instruments: I played flute for 10 years and I can some song on a piano. But I wish my mum had let me learn some kind of violin.
23. What I’m wearing: sweatpants, a frog hoodie and some fluffy socks
24. Dream job: as a character designer or gerneralist in a nice production studio for Film or TV. Or maybe in a game studio
25. Dream Trip: New Zealand, Iceland, Scottland and all the Scandinavic countries
26. Favorite food: sweet potato, cookis and asian takeout from this on store in my city
27. Nationality: German
28. Favorite song: '’the Moss’‘ by Cosmo Sheldrake and ‘‘Große Träume’‘ by Saltatio Mortis
29. Last Book: last finished Book was ‘’Hyddenworld’’ part 3 by William Horwood but at the same time still reading ‘’The chronicals of Alice’‘ 2 by Christina Henry and ‘‘50 Great Shortstories’‘ by many many different authors
30. Top 3 fictional worlds I would live in: uhm ... still Harry Potter (I just wanna be a wizard and do magic things), maybe Hyddenworld and Middelearth as a Hobbit (which is nearly the same as in Hyddenworld lol)
I’ll tag: Don’t know, everyone who wanna do this? Like I don’t wanna push anybody to do this
#this took way to long#like longer than i expected#lol#have fun with the information#so now back to work#still have to finish my reel#wish me luck or something#Anita how is your reel?
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significance.
50 Cliché Tropes and Prompts: 26. Cuddling in comfortable silence before murmuring “I love you” + 47. “I’ve been in love with you for years”
Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4,118 words
Warning: Swearing, violence
His head feels like it’s been split open, the rest of his body feels like one giant bruise and the Handler’s daughter has her fancy leather boot on his fucking throat.
Five couldn’t be less surprised by his luck.
“Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”
He forces in just enough breath to answer her. “Eat shit and die …!”
The reaction is worth it. Lila lets out a furious cry, gritting her teeth and bringing her foot down even harder – and in doing so, changes her center of gravity. Opportunity. Five digs his nails into that damned shoe and pushes upwards. The sudden force sends her flying, and he can breathe again.
Fighting the ache in his bones, Five stumbles to his feet as she does the same. “Come on,” he pants, readying his stance as the woman turns to face him again. “What are you waiting for? Let’s finish this thing.”
She shakes her head. “No,” she whispers, sniffling. “This isn’t gonna be quick. You are going to suffer for what you did.”
Suffer? For Christ’s sake – Five scoffs and drops his hands. “Lady, I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about.”
“Ronnie and Anita Gill.”
“Mean nothing to me.”
“1993, East London.” Lila continues to stare at him like he knows what the hell she’s talking about. “You hog-tied them and you shot them in the head.”
Five narrows his eyes; it’s very possible that she’s just bullshitting him. But despite the rationality of just ignoring her and going for the kill, he searches his memories anyway. 1993, East London. Hog-tied. Tables overturned, the pleas of a couple inside a tiny flat in the middle of the night. Yes, wait – he does remember. 1993, toys strewn everywhere – he told you to close your eyes but you didn’t – East London, two quick shots –
“We had no choice.”
“I know. But …”
“The flower merchants,” he murmurs. Five looks at her with wide eyes. “They were your parents …!”
“And they never did anything to anyone. They didn’t deserve to die like that.”
The Handler ordered him to kill Lila’s parents. Lila, who has powers like them. That couldn’t have been a coincidence.
Absorbing this newfound information, Five attempts to talk the woman down as he fills out the rest of the picture. “You’re right, alright? I killed them. But I killed a lot of people over the years. It was all just a job. Alright? That was never personal.”
At that, Lila laughs. “‘Never personal,’ my ass,” she sneers. “Yeah, I’ve killed – it’s always, always personal.”
“That’s why you’re not cut out to be an assassin.”
She yanks a knife out of her boot as soon as the sentence leaves his mouth. “Bet your life on that?”
Right then, a shadow moves in the doorway to the barn. Five immediately knows who it is, and his heart seizes in his chest.
“Lila!” Your voice is firm and taunting.
Shit. Shit!
Without hesitation, Five lunges for the knife, only to find himself grabbing at air as Lila reappears behind you. The blade is pressed against your neck before he can even shout your name.
Five clenches his fists as he meets your eyes. Your expression is stony, hands stiffly grasping at Lila’s arm. Jesus Christ, just a little energy to blink – nothing –!
Fucking shit!
“Let her go.”
—
The bearded man smiles. “Sorry, no can do.”
The alley is frigid and dark, the air damp and rotting. He doesn’t move a muscle. In front of him, you breathe steadily, in and out, not saying a word. The steel barrel pressed flush to your temple mirrors the one against his.
“Just hand over your valuables and that briefcase, and we can be on our way.”
“Sorry,” you say, voice steady and cold. (It makes him proud.) “Everything stays with us.”
He looks at you. You blink.
Within the next half-second, he’s knocked your captor to the ground and the two of you are aiming the guns at their previous owners. They raise their hands almost immediately. Exactly like the exercise from his youth.
Another half-second, and both of you pull the triggers.
Five stares down at the corpse now lying on the ground. Then he straightens his tie and turns to you.
You’re still pointing the gun at the other target. His frown softens.
“[Y/n].”
Putting a hand on your arm, he notes how you stiffen, snapping out of whatever zone you had been in. You meet his eyes and breathe in sharply, then relax.
“We’re done.” You frame the question as more of a statement as Five takes the former thief’s gun from you.
“For the night,” he affirms, holding your gaze curiously. “You good?”
You wet your lips and tuck your weapon away. “I’m okay,” you eventually reply. He raises an eyebrow; your mouth twitches. “I just – well, you’re taking this whole assassin thing a lot better than I am. Pointing guns and shooting and killing for real, and – and all that pizzazz.”
“I was a member of the Umbrella Academy,” Five points out dryly. “Thirteen more years of formal training and being able to spatial jump gives me somewhat of an advantage.”
“… That’s true.” Still, you seem unsettled. “Five, you’re okay with this? We’re … killing people.”
“No. But we have no other option,” he says. “It’s only until I figure out how to get us back, alright?”
You hesitate, then nod. “Alright.”
The pair of you leave the alley, leaving the targets there to be found by the police. The fact that they had a gun pointed at your head should make him feel better about it. They were already criminals, too. Self-defense instead of cold-blooded “corrections.”
There’s still a bitter taste in his mouth anyway.
“You hold your own pretty well,” he murmurs after a while, trying to distract himself.
You grant him a small, knowing smile. “Thanks,” you say, taking his arm as the pair of you walk the rest of the way to the motel. “I had a good teacher while I was stuck in the ruins of the apocalypse.”
He hums. “Weren’t you lucky?”
Your hand tightens around the sleeve of his tailored suit.
“The luckiest.”
—
He’s going to kill her.
Teeth bared, Five starts toward her, only to stop short when Lila presses the blade harder against your throat.
“Not another step, Five,” she warns him, her grip tightening. “Or you’ll both regret it.”
“She’s not responsible for what happened. I was the one who killed them!”
“But she didn’t stop you, did she?”
Five struggles to control his rage. The knife is sharp and black underneath your jaw, ready to draw blood at a moment’s notice.
You inhale shallowly. “Lila,” you rasp.
“Don’t speak.”
“Look,” Five forces out as evenly as he can, catching the woman’s attention again. He can’t take his eyes off that goddamn knife. Five can almost feel the edge cutting into his own skin. “You wanna blame someone, blame the Handler, alright? She faked the kill order.”
“Bullshit! I saw the kill order. AJ Carmichael ordered it, and you and [Y/n] carried it out.”
“Lila, listen to what I’m telling you, alright? The Handler gave us the kill order. She came on the job, which she’d never done before.” He unclenches his fists with unwilling, trembling fingers. His mind is reeling. “You’re Commission. You know execs never go on jobs, but that day in London, she was there. Ask yourself why –”
“Stop trying to muddy the waters.”
Five swallows, pulse racing. He rips his eyes away from your neck to gauge Lila’s expression. Doubt is beginning to bleed into it, and he manages to keep his tone level.
Focus on completing the picture. No sudden movements.
“Think about it, Lila. It all makes sense.”
Lila’s grip on the knife relaxes by the smallest amount. She hesitates for a moment before speaking. “What?”
“She never cared about your parents. She was looking for you.”
What little is left of her anger melts off Lila’s face. For the first time, the girl looks completely vulnerable. And it’s not a farce.
“Why?” she whispers.
Come on …
“‘Cause you’re one of us.”
Lila whips her head around when Diego cuts through the silence, holding you even more tightly against herself. Five’s gaze snaps back to the knife again and he swears internally.
Dammit, Diego, you better have a plan!
“The Handler stole you, Lila. Just like our asshole father took all of us,” his brother explains carefully.
“No. It’s not the same thing.”
“You’re right. Because he didn’t have our parents murdered.” Diego approaches her, staying low to the ground, hands outstretched. “Listen to me, Lila. You were born October 1, 1989, the same day as all of us.”
The rest of his siblings close in on Lila, slowly, warily. The movement sends her into a panic, and she cuts a little into your neck. You let out half of a gasp and swallow the rest of it, but it’s enough.
Five sees red.
“Get your fucking hands off her!”
“STAY BACK!”
“Five! Back off!” Diego shouts. Chest heaving and blood roaring in his ears, Five looks at him and then at your sweaty, frozen face – and against every fiber of his being, he listens and backs off, glaring venomously as his brother then turns to Lila again. “Lila? Lila, stop. Let her go.”
She turns her head from side to side, knuckles white as she keeps the knife against your throat. “No,” she chokes. “Diego, you don’t understand. They killed my parents. They took my life away from me.”
Five seethes. “For the last time, it was nothing personal –"
“And it was wrong. I know.” Diego’s eyes flit to Five’s, silently reprimanding. “You want to make them pay for what they did. But killing [Y/n]’s not gonna bring your parents back. You know that.”
“It’s not about bringing them back.”
He nods once, softly. “You’re right. It’s about justice. Honoring their memory.” Diego’s voice is gentle. “Trust me, Lila, I get it. I lost someone to the Commission too. She wasn’t family, but she was my friend, and I cared about her. She wasn’t supposed to die. She didn’t deserve to die. But she did.”
As Diego continues talking, Five keeps his guard up on the other side, watching and waiting for a contraction of a muscle, a single forewarning of violence. If another drop of your blood stains that blade, shit, he’ll kill the woman with his own two hands, Diego’s feelings be damned.
Tightening his jaw, Five shifts on his feet as he looks at you. You stare back with calm eyes – just like that night in the alley, but this time, with no signal for him to make a move.
Goddammit, they should’ve gotten you to safety by now!
“… Just think about whether taking another life would honor their memory. [Y/n] deserves a chance to start over, live a peaceful life with people she cares about. And so do you.”
Lila’s trembling. Yet, she refuses to budge. “If it weren’t for her and Five,” she whispers, “I wouldn’t need that second chance. I would have been all alone if Mum hadn’t found me that night.”
“But there’s a reason she found you. She’s using you, Lila. The Handler.”
“You’re wrong. She raised me.” Lila pauses, then asserts, “She loves me.”
“She’s dangerous,” Diego emphasizes. “And you’re scared of what she’ll do with all that new power. That’s why you dragged me to the Commission. Because I know what it’s like to love dangerous people.”
—
“Oh, my.” The Handler puts a hand on his shoulder, hovering behind him. “One hundred and forty-three kills on the simulation? That’s a new record. Very, very good, Five.”
Five bristles at her closeness, but he doesn’t move away, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of unnerving him. “Thanks,” he says tersely.
“Tell me, Five. From what I’ve seen during your training, you’d be a lot more efficient in the field if you were a one-man team. Working alone is when you work best.”
“I’m partnering up with [Y/n].”
“And you’ve filled out the paperwork and everything, I know. I know. But I implore you to think about it logically,” the Handler tells him, leading him down the hallway. “[Y/n] has highly marked assessments, but frankly, they’re nowhere near your level.” She raises her eyebrows at him and blows out a stream of smoke. “Forgive me for assuming, but perhaps this is less about a partnership that would benefit the Commission and more about your personal … relationship.”
Five smiles thinly at her. “With all due respect, we’ve worked together for years. Almost forty years, in fact. I can assure you that our partnership will deliver more than satisfactory results.”
The woman just hums serenely, eyebrows still raised and cigarette holder between her lips as he faces her. Behind her, he sees you approaching.
“Excuse me,” he says politely.
As he sidesteps the Handler to meet you halfway, your shared employer calls out to him, voice ringing through the sparse crowd of Commission drones. “You’re a dangerous man, Five,” she drawls, “and this is a dangerous job. If you want to protect someone, we won’t stop you, but don’t let it endanger this opportunity we’ve so generously provided. To the both of you.”
“Duly noted,” Five replies over his shoulder, walking away with you. He can hear the Handler’s heels click against the floor as she goes on her way as well.
“She’s suspicious about us partnering up, isn’t she?” you ask him lowly.
He frowns. “I would be too if I were her. But we have to stay together.”
“Well.” You reach up to adjust his hat, tilting it slightly. “In any case, I’m pulling my own weight in the field. Just like in the apocalypse. No one-sided protection.”
“[Y/n], this is different from the apocalypse. We’re not dealing with food shortages or bad weather – we’re dealing with people.”
“All the more reason for you to trust me.” Despite your usual controlled tone and mien, he sees the way that your eyes glint. “I’m kinda dangerous myself, Five. Especially for the people I love, and I’ve been in love with you for years.”
Five sighs.
“You’re so sappy, you know that?”
(Nevertheless, he finds himself mumbling those four words, just loud enough for only you to hear.)
—
“Difference is …” Diego glances around at their siblings, then looks down, “they love me back.”
“Shut up.”
“The only thing she loves is power. Now, the minute she can’t use you, she will turn on you, and deep down, I know you know that.”
She tilts the knife against your neck. Five sucks in a breath, his heart pounding.
“You don’t know me, Diego.” Lila’s voice is hoarse.
Diego steps closer. He lifts a hand to cover hers over the knife.
“Don’t I?” he whispers. “I know that we can be your family. If you just let us.”
Lila’s eyes are glossy with unshed tears. Hesitantly, she turns her head to look around at his family, and in that moment, Five has a cautious inkling that Diego’s words actually got through to her. She doesn’t resist when Diego pulls her hand gently.
When she releases you, he almost feels weak with relief.
Five murmurs your name as you stagger over to him; you grab his arms, and he raises his hands to hold your face between them.
“Shit,” he breathes, “[Y/n] –”
“I’m okay,” he hears you say, but his ears are ringing and your skin is cold and shit, your neck – delicately, Five tilts your head back, and you attempt to brush his hands away. “Five, it’s – it’s just a scratch …”
His fingers brush against a wetness on your skin. You wince, almost imperceptibly. He draws back to look at his hand, and when he sees the blood on his fingertips, your blood, the wave of relief crashing onto him abruptly morphs back into rage.
Before you can pull him back, Five lunges at Lila.
Gunshots echo throughout the barn.
—
You’re smiling.
—
He wakes up, gasping for breath.
“Oh, good! You’re still alive,” the Handler says, looming over him. Her lipstick is bright red through the dizzying blurs. “Lucky you. You got to see how this all played out.”
Grappling for air, Five tries to speak – tries to give one last word, to finally tell the damned snake to fuck off as he stares into the barrel of her automatic. But it hurts to breathe and he can’t. Fuck, it hurts. It hurts. His tongue feels like lead and his throat is closed up. All he can do is look.
But before she can pull the trigger, he hears gunfire.
Bullets rend flesh that isn’t his. Five’s eyes widen, stunned; the Handler gasps sharply. She turns. More gunfire.
She falls.
Shit, that could only mean.… Five struggles to lift his head, almost blacking out from the pain as the gunman approaches, crushing straw underfoot. A shadow falls over him.
The Swede silently tilts his gun down at his face, and he realizes: they are both the last ones. Everyone else is dead. The Swede’s brothers. The Handler. Lila. His siblings. You.
This is the end.
(This doesn’t have to be the end.)
… Five blinks, numb.
(You’re the one who got us stuck here.)
Unless …
(Seconds. Not decades.)
Seconds.
His lungs burn. Hope blooms in his chest.
(C’mon, Five.)
Concentrate. Hands clenching sluggishly, Five focuses on gaining back the feeling in them. Seconds, not decades. A familiar, electric buzz thrums through his bones, warm, crackling with energy. His hands begin to glow. Blue envelops them like they had so many times before.
It happens slowly, time reversing itself like molasses oozing back into a jar. The Swede lowers his arm and retreats. Bodies begin to rise. Five feels himself getting pushed up, and his feet touch the ground; he presses forward, running, refusing to look back. The sharp pains recede to a singular ache.
Seconds.
Seconds.
He breaks through behind the barn door with a gasp. Air fills his chest, full and crisp.
Immediately, Five looks back at you and everyone else, standing and breathing, and pats himself just to make sure.
Holy shit.
Spotting movement outside, Five leaps at the Handler just as she walks in, seizing her weapon and turning it on her. His finger curls at the trigger. She raises her hands in surrender, lips pursed.
Got you, you son of a bitch.
“It’s true, isn’t it? What Five said,” he hears Lila ask. He doesn’t dare look away from her mother, meeting her poisonous glare with an equally cold one. “Answer me! Is it true?”
The Handler takes in a breath. “Well –”
Before she can finish her sentence, blood sprays out from her chest. She collapses. Dead.
The Swede. Five stares at her body, gun lowering. There’s a pregnant pause, void of any air – and then in his periphery, Lila shoots forward.
Luther charges after her. “The case!”
“No!”
Diego tackles him to the ground. Lila disappears in a flash of blue.
One dead, one missing. Neither of which are you or his siblings. There might be hope for them yet. Rolling his shoulders, Five turns his attention to the rogue assassin, cocking his gun and pointing it at him. The Swede reciprocates.
Nobody utters a word, for fear that it may be their last. But as Five feels the weight of the automatic in his arms, he wonders, suddenly, just how much he has in common with this man. A forgotten humanity. The death of their families. The force of a person with nothing to lose.
Except in the Swede’s case, he has no chance of gaining back what he had lost.
This is the end.
Five takes his finger off the trigger, then after a brief hesitation, lets go of the gun.
“Enough,” he says.
Nothing happens at first. The only sign that the man heard him is how he looks away from Five, surveying the rest of the barn’s occupants.
Five returns his gaze firmly, muscles tense, when he meets it again. The Swede regards him for another moment, then finally speaks.
“Inte mer.”
He drops his weapon. No more killing.
—
After Vanya helps the kid and calms him down, she goes with him and Sissy to help them pack up. Everyone else exits the barn as well to rest up and say their goodbyes before leaving, save for Diego, who talks to Herb and Dot with you and Five before joining the rest of the group at the house.
As soon as everything seems like it’s on track, Five brings you straight to the bathroom before you can protest.
“Five, it’s just a scratch.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
In a familiar turn of events, you’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, sulking as he cleans the rest of the dried blood from your neck. Five scowls as he inspects the thin, rough scab underneath your jaw. For shit’s sake, it’s more than a ‘scratch’ – but at the very least, the cut wasn’t deep enough to cause too much bleeding.
Obviously, he’d have preferred it if you hadn’t gotten cut at all.
“She could’ve killed you.”
“I know,” you murmur. He glares at you softly, and you reach over to hold his hand. “Sorry for worrying you.”
Five scoffs, shaking his head. “Worrying me? I was damn well past worrying when she –” At that moment, he makes the mistake of seeing the guilt in your eyes, and he sighs. “What the hell were you thinking?”
You shrug quietly as he opens a large Band-Aid. “That I had to do something to keep you safe.”
“At your expense?”
Your miniscule smile changes into a grimace for a split second when he sticks the bandage on, but it returns immediately after. “You would’ve done the same thing, Five.”
All he can retort with is a displeased huff.
Silently, you stand up and turn him around, urging him to sit down this time as you pluck another hand towel from the stack that Vanya had given the two of you. Five sits still, mouth shut and eyes watching, as you start cleaning his face. Your expression is tender. A familiar feeling wells up inside of him.
Suddenly, you chuckle.
“What?”
“It’s just – if I didn’t know any better,” you say, scrubbing at a particularly grimy spot on his cheek, “I’d think that you were a schoolboy that just got into a fight and lost.”
He rolls his eyes. “Well, good thing that you do know better, because I obviously would’ve won.”
“Obviously.” Your eyes glint, like they have so many times before.
—
“How bad does it hurt?”
Your hand is soft in his as he glances at his wrist, propped up on a stack of books, then into the small fire burning a few feet away. “Not that much,” he answers. “Thanks for splinting it.”
“Thanks for talking me through it.” You breathe in, head on his shoulder, testing the words on your tongue before you continue. “I was worried. I’m glad it’s feeling better.”
A wrist sprain is nothing to write home about, figuratively speaking. It’s more of an inconvenience than an actual concern; Five figures that the injury will heal in a week, a week and a half at the most. Frankly, he’s more concerned about how much longer it’ll take to complete daily tasks in the meantime.
… You, on the other hand – well, he wonders if you’ve ever gotten anything more than a few cuts and scrapes growing up. The closest he had ever seen you get to panicking was after he fell today, and you’ve been wandering around with him for years.
In a strange way, Five thinks, he was glad for it. He is glad for you. Glad for your presence, your level head. He is glad for the way you hold his hand and talk to him during the day and after dark. And he is glad, secretly, that you want to protect him just like he wants to protect you.
“I love you.”
The words slip out, rough and unbidden.
Five holds his breath when they echo in his ears. You stop tapping your fingers over his skin. Perhaps that’s a bad thing. It was not a mistake, of course, and he isn’t going to take it back, but if that wasn’t what you were saying this whole time – shit. He lets go of your hand, his throat scratchy and strangely closed up.
But then – your fingertips brush his face. He swallows.
“I love you too.”
#cliché tropes and prompts#source: bucky-plums-barnes#five hargreeves#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves imagine#the umbrella academy five#the umbrella academy#tua#five x reader#five imagine#tua fanfic#fanfic#reader insert#fluff#angst#tua s2 spoilers#tw violence#flashbacksssssss#yeah boi#i am conflicted abt the ending asdfhgjasdlkf; sorry for the weird close :(#five x fem!reader#fem!reader
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Don’t wanna miss a thing
Birthday song challenge for @din-damn-djarin (prompt 37)
Marcus Moreno x widowed f!reader, Missy Moreno & reader
1999 words
summary & warnings: Just days before your wedding to Marcus, your emotions are going a bit haywire. Starts angsty but turns fluffy I promise! Themes of loss and grief, loss of a spouse/family member
Sobbing in the bathtub a couple of days before your wedding was not where you thought this evening was going, but here you were. Bawling your eyes out. You had just meant to take a quick shower to freshen up before bed, as your day had been mostly filled with last minute preparations and you were sweaty from hauling around decorations. Maybe not hiring a wedding planner had been a mistake, in more ways than one.
“Honey? You in there?” Marcus’ voice sounded after a hesitant knock on the bathroom door. You knew you should answer him, but you just didn’t have the strength to at this moment.
“Sweetheart?” He tried again, and you could hear the worry in his tone and it only made you feel worse.
“I’m coming in.” Marcus warned after another two minutes or so. It was endearing how considerate he was of your privacy even though you’d told him it was okay to come into the bathroom with you on numerous occasions. If you really didn’t want anyone to come in you’d lock the door and he was the man you were going to marry in less than 48 hours.
The door creaked open and Marcus padded across the bathmat, slowly pulling aside the shower curtain.
“Darling?” Hesitantly, he reached out his hand to you, gently nudging your shoulder. Still sobbing, you gripped it and held it to your face, kissing his palm between tears and hoping he’d understand. Even if you didn’t.
“Is this about Sean?” He asked softly, thumb caressing your cheekbone. You nodded. Marcus sighed; he hated seeing you upset. Just like Sean had. Marcus nudged your chin up and pressed a kiss to your forehead, not caring that the water got on his glasses.
“If you want to be alone for a bit longer that’s alright, but please let me get you out of the shower? You’re shivering.”
It was true enough. The water had gone cold a while ago and now, taking stock of your body you realized you were freezing. You nodded and let Marcus help you up and wrap you in the big fluffy towels he’d bought the two of you as a house-warming gift when you’d moved in together. You leaned on him as he dried you off, suddenly exhausted from your outburst of emotion. You let him help you dress yourself in your fluffiest pyjamas, the shivers slowly subsiding when he pulled your extra fluffy socks onto your feet.
“Okay?” He asked, kneeling on the ground between your feet while you were sitting on your shared bed. You nodded absently, catching his hand and bringing it up to your face. The tears had stopped but the deep sadness lingered.
“Please stay?” You whispered. He kissed your knee, then your free hand.
“I’ll just tell Missy good night, okay?”
A noise from the hallway drew your attention. Missy stood in the doorframe like summoned, and your heart broke at her anxious expression.
“Hey bunny.” You tried to smile, but it didn’t quiet reach your eyes. Missy looked between you and Marcus in concern, her lip starting to quiver.
“Bunny, what is it?” You patted the space next to you, inviting her to sit. After a look at her father, she rushed over, instantly wrapping her arms around you. You exchanged a worried glance with Marcus, and he rose to sit down at his daughter’s other side.
“What’s wrong, bunny? You know you can tell me.” You coaxed again, your own undefined sorrows forgotten in face of her obvious anguish.
“Diyouchangeyourmindaboutthewedding?” It rushed out of her in one breath and she clung to you harder. You hugged her back, squeezing her smaller frame tightly and caressing her hair.
“Oh sweetie, no! Why would you think that?”
“Cuz I heard you crying and-“ she hiccupped a sob into your shoulder, her voice small when she continued. “Please don’t leave us!”
“Oh bunny!” Your own eyes were starting to water again. “I won’t! I won’t ever leave you! You two are my whole world!”
You squeeze her tightly to you, feel Marcus’ arms enveloping you both and look up briefly to see how he’s doing with all this. The look on his face is heart-breaking, and you lean over quickly to press a reassuring kiss to his lips.
“Then why are you so upset?” Missy sniffled. You sighed and ordered your thoughts, mad at yourself for causing anguish to this girl you’ve grown to love so much.
“It’s sort of a silly thing really.” You began. “You know how I was married before?”
“Yeah.” You’d taken her to see his grave once, just like Marcus and Missy had taken you to meet the previous Mrs Moreno. It felt only right. “You still miss him?”
“Yes. Yes, I do. I always will, but that’s not what made me cry. It was… I feel guilty for being so happy, with you two. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah…no… I don’t know.” Missy scrunched up her nose in thought. She was a smart girl, very mature for her age, but in the end she was still only a twelve-year-old girl.
“You see, when you lose someone you love very much, that grief never really goes away. Like you still miss your mom, right?”
“Every day.” She sniffled a bit less now, and looked up at her father, who nodded silently. “But I’d miss you, too!”
“I know, bunny.” You kissed her forehead, wanting to soothe her. “You won’t ever have to choose between us. Your mom is your mom and that will never change.”
“I don’t want to have to choose.” Missy whispered, wiping her tears away. “But I still want her back.”
“I know, bunny, I know. I want my husband back all the time, too.” You exchanged another glance with Marcus, glad to see that he understood and let you take the lead in this discussion. It warmed your heart to know how unconditionally he trusted you with his daughter. “It’s so unfair, isn’t it? It makes me so angry sometimes that it happened to me.”
“It does?” Missy’s eyes went wide. She turned to her father to confirm and he nodded, mouthing a soft ‘yeah, me too’ to her.
“The point is, it’s okay to feel all these conflicting things. And sometimes they might overwhelm you, like they did me today, and that’s okay too because I have people who are there for me when that happens.”
“You know you can always talk to me, us, about anything. Or grandma. Or your friends.” Marcus hugged her close and wiped away her tears, like he had yours earlier. “And if that’s not enough we will do anything to help you, okay?”
“Okay.” Missy smiled a watery smile, snuggling into her dad while holding your hand close. The three of you huddled together for a few minutes, giving everyone the chance to settle. Missy, being a kid, bounced back fastest.
“Can we have a movie night?” She looked at you both with the big puppy eyes she had inherited from her father and perfected over the course of her young life. You didn’t even need to look at Marcus to know the answer.
“And what movie were you thinking?”
“Mulan!”
“Okay, you prep the TV, I’ll get on the popcorn.” Marcus prompted, motioning for her to go ahead downstairs. She was out of the room with the speed of lightning.
“You sure that kid doesn’t have any powers? Super speed maybe?”
“Positive. You okay, honey?” He cupped your cheek and looked deep into your eyes, gaze searching.
“Positive. This actually really helped.” You smiled and leaned in for a small kiss. “So, I think we’re not too bad at this parenting thing, huh?”
“Are you kidding? You’re amazing at it!” Marcus hugged you close, kissing your forehead and then your cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
---
The reception was in full swing and everyone was enjoying themselves. There had been no mishaps save for the kind that would make for funny stories later and the cake was almost gone. Almost being the operative word. You were in your seat, relieved to be sitting down for a while and re-braiding Missy’s hair where the decorative ribbons and flowers had come loose during the day. Marcus was weaving his way through the guests back to your table, grinning triumphantly.
“Swiped the last slice of cake while Colin wasn’t looking.” You looked behind him to see Miracle Guy frowning at the now empty cake stand.
“Oh darling, you shouldn’t have!” You protested insincerely. It was your wedding after all. You felt you were entitled to some cake.
“He’s already had two!” Marcus put the plate down in front of you and produced some clean cutlery from his pocket. “Besides, anything for my girls.”
“Awww, you’re the best husband and dad!” You pulled him in by his bowtie to press a kiss to his lips.
“Gross.” Missy commented, snatching up one of the small fancy forks and starting to dig in. The two of you paid her no mind, too engrossed in your new marital bliss. You took turns feeding each other cake in between kisses and whispering sweet things, but really Missy got most of it. You didn’t even notice the band switching to a new song. Or the announcement they had made just before that, apparently. At least not until Anita planted herself right in front of your table and brought her cane down hard on the ground.
“You two! Stop canoodling! It’s time for your dance!”
“Mom!” Marcus whined, mostly for show as he was already pulling his tux jacket back on in the same motion, then holding his hand out to you. “May I have this dance, Mrs Moreno?”
“Gladly, Mr Moreno.” You smiled and rose, letting him lead you to the middle of the dancefloor. The band had been stuck playing an intro to your chosen song for several long moments now and launched into it one last time as you took your positions. Aerosmith – I don’t wanna miss a thing. Your song. Marcus took your hand, smiling softly, and when the vocalists started so did you, twirling around the dancefloor. You felt like you were floating, a moment of near perfect happiness.
“I love you so much.” You mouthed to Marcus as he led you across the dancefloor, his hand warm at your waist. He smiled, spun you out and then reeled you back in, closer this time to press a kiss to your temple.
“I love you.” The song ended and you paused for a moment to receive the applause from your guests. The band faded into another song and people started filling the floor around you while you swayed in place for a moment.
“You know, there’s only one thing missing.”
Marcus’s brow furrowed. “What’s that?”
You nodded towards the table where Missy was still sitting, chin in her hands and looking out towards the dancefloor, a picture both wistful and yet a little forlorn. You waved to get her attention, then motioned for her to join you two once that was accomplished. She started, her brow furrowing in the exact same adorable way as her father, then stood hesitantly.
“Come on, bunny!” You called, letting go of Marcus just enough to make space for her. Her whole face lit up and she came running over, long hair swooshing after her. She all but crashed into the two of you, throwing one arm around your waist and the other around Marcus.
“Wanna dance?” You smiled at her, drawing her as close as the volume of your skirt allowed for a little side hug.
“Yes!” She exclaimed, already starting to sway to the music. Marcus surreptitiously wiped at his eyes before hugging the both of you close. It took you all a moment to adjust your footing, but you managed it soon enough. This was truly, absolutely perfect. You could stay lost in this moment forever.
- - -
author’s note: I started this whole thing over like five times, with different concepts and characters, and somehow landed on this. It turned more into bonding with Missy than the pairing, but hey. Hope you’ll still enjoy it.
and yes, I named Miracle Guy Colin. He just looks like a Colin to me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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Hey, gonna bring something dark here (tw: rape), so please do not read further and delete this if it's a trigger for you ❤️
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Did you see what's happening with Pearl Puri? He was arrested for raping a minor? And God, his tag has been trending, with people jumping to his defense.
I've always been vocal about normalizing of problematic, abusive nonsense in our media. We all know ITV is particularly guilty of this, and one of the reasons I've been following your blog for years now is because you also call out this absolute fucking nonsense. I've gotten a lot of flak for how much I call all this out irl- 'separate fiction from reality, don't be such a feminist, stop taking everything so seriously' blah blah blah. I'm completely capable of separating fiction from reality, which is why I let myself watch all this trash for entertainment. I worry because not all audiences can do that. I'm an adult woman capable of critical thinking, but there's no denying that young, impressionable girls are also exposed to this content.
What I worry about is situations like what I'm seeing today- young girls in the tag jumping to his defense, because they've seen his character, and they like him, and interviews mein he seemed sweet. I'm not saying the normalization of toxic content is the sole reason for people reacting like this, but I can't deny that the phrases being used are the same ones used by the same fan accounts to justify toxic characters- 'Feminist agenda to blame men' and 'playing the woman card' and 'men are misunderstood in our society, we must give benefit of doubt.' It's hard to not wonder whether lines between reel and real are getting blurred for some young audiences, and it honest to God terrifies me.
Yes, Pearl could be innocent. But he could also not. Why give him the benefit of doubt, and not the minor girl? When will we start believing victims, and stop throwing the exceedingly rare false cases in their faces? I'm also so disappointed by celebrities jumping in with social media support. If he's your friend and you truly believe him, great, you know him personally so you actually have more grounds to believe him than fangirls who like his interviews. I get it, but support him offline na? I'm sure he can stay away from insta for a few days if the online negativity is such a problem. But this just seems like jumping on the bandwagon of a trending topic, when investigation is ongoing. I have seen Anita Hassanandani, Ekta Kapoor, Surbhi Jyoti, Karishma Tanna, Nia Sharma...all these women come to his defense...stay the hell out till the investigation happens, and then do all these #truthwins crap.
Idk how I feel about all this, but it's certainly disheartening. I'm sorry again for bringing all this to your inbox, so please, do feel fully free to delete this message and not respond. Love always to you ❤️
Hi friend!
I certainly appreciate the trigger warning and the consideration in your message. 💞💞💞
I mean, you said everything that I am thinking and feeling. I think as a viewer, I am okay to consume this kind of trash because I am constantly (over)analyzing everything I consume. I am also very very aware that I don’t know a lot of things due to my upper-caste cishet privilege and thus am constantly open to learning. If one is not that kind of discerning, and not doing that kinda work to educate themselves, then they frankly shouldn’t be watching this crap coz lord, the amount of brain rot I am seeing due to people not being able to differentiate between onscreen and off.
I simply do not understand why people can’t get over their bias to think about the sheer power dynamic in this case: he’s a rich celebrity with tons of support from influential people, and the victim is/was a MINOR. Even if the accusation is false, what has he suffered? Literally nothing. He spent a few hours in jail and then will be vindicated. What if the accusation is true? The victim has gone through so much more; a crime of a sexual nature, WHILE BEING UNDERAGE, and then no doubt lots of persecution when filing a report against someone so powerful, and now a social media pile-on, and a trauma that they will have to work on their whole life to overcome. It’s literally not comparable. Fuck people who cannot understand this kinda basic concept.
I’m tired, i’m just fucking tired of it all. I just can wish power to those who have suffered and continue to suffer. May they be believed, may they receive justice, and in the process, if all of this fakeass, meaningless glitz and glamour burns down to the ground to never ever rise again, so fucking be it.
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Summary: As a Father and King, Phillip helps Audrey navigate some inner turmoil after Ben announces Maleficent’s Daughter will be invited to Auradon.
Aurora, Phillip, & Audrey AU
—
The Brooding Tree
Coming home to a brooding wife was never a good thing. Phillip learned this early on, as his dear Briar Rose had the ability to brood with the best of them. But coming home to both a brooding wife, and a brooding teenage daughter? Well. That was just bizarre. Removing his cloak as he stepped in the door to Fairy Cottage, Rose was sitting at the table. Phillip expected as much; there weren’t many places she could hide anyway.
“Any particular reason Little Dove is up in the brooding tree?” Phillip asked her innocently, hanging up his hat and satchel next to his cloak. The large oak outside was one of Audrey’s favorite places to sit; normally when she was thinking deeply about something. Similarly, this chair at the kitchen table was Rose’s special spot, and she merely gave a little sigh into her teacup. That wasn’t a good sign at all.
“It wasn’t your mother again, was it?” Phillip asked with a grimace, “or boy issues?”
Rose shook her head, still gently tapping chipped porcelain with French tips. Phillip rubbed his smooth chin with a hand.
“It was...erm, girl trouble, then?”
His awkwardness around the subject of ‘girl trouble’ brought a smile to his wife’s face as she chuckled under her breath.
“I’m sorry, my love. It’s...it’s something I think you need to ask Audrey about.”
“Oh,” Phillip furrowed his brows slightly, “so, it’s something serious?”
“I’m not sure of that myself, to be honest,” Rose admitted lightly, “would you talk to her please? I’ll make more tea,”
Making tea was Rose’s secret code for ‘this might take a while’, so Phillip merely nodded. Before leaving to deal with Audrey, he hugged his wife from behind, inhaling the scent of her hair and skin. She merely hummed a bit in response, accepting the little peck on the lips he offered before returning to her task. Resting both hands behind his head in a subtle stretch, Phillip left the cottage to face the Brooding Tree.
He wasn’t quite as spry as he was in his youth, so it took a bit of effort to scramble his way up into the thick branches. Audrey, as he expected her to be, was nestled in the canopy. She had one leg dangling over the edge, bare foot rocking back and forth as she stroked a small squirrel which had made its way into her lap. Audrey, like her mother, had a special way with woodland creatures. She looked deeply pensive about something, though didn’t seem to be in any sort of anguish. No tears was a bit worrying.
“Little Dove, I wish you’d choose a lower branch,” Phillip complained as he shifted into a spot close to her side, “I’m not as young as I used to be,”
Audrey didn’t say anything, merely turned to look at him. Now, face to face, Phillip could tell she was trying hard not to cry, “oh, Audrey. What’s going on?”
“Ben...he...he told me about...about what his first Kingly proclamation is going to be,” Audrey managed though hiccuping breaths, the water already brimming at the edges of her eyes. It made Phillip’s gut twist, seeing his daughter trying so hard to stay strong despite being upset. No wonder Aurora wasn’t out here. If that happened, he’d have come home to two beautiful bawling women. Cause he knew when one started to cry, so did the other. Like mother like daughter, he supposed.
“What was it?” Phillip urged her, “the proclamation?”
Audrey inhaled hard, beginning to sniffle. If they weren’t in such a precarious position, Phillip would’ve scooped her up into his big arms in a second, “I know it’s hard, but please try and tell me, Little Dove,”
It took a minute, but Audrey reeled in her composure with a few long, shaky breaths. Phillip was proud of her, being able to pull herself together so well. But there wasn’t anything wrong with being upset. Especially when he hadn’t seen her so wound up since she was little. Clearly whatever Ben had decided wasn’t sitting well with his little Princess, and Phillip wanted to wring his neck for it.
“Ben said that...he wants to bring some kids over from the Isle of the Lost. T-to attend Auradon Prep this year,” Audrey managed finally, watching the squirrel leave her lap with longing eyes, as though she wanted to follow it and vanish even higher up into the leaves.
“The children of Villains, living among us,” Phillip mused, “a bold choice for a first Kingly decision,”
“I thought so. B-but I didn’t think it was such a horrible idea; the children are innocent,”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” Phillip agreed, “but there was something else, I’m assuming?”
Audrey blinked nodded mutely, folding her hands in her lap. Phillip waited patiently for her to continue, shuffling into a more comfortable position in the tree. His body would be sore all over tomorrow, but he’d slay a million dragons if it would bring a smile back to Audrey’s face.
“The son of Jafar, the Son of Cruella, the Daughter of the Evil Queen...” Audrey paused for a moment, appearing to hesitate, “and the Daughter of Maleficent,”
Phillip nearly fell out of the tree, and Audrey’s composure finally shattered as she began to cry, holding an arm across her eyes as she wept quietly. The evil fairy’s name was enough to send her spiraling. No wonder Rose was so...subdued. No doubt she had her own bout of sobbing before Phillip had arrived home.
“Maleficent,” Phillip scoffed, running a hand through his hair, “and he didn’t even ask if that was ok with you?”
Audrey shook her head negatively as Phillip clenched his fists. Ben was young still, which made him stupid. He was pressing against a very fine line with a stunt like this. Auroria - a combination of the two smaller kingdoms of Rosalia (Stephan & Leah’s Kingdom) and Westminshire (Hubert’s Kingdom) - was one of Auradon’s biggest allies in trade and military power. If either Stephan or Hubert saw Audrey right now, sobbing in a tree because of Ben and his big mouth, they’d bring war on the young King’s head in a second.
“It’s...it’s not what you think,” Audrey spoke up, drawing Phillip back from his own short moment of brooding. She looked better now; a bit puffy eye’d but no longer straining to keep it all contained, “I think they should come,”
“You want Maleficent’s daughter here in Auradon?” Phillip asked her, a smidge puzzled as Audrey shrugged.
“It means a lot to Ben. And he’s right that the children don’t deserve the same judgement as their parents,”
“Wise words,” Phillip complemented her, “so what’s eating you?”
“I’m...not sure,” Audrey admitted, wiping at her nose, clearly frustrated at being unable to articulate exactly what she had on her mind.
“What is your gut telling you, then?” Phillip suggested. They did this practice a lot while riding. Relying on your eyes and your head was all well and good, but sometimes pure gut instinct was all one needed. Audrey thought for a moment, feeling herself out.
“Nothing. It’s all just anxiety,” she said finally, “nervousness? Not...not about the idea of Isle Kids coming over. But something...something else,” Audrey pouted a bit in frustration, “I’ve known Ben forever, even if we aren’t super close anymore. He knows how badly Maleficent scarred you both, and how she hurt Grammy and Grandpas. Yet he chose her daughter anyway, out of all the other villains. Knowing full well how I’d react,”
Audrey shifted to where she straddled the branch, leaning forward on both hands as she traced the bark with her eyes. She had moved from tears to agitation, which was a good sign that she was finally navigating the mess that was her thoughts. She took medication for it, a small little pill to help things clear up, but they weren’t always enough to smooth out the wrinkles, “I bet King Beast wouldn’t have allowed it if Ben had chosen Gaston’s child to come to Auradon,”
“A keen observation,” Phillip agreed, kicking one leg over the other as the discussion turned political, “and what of the other Kingdoms?”
“Both Agrabah and Shimmervale are small compared to Auradon,” Audrey told him, “Sultana Jasmine and Queen Snow White could do little if not gripe to the crown about the decision. Anita and Rodger, as sweet and good natured as they are, don’t even have a Kingdom. Let alone an heir. The risk was low for the other three,”
“So why do you think Ben chose Maleficent?”
Audrey thought for a moment as Phillip watched. Her brilliant mind was flicking a million miles a minute; he could see it on her face. Finally her expression turned grave.
“To make a statement at the expense of Auroria,” she decided, “rather then having to deal with King Beast,”
“Very possible, yes,” Phillip agreed with her, “was this the best decision for Ben to make?”
“No,” Audrey insisted immediately, “Ben should’ve kept the risk internal, as to not threaten ties to one of Auradon’s biggest allies. I could give the word and Grandpas would turn the cannons on Auradon.”
Audrey was correct, if not a tad bit harsh in her assumptions. Phillip knew one day should would make an excellent, if not ferocious, Queen. Certainly not one to cross swords with. But such harshness could be dangerous in a ruler (Leah for instance), and so Phillip interjected.
“On a purely political level, you are correct, Little Dove. But what does your heart tell you about Ben’s decision?”
Audrey sat back, letting off a bit of steam as she pondered the new question. She was excellent at complex puzzles, and a wiz at chess. Phillip could never beat her. But if he could appeal to the soft side of her, inherited from his wife, she was able to balance out her own scales. Audrey had plenty of weak points, if one simply knew where to look.
“He probably just wanted to impress his dad,” Audrey admitted, “bringing a child of Gaston would’ve upset him. You know how infamous the Beast Family Temper can be. But making amends with an heir to Maleficent? Talk about fitting the crown,”
“I concur,” Phillip smiled, “so, what will our next move be? We could block from the front, make our displeasure with Ben’s choice known and possibly stir up some misgivings between allies. Or we allow this to go forward. Give the word and we go straight to Auradon and nip this thing,”
“I...” Audrey hesitated for a moment, pursing her lips, “I think we should allow it,” Audrey decided finally, “let Ben impress his dad. And if something goes wrong, it will be his own mistake for which he’ll have to learn. But we make direct contact with Agrabah and Shimmervale beforehand, promising protection and military aid should something go wrong.”
“And why should we do that? You said it yourself they are small kingdoms.”
“If something does happen, having strong ties with all of our allies will be beneficial. Especially if the crown becomes unfavorable. The children of the Isle deserve a chance to be here, and I know Ben’s just trying to do what he thinks is righteous. And, should he succeed, I don’t want to be the one trying to halt progress,”
Phillip grinned, overflowing with pride as Audrey’s lips finally upturned into a small, if not tired smile. She would probably need a solid nap after such mental and emotional turmoil, but making her own choice on the matter would at least bring her some peace.
“I think that is a wise and well informed decision,” Phillip agreed, “a ruler needs to be fair and impartial, but that doesn’t mean pushing your feelings away. That will leave a choice shallow, and with possible side effects. Impartiality, but still empathetic.” smiling at one another in the tree, Phillip groaned and stretched out his arms, “why don’t we head inside? Maman made tea, and you and I have some correspondence to write.”
“Ugh papa, not the scrolls,” Audrey groaned, “I don’t understand why we can’t just send emails.”
“Hey, scrolls are a tradition,” Phillip insisted, watching Audrey as she began her quick and easy clamber back down the tree, “there’s more power in one handwritten scroll then a dozen emails.”
“It’s ancient,” Audrey laughed, waiting by the base of the tree as Phillip jumped down beside her, “maybe I could convince Ben to make emails more official when he becomes King,”
“You do that,” Phillip teased, ruffling his daughters ponytail as she huffed girlishly. From the cottage window, Aurora was watching them both fondly. She was using her favorite pink tea cup, meaning she too had found some sort of inner peace while Phillip dealt with Audrey. And as the pair headed inside for some lunch and writing, the father knew that his daughter would be a wise and just ruler someday. Phillip also knew one other thing.
Never doubt the Brooding Tree.
#descendants#disney descendants#descendants fanfiction#alternate universe#audrey rose#disney fanfiction#family fluff
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Coming in April!
NEW 2020 1080p HD masters JOSIE AND THE PUSSYCATS IN OUTER SPACE
Run Time 352:00
Subtitles English SDH
Audio Specs DTS HD-Master Audio 2.0 - English, MONO - English
Aspect Ratio 1.33:1 4x3 FULL FRAME
Product Color COLOR
Disc Configuration 2 BD 50
Rock stars Josie and the Pussycats are out of this world...literally! When the bumbling Alexandra accidentally launches Josie and the gang into outer space, they travel through the galaxy searching for a path back to Earth. Along the way, they meet cat people, robot monsters, evil dictators, space pirates and plenty of strange creatures, including their new companion Bleep, voiced by Hanna-Barbera legend Don Messick. Fortunately, everyone’s a fan of Josie and the Pussycats, including aliens! Rocket through the universe with your favorite superstars as they save the day, sing some songs and have a hip-happenin’ good time in a 2-disc, 16-episode Josie and the Pussycats in Outer Space complete series collection that hits all the right notes!
NEW 2021 1080p HD Master Sourced from 4K scan of preservation film elements!
GREEN DOLPHIN STREET
Run Time 141:00
Subtitles English SDH
Audio Specs: DTS HD-Master Audio 2.0 - English, MONO - English
Aspect Ratio: 1.37:1 4x3 FULL FRAME
Product Color BLACK & WHITE
Disc Configuration BD 50
Special Features: Lux Radio Theater Broadcast; Theatrical Trailer (HD)
The Academy Award® winner about star-crossed love that spans the years – and the globe. After her triumph as the lunchroom temptress in the crime classic The Postman Always Rings Twice, Lana Turner expanded her range with Green Dolphin Street. Set in 19th century Europe and New Zealand, this sweeping romance tells the story of two beautiful sisters, one headstrong (Turner) and one gentle (Donna Reed), and of the man (Richard Hart) who marries one even though he loves the other. The film’s riptides of emotion are matched by breathtaking physical tumult: a fierce Maori uprising plus a catastrophic earthquake and tidal wave that earned the film a 1947 Oscar® for special effects. With its dramatic story and spectacular visuals, Green Dolphin Street drew huge audiences for epic moviemaking, being one of the top-ten box office hits of the year.
NEW 2021 1080p HD Master Sourced from 4K scan of Nitrate preservation elements!
BROADWAY MELODY OF 1940
Run Time 102:00
Subtitles English SDH
Audio Specs: DTS HD-Master Audio 2.0 - English, MONO - English
Aspect Ratio: 1.37:1 4x3 FULL FRAME
Product Color BLACK & WHITE
Disc Configuration BD 50
Special Features: Making-of Featurette: "Begin the Beguine" (hosted by Ann Miller); "Our Gang Comedies: The Big Premiere"; MGM Cartoon: "The Milky Way" ; Original Theatrical Trailer (HD)
The job – a career breakthrough – is supposed to go to hoofer Johnny Brett, but a mix-up in names gives it to his partner. Another example of Broadway hopes dashed? Not when Johnny is played by Fred Astaire. Sparkling Cole Porter songs, clever comedy and dance legends Astaire and Eleanor Powell make the final Broadway Melody (co-starring George Murphy) a film to remember. Powell’s nautical “All Ashore" routine (a/k/a I Am the Captain”), Astaire’s blissful “I’ve Got My Eyes on You” and Fred & Eleanor's elaborate routine to Cole Porter's classic "I Concentrate On You" are more than enough to please any fan. But they’re just a warm-up for the leads to tap one finale number into immortality: “Begin the Beguine,” introduced by Frank Sinatra in That’s Entertainment! with, “You can wait around and hope, but you’ll never see the likes of this again.”
NEW 2021 1080p HD Master Sourced from a new 4K restoration of the last-known surviving nitrate Technicolor print!
DOCTOR X (1932)
Run Time 76:00
Subtitles English SDH
Audio Specs: DTS HD-Master Audio 2.0 - English, MONO - English
Aspect Ratio: 1.37:1 4x3 FULL FRAME
Product Color COLOR; BLACK & WHITE
Disc Configuration BD 50
Special Features: Alternate B&W version of feature; DOCTOR X (HD): UCLA Before & After Restoration featurette (HD); New documentary: "Monsters and Mayhem: The Horror Films of Michael Curtiz (HD); New feature commentary by author/film historian Alan K. Rode; Archival feature commentary by Scott MacQueen, head of preservation, UCLA Film and Television Archive. Original B&W Theatrical Trailer (HD)
Is there a (mad) doctor in the house? “Yes!” shrieks Doctor X, filmed in rare two-strip Technicolor®. An eminent scientist aims to solve a murder spree by re-creating the crimes in a lab filled with all the dials, gizmos, bubbling beakers and crackling electrostatic charges essential to the genre. Lionel Atwill is Doctor Xavier, pre-King Kong scream queen Fay Wray is a distressed damsel and Lee Tracy snaps newshound patter, all under the direction of renowned Michael Curtiz. The new two-color Technicolor master was restored by UCLA Film and Television Archive and The Film Foundation in association with Warner Bros. Entertainment. Funding provided by the Hobson/Lucas Foundation. Also includes the separately filmed B&W version (which has been restored and restored from its original nitrate camera negative) originally intended for small U.S. markets and International distribution, and which has been out of distribution for over 30 years.
NEW 2021 1080p HD Master Sourced from 4K scan of original nitrate Technicolor negatives!
ANNIE GET YOUR GUN (1950)
Run Time 107:00
Subtitles English SDH
Sound Quality DTS HD-Master Audio 2.0 - English
Aspect Ratio 1.37:1 4x3 FULL FRAME
Product Color COLOR
Disc Configuration BD 50
Special Features: Susan Lucci retrospective & intro piece (from 2000 DVD release); Outtakes: Let’s Go West Again-Betty Hutton, Doin’ What Comes Natur’lly-Judy Garland, I’m an Indian, Too-Judy Garland, Colonel Buffalo Bill with Howard Keel and Frank Morgan; Stereo audio pre-recording session tracks including There’s No Business Like Show Business featuring Judy Garland; Theatrical Re-issue Trailer (HD)
Betty Hutton (as Annie Oakley) and Howard Keel (as Frank Butler) star in this sharpshootin’ funfest based on the 1,147-performance Broadway smash boasting Irving Berlin’s beloved score, including “Doin’ What Comes Natur’lly,” “I Got the Sun in the Morning” and the anthemic “There’s No Business Like Show Business.” As produced by Arthur Freed, directed by George Sidney, and seen and heard in this new remastered HD presentation, this lavish, spirited production showcases songs and performances with bull’s-eye precision, earning an Oscar®* for adaptation scoring. The story is a brawling boy-meets-girl-meets-buckshot rivalry. But love finally triumphs when Annie proves that, yes, you can get a man with a gun!
NEW 2021 1080p HD Master! QUICK CHANGE (1990)
Run Time 88:00
Subtitles English SDH
Sound Quality DTS HD-Master Audio 2.0 - English
Aspect Ratio 1.85:1, 16 X 9 WIDESCREEN
Product Color COLOR
Disc Configuration BD 25
Special Feature: Theatrical Trailer
The star of Caddyshack, Ghostbusters and Groundhog Day headlines and codirects this uproarious Big Apple heist-and-pursuit caper. Bill Murray plays Grimm, a frazzled urbanite who disguises himself as a clown – and sets out to rob a bank. Geena Davis and Randy Quaid play accomplices in Grimm’s daring scheme and Jason Robards is the blustery cop caught up in Grimm’s “Clown Day Afternoon.” Swiping a million bucks is a snap compared to getting out of town. Grimm and cohorts commandeer a car, a cab, a bus, a baggage tram and a plane (and encounter future stars Stanley Tucci and Tony Shalhoub in hilarious supporting roles) to make what becomes a less-than-merry escape. But for comedy lovers, Quick Change is a ticket to ride!
NEW 2021 1080p HD Master Sourced from 4K scan of best surviving nitrate preservation elements! EACH DAWN I DIE (1939)
Run Time 92:00
Subtitles English SDH
Audio Specs: DTS HD-Master Audio 2.0 - English, MONO - English
Aspect Ratio: 1.37:1 4x3 FULL FRAME
Product Color BLACK & WHITE
Disc Configuration BD 50
Special Features: Warner Night at the Movies including 1939 Short Subjects Gallery: Vintage Newsreel, WB Technicolor Short: "A Day at Santa Anita", WB Cartoon: "Detouring America"; Restrospective featurette: "Stool Pigeons and Pine Overcoats: The Language of Gangster Films" ; Feature Commentary by Film Historian Haden Guest; Breakdowns of 1939: Studio Blooper Reel; WB Cartoon: "Each Dawn I Crow"; Radio show w/George Raft & Franchot Tone; Trailer for "Wings of the Navy" and Original Theatrical Trailer for Each Dawn I Die (HD)
Framed for manslaughter after he breaks a story about city corruption, reporter Frank Ross is sure he’ll prove his innocence and walk out of prison a free man. But that’s not how the system works at Rocky Point Penitentiary. There, cellblock guards are vicious, the jute-mill labor is endless, and the powers Ross fought on the outside conspire to keep him in. Frank’s hope is turned to hopelessness. And he’s starting to crack. Two of the screen’s famed tough guys star in this prison movie that casts a reform-minded eye on the brutalizing effects of life in the slammer. James Cagney “hits a white-hot peak as [Ross,] the embittered, stir-crazy fall guy” (Leonard Maltin’s Movie Guide). And George Raft (Cagney’s friend since their vaudeville days) portrays racketeer Hood Stacey, who may hold the key to springing Ross.
NEW 2021 1080p HD Master Sourced from 4K scan of best surviving preservation elements!
ANOTHER THIN MAN (1939)
Run Time 102:00
Subtitles English SDH
Audio Specs: DTS HD-Master Audio 2.0 - English, MONO - English
Aspect Ratio: 1.37:1 4x3 FULL FRAME
Product Color BLACK & WHITE
Disc Configuration BD 50
Special Features: M-G-M Musical Short: Love on Tap; Classic M-G-M Cartoon: The Bookworm
Dum-Dum, Wacky, Creeps, Fingers: They’re just a few of the hoodlums in the world of amateur sleuths and professional bon vivants Nick and Nora Charles. And now there’s a new hood: parenthood. A birthday – make that boithday – party that some of da boys hold for infant Nick Jr. is part of the fun in this third film in the witty series. The case begins when the Charles family arrives for a weekend with a Long Island industrialist who fears someone wants to kill him. Sure enough, his fears come true. Nick (William Powell) is among the suspects. Asta scrams with what may be the murder weapon. And Nora (Myrna Loy) has her own ideas about the case and sneaks off to a nightclub to ferret out a clue. “Madam, how long have you been leading this double life?” Nick asks. “Just since we’ve been married,” she replies.
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34+ Voiceover Roles & 3 Musician Open Calls - Work From Home - Paid
'F*cking Sober' Podcast
22 + Roles
3 Open Calls for Musicians With Their Own Music
PAID WORK FROM HOME NON UNION
Deadline : September 15, 2021 2:00 PM
Somehow9am Productions // F*cking Sober: the first 90 days Podcast
Katie Mack, coord.
:"A call for artists in recovery for the 2nd Season of The Webby Award Winning Podcast Series 'F*cking Sober: the first 90 days.' We are looking for voice over talent and musicians/music producers for 'FS: Shadai.'
'F*cking Sober' is a semi-comedic mostly non-fictional narrative podcast following Shadai’s first 90 days of getting sober. Thirty-five year old Shadai is the black, queer, strong female in advertising— so what if she keeps shots in her bra for between meetings, right? But after a shitshow holiday party, a fuzzy cop encounter, and a disaster presentation with the new big account, Dry January doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. Maybe Dry Forever is better. This is what it looks, acts, and feels like to get f*cking sober. This 8 episode serialized show features music by artists with their own story with recovery.
F*cking Sober Season 1: Anita has received 15k downloads since it’s release in Nov 2020, and received a 2021 Webby Nomination for Best Limited Series, and a Webby Win for Best Writing for a Podcast.
At this time we are only looking to work with artists who have a relationship/understanding of recovery. Please follow instructions for submitting and what to include in the cover letter to be considered! Thank you!
Listen to Season 1 to get the vibe:
https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/f-cking-sober-the-first-90-days/id1538804959?i=1000499155627
And check out:
www.fckingsoberpodcast.com
@fckingsober90_podcast
More information about Somehow9am Productions & Katie Mack (Producer):
www.somehow9amproductions.com
www.mackstage.com"
Roles
Shadai (Voiceover): Female, 18+WORK FROM HOMEproduction states: "Note: We are only accepting submissions from artists who have their own story in recovery, TY!
35 year old, black, queer, cis gender female attorney with a dry sense of humor, who has strong opinions and shares them sometimes, is a powerhouse and knows it all… until… until she doesn’t.
Please note your experience with improv/comedy in your cover letter
If you have writing experience or are interested in writing please note this in your cover letter. We will be giving writing credits to the right candidate who desires to contribute to the molding of this character."Required Media: Voice Reel
Other Characters (Voiceover): 20-70
"Note: We are only accepting submissions from artists who have their own story in recovery, TY!
We are looking for diversity in every sense of the word, from all genders, to ages, to ethnicities, to lived experiences, to food preferences!! In short, we are looking to cast dope, interesting people.
Looking to cast various characters through out the S2 Shadai, including but not limited to:
Dad (black, army veteran, a dad’s dad)
Mom (black, hyper critical, the opposite of Shadai)
Dana (any ethnicity, work enemy)
Coco (white, work bestie)
JewBoo aka Therapist (Jewish, confidant, motherly, with a special sense of humor)
Miriam (black, best friend and ex-lover who tells it like it is)
Galen (white, gay, best friend who is warm and caring and pushy)
15 other characters
Please note any experience you may have with comedy/improv if any. Please submit your reel along with your cover letter."Required Media: Voice Reel, Cover Letter
Musicians (BIPOC Artists in Recovery) (Voiceover): 18+ music from BIPOC identifying artists.
Musicians (Queer Identifying Artist in Recovery) (Voiceover): 18+ music by Queer Artists.
Musicians (Non-BIPOC/Non-Queer Artists in Recovery) (Voiceover): 18+ music from non-BIPOC or non-Queer Identifying Artists in recovery.
"To be produced over the course of October 2021 - January 2022
Shadai’s commitment is estimated at two hrs/wk. Other characters 30mins.
Musicians, all work should already exist. Please be prepared to send stems or stripped down tracks."
Compensation & Union Contract Details
Stipend: $25 - $75Production states: "Shadai (Lead Character), $550 for full season.
All Other Characters: $25-$50 per episode.
Musicians: $25-$75 per song per episode. Sync license contract."
Seeking talent: Nationwide (United States)
Website:http://www.fckingsoberpodcast.com
======================================
'Rain: Series III'
12 Voiceover Roles
PAID WORK FROM HOME NONUNION
Deadline: September 14, 2021 8:59 PM
JKPRising James Klim, filmmaker
Seeking voiceover talent for "Rain: Series III," a web-series, created in the video game Halo Reach on MCC via Xbox/PC.
"This series will have a total of 13 episodes. I have many characters to cast, 12 specifically. If you wish to learn more about the show, you can check out my documentary series regarding the show.
You can view the first episode here - www.youtube.com/watch?v=AlzPQvJS3og
A little bit about me, I am a freelance filmmaker who actually got into film through making Halo videos as a kid when I was younger. You can check out some of my work here - www.jkprising.com/
I've always wanted to return to my roots & finish a series I was never able to before, but now I have the time to focus on it.
This is a paid position.
Rates depend on each character as some have more lines than others & vice versa. I am not the wealthiest person in the world, but I will to compensate each voice actor for their performance. My budget per character is between $100 - $300. This again, all varies per character.
In this post, there is a video of what the character will look like in the series. I have also attached a single page from a random episode script from the show. The highlighted lines are what the character will say. There will also be non verbal lines highlighted, this is meant to be voiced kind of like an anime, where every movement usually has sounds. Typically, how would you make a sound if you did any of the following, head turn, turns around, surprised gasp, sighs, etc.
Since this a paid gig, I am expecting a professional voice audition & if hired, continued professional audio. This means minimum to no background noise. The audio needs to be crisp."
Roles
Chloe Moody (Voiceover): Female, 18-35WORK FROM HOME29. Voice type: English/United Kingdom accent, polite, doesn't get mad often but when she does, she loses it, anxious, low self esteem, hopeful.
Chloe Moody used to be a psychiatrist, but after the death of her soon to be husband, she spiraled into insanity. She met someone later on in life named Tom Rains, who looked exactly like her dead boyfriend. She became obsessed with him & tried to get with him, which sunk her further into a deep depression. She finally hit rock bottom, which causes her to seek out help from the very people she used to serve. Chloe meets a psychiatrist named Jennifer, who is able to help herself almost fully recover. Chloe eventually accidently runs back into Tom, which triggers Chloe to try one last time. After a final rejection, Chloe comes to the realization that she is not redeemable & decides to take her own life in front of Tom. Chloe's death, triggers a massive event for Tom Rains, which has massive ramifications for the series.
Chloe is a major character and will appear in a couple episodes.Languages:
English
Accents:
British
Australian
Voice Styles:
Soft
Softspoken
Crazy
Compassionate
Sad
Angry
Required Media: Voice Reel
Dark Daryl (Voiceover): Male, 18-40WORK FROM HOME
32, voice type: Very dark presence, evil. sadistic, look at examples like Yami Marik from the Original Yu-Gi-Oh - www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xaa_ycud6o, manic, darkness.
Dark Daryl is the darkness of his original persona, Daryl. Daryl accidentally acquired a powerful technology known as an imperium. This caused Daryl to lose himself to it at some point & was taken over by an alternate personality named, The Professor, which caused tons of damage. When Daryl came back to his senses, the damage had been done & others abandoned him, which caused him to grow angry at something that he didn't consciously do. Daryl once again loses himself to the imperium, which turns into Dark Daryl, a representation of all the anger & hatred he endured over the course of his past uncontrollable actions. Dark Daryl is very aggressive, sadistic & wants to destroy the people who wronged him in the past. Eventually, he comes face to face with Daryl & fights to stay as the one who remains in control, even if that means killing Daryl & anyone who gets in his way.
Dark Daryl is a character who appears in the second half of the show, & becomes the series main villain. He will appear in many episodes.
Languages:
English
Voice Styles:
Aggressive
Angry
Evil
Commanding
Straightforward
Scary
Dangerous
Intimidating
Demonic
Required Media: Voice Reel
Nikki (Voiceover): Female, 18-35 WORK FROM HOME
25. Voice type: Energetic, passionate, caring, open-minded, loving, positive, independent, fighter.
Nikki used to date Tom Rains. She didn't really have much going for her, as she had no ambition at all during that time of her life. After Tom broke up with her, this was quite the shock to Nikki. It caused her to really dive deep within herself & from that moment, she tried to learn more about herself. She discovered a love for storytelling, & so went into journalism. Nikki is now dating Jennifer & they have been together for almost a year. Nikki eventually gets wrapped up in a major conspiracy, which drags many of her friends in with her. She is in for the story of her entire career.
Nikki is a major character and will appear in many episodes.
Languages:
English
Voice Styles:
Comforting
Compassionate
Caring
Amusing
Animated
Brave
Heroic
Required Media: Voice Reel
Talent works remotely with professional recording equipment.
Professional Pay: $100 - $300Pays between $100-$300 depending on character.
Nationwide (United States)
Additional Materials
Website: https://www.jkprising.com/
Nikki Audition.pdf - https://d26oc3sg82pgk3.cloudfront.net/files/media/uploads/casting_call/7f95c65b-ab53-43d3-a66b-9e59d1041acb.pdf
Dark Daryl Audition.pdf - https://d26oc3sg82pgk3.cloudfront.net/files/media/uploads/casting_call/00cfdf46-84c1-4da6-9dee-91c7bcdeed3d.pdf
Chloe Moody Audition.pdf https://d26oc3sg82pgk3.cloudfront.net/files/media/uploads/casting_call/186cbe9e-9c7e-4ce5-bcbe-2407a9dec00b.pdf
#voiceover casting calls#work from home voice over work#music wanted online#jobs for musicians#remote jobs for musicians#music writer jobs#gigs for recovering addicts
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How The Rolling Stones’ Exile on Main Street Earned Its Rep
https://ift.tt/3v9EdsV
Apple TV+’s docuseries 1971: The Year That Music Changed Everything makes it seem like The Rolling Stones’ Exile On Main Street album was more fun to record than listen to, and that sets a high standard. The record distills the band’s sounds, from acoustic world music political ballads, through deep heartfelt blues, to honky tonk so funky you have to shake your ass. The group plays country, Southern blues, R&B, and the almost-punk-before-punk “Rip This Joint.” “Tumbling Dice,” is a radio staple. Keith Richards even took the lead vocals on a track to keep you happy. There was so much material, it came out as a double album. What could be more fun than that?
Richards’ Nellcôte mansion, on the Côte d’Azur in the South of France, was the hardest rocking musical getaway paradise in 1971. It was a Rock and Roll Main Street, and even the most mainstream players mainlined the exile vibe. Guitar god Eric Clapton and underground country legend Gram Parsons mixed drinks and drugs with movie stars like James Caan and Faye Dunaway, while playwright Terry Southern stopped taking note, according to Robert Greenfield’s book Exile on Main Street: A Season In Hell With The Rolling Stones.
William S. Burroughs inspired Mick Jagger to cut and paste a word collage together to form the lyrics to “Casino Boogie.” Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr dropped by the almost-week-long afterparty for Jagger’s wedding to Nicaraguan-born model Bianca Pérez Morena de Macias in Saint-Tropez. John Lennon, who was on methadone treatment, reputedly threw up at the foot of the grand staircase and passed out in it.
“The sunshine bores the daylights out of me,” Jagger sings on “Rocks Off,” the album’s opening song. The Rolling Stones strolled through their recent past darkly. The murder of Meredith Hunter at the Altamont speedway concert in late 1969 signaled, to many, the death of decade’s peace-and-love counterculture. But the band’s troubles went all the way back to the Redlands drug bust of 1967, and the death of Brian Jones. Adversity worked well, creatively, for the Stones, and they continued to pump out classics like “Gimme Shelter” in 1969, and controversy like “Brown Sugar” in 1971. Sticky Fingers, their ninth album, hung nicely at the top of the charts on both sides of the Atlantic.
The songs, and Allen Klein’s aggressive managerial money-making maneuvers, put the band in the 93% tax bracket for Britain’s highest earners. The Stones owed more than they could pay. To avoid penalties, they moved to France. Mick went to Paris. Mick Taylor, Bill Wyman and Charlie Watts bought or rented places along the French Riviera. Richards and his girlfriend, German-Italian actress and model Anita Pallenberg, moved into Nellcôte, a villa in Villefranche-sur-Mer, near Nice. During the Nazi occupation of France during World War II, the seaside mansion was the headquarters of the local Gestapo. Swastikas were carved into floor vents, staircases and ventilator grates.
Read more
Culture
How Tina Turner and Frank Zappa Whipped Up Some Dirty Love
By Tony Sokol
As pointed out in 1971: The Year That Music Changed Everything, the Stones had recently signed with Atlantic Records, and the label wanted an album. The band scoured the Riviera for a suitable recording studio, but wound up parking their mobile studio next to Keith’s house. Richards transformed the basement into a recording studio, and the band stole electricity from the railway tracks across the street to power amplifiers and the mobile recording truck.
The layout wasn’t the best. Bill Wyman, who is only credited for eight of the album’s songs on bass, plugged into an amp which was mic’d up in the hallway. Producer Jimmy Miller ended each take by running from the truck into the basement to check sound. The humidity caused the guitars to go out of tune. This gave the album its working title: “Tropical Disease.” The song “Ventilator Blues” was inspired by the conditions.
The band also had to deal with Keith’s erratic schedule. “I never plan anything,” Richards says in the documentary Stones in Exile. “Mick needs to know what he’s going to do tomorrow. Whereas I’m just happy to wake up and see who’s hanging around. Mick’s rock; I’m roll.” Richards, Taylor, Watts, pianist Nicky Hopkins, saxophonist Bobby Keys, drummer Jimmy Miller, and horn player Jim Price would jam all night while engineer Andy Johns ran the reels. Sessions would start when the guitarist rolled out of bed, or before he slipped off to put his son Marlon to sleep. After that Keith might pull a disappearing act, playing guitar in the un-mic’d second floor bathroom, or passing out. Richards was open about pot and alcohol, sharing liberally, but quiet about his heroin use.
Richards got clean in the spring of 1971, but hurt his back in a go-kart accident, according to Greenfield’s book. His vehicle flipped while racing his friend Tommy Weber at a track in Cannes. Richards took morphine for the pain, and within a few months, was using again. For sessions, he’d down a Mandrax, which is like a Quaalude, with whiskey. Charlie Watts was drinking brandy until he was past sloppy, and Jagger was taking speed to keep up with the hours Keith set. It was Richards’ place, and Mick was almost a hostage. When he left, it seemed nothing got done. Richards, left alone, could be downright dangerous. He almost burned himself, Anita and the entire house down when he fell asleep with a lit cigarette.
Richards was buying pure, uncut heroin from Castilian dealers. He was getting it by the kilo, and it became part of the social regimen of the villa. He shared so regularly with Gram Parsons that Mick got jealous, professionally. Parsons wanted Richards to produce his next album and join him on tour, which would have left the Stones without their guitarist for two years. Parsons was quietly asked to leave. Drugs split the Stones into two camps: Jagger, Wyman and Watts stuck to pills, booze and softer drugs. Richards, Taylor, producer Jimmy Miller, sax player Bobby Keys and engineer Andy Johns shot dope.
It cost them their gear. Wyman’s bass, Keys’ saxophone and nine of Richards’ guitars were stolen by dealers from Marseille who were owed money, while the entourage was watching television during the day. The Stones’ lawyers bribed local police to keep the party going, but even the most corrupt French cops, like Captain Louis Renault in Casablanca, have their limits. Besides, the Stones were welcomed in France because they were rich rock stars who were going to spend lots of money. If all their cash went to illegal and nontaxable drugs, the French government didn’t have much use for them.
The tipping point seems to have come with Anita Pallenberg. She maintained a steadily rocky relationship with the Stones. Richards stole, or saved, her from a paranoid and abusive Brian Jones, and there were rumors Jagger had an affair with her while filming Nic Roeg’s Performance in 1968. According to Greenfield’s book, Mick also slept with her while Richards was on the nod during the Exile sessions. Police came knocking to ask about a claim that Pallenberg had given heroin to the 14-year-old daughter of the villa’s chef.
The French police left without validating the charge, but said they’d be back to have a better look around the mansion. Richards and Pallenberg took off on his speedboat, fittingly named Mandrax II. The rest of the band slipped out soon after with the tapes. Pallenberg and Richards were charged with possession of heroin with intent to traffic in 1973. They were then exiled from France for the next two years.
The party continued when the Rolling Stones reconvened in Sunset Sound studios in Los Angeles. The band tossed TVs off the balconies of hotel rooms with Marc Bolan and Neil Young. The tapes for the album stretched from 1969 to 1972. The band edited hours of jams into song structure. Jagger scatted melodic placeholders for unfinished lyrics, and recruited session players like Billy Preston and Doctor John to fill in any sonic emptiness. The words to “Tumbling Dice,” for instance, were written last minute. The song has an unusual structure, as the verses become shorter, the choruses get longer. It may have Watts’ best drum performance.
Exile on Main Street contains some of Richards’ best guitar work. The album really belongs to Keith. “Happy” is almost entirely his. He’s on vocals, guitar and bass, with Miller on drums, Keys on maracas, overdubs from Taylor, and backing vocals from Jagger. “Sweet Black Angel” is a political love letter to civil rights activist Angela Davis. “Shake Your Hips” put the hair on ZZ Top’s lips. The album cover set the visual tone for punk. Some people claim it’s the Rolling Stones’ best work. It is a classic which catches them at their hedonistic peak. Its dirty, loosely played backing created an identifiable sound. The Stones’ first double LP, it is best heard in its entirety, and earned its street cred.
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1971: The Year Music Changed Everything is available to stream on Apple TV+ now.
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You Like Jazzcuzzis?|| Tommy and Marley
TIMING: Happy Hour
PARTIES: @wrightnotwrcng and @detectivedreameater
SUMMARY: Mara vs. Bugbear Ultimate Smackdown 2020! Tickets on sale today only! We’ll sell you the WHOLE SEAT but you’ll only need the edge!
CONTENT: Blood mentions, mara slander :/
It wasn’t often lately that Marley could catch enough of a break to enjoy a day off at the bar. She used to frequent all the ones down on Amity-- they were good places to pick people up, or even catch someone in an act that would leave them in her debt, sometimes both-- but lately, too much had been going on for her to want to. Usually, she’d just head home and flop onto her couch. She needed to go back there anyways to make sure JD was fed and hadn’t chewed through her furniture, and at that point, she’d either just call up Anita, or Jane, or Lydia. But now, most of them were out of commission and Marley still felt a strange burning feeling whenever she asked Anita over. So she’d opted for a bar today, on her day off. She’d practically forced herself to take today off, after everything that had happened with jane and the disastrous bowling excursion. There wasn’t much going on at Shanahan’s during the day, but she didn’t altogether mind the quiet. She did, however, notice the man in the corner that had been casting glances her way the entire time. With a sigh, she decided she did have the patience to take a man home today, and she picked up her drink, sauntering over. Slid into the seat next to him, not looking at him yet, before saying, “I see you’ve got an eye for the top shelf.” Pointedly not saying whether she meant his drink of choice or herself. Raised a brow, finally turning to look at him out of the corner of her eye, hidden well behind dark glasses. “Come here often?”
A cop had been digging into things she shouldn't have, and obviously that was nothing new for Tommy and Roy’s operation— but it was still something that needed to be addressed. So here he was at the same bar one Marley Stryder had decided to frequent in the day off from her work. If you could call it work. Tommy wasn’t entirely sure that being a narc was a job, probably more of a personality flaw. The repeated looks had thankfully done their job, bringing his prey to him as she walked her way over to the bugbear, and opened the conversation. You had to let the woman think it was her idea to start things like this. Otherwise, they’d never listen. “You saying I have good taste?” She’d be right. He had a decent eye for a good bit of flesh and bone. Tommy gave her a quick once over while he chewed on the toothpick stuck between his teeth. She did look like she’d make a nice little snack. Maybe a little tough or stringy if her demeanor was anything to go off of. But that’s what the toothpick was for. “Tommy,” he said simply, offering her a hand to shake in a cocky maneuver. “You like jacuzzis?”
The question struck her as odd at first, but she’d heard odder. Marley took his hand and shook it. His shake was firm, his palm slightly callous. Someone who liked to work with their hands. Well, that boded well for her, didn’t it? Settling into her seat, she took another sip of her drink before giving him a sidelong glance. “Jacuzzis can be nice,” she said, “if you have the right company.” The words still settled strangely in her stomach, like they were wrong, like saying them to someone else was wrong-- but she opted to ignore that feeling for now. She needed a goddamn break, and she wasn’t going to let anything take her out of that mindset. “I’m Marley. So what about you? Are you a jacuzzi enthusiast?”
About now would be when Tommy usually mentioned that he preferred jacuzzis filled with blood or some other vaguely unsettling substance, just to plant that first little seed of uneasiness to set someone on edge, to trigger that prickling along the neck of their spine. Then later— it would blossom into a full blown fear, and he’d have his meal for the night. But that wasn’t what he was here for on this particular evening. No, he was meant to reel this one in, not frighten her off. “Oh, it’s all to do with company.” If you got someone who didn’t scream enough, if just didn’t make for the same experience. Where was the thrill? The drama? “And you could say that,” he offered back with a smile that was always sharp. Grinning was one thing Tommy felt like he hadn’t entirely gotten down pat after making the switch from bear to human. “Do you wanna know what enthuses me even more, though?”
A grin sat awkwardly on his face, almost as if it didn’t belong there. But his jaw was set and chiseled, and he had the kind of eyes that would draw anyone in. Marley saw these from an outside perspective and appreciated them. It didn’t even occur to her that there was anything else behind his intentions, the weariness of the week weighing down on her and closing her eyes to what she would have normally seen in plain view. Instead, she wanted to play with his wit and his words and possibly later, his sharp smile. “You know, I think I do,” she said back, with a lowered voice, keen and intrigued. Sometimes it was fun to play with your food first, despite what anyone said. Not that she entirely planned on feeding on him, but she found herself more lax with rules when it came to men. Food and fuck was easier to come by with them, after all. “Tell me?”
That strange grin on Tommy’s lips only grew wider as she continued to dive deeper into the conversation, the woman obviously thinking they were going to have a different sort of snack tonight. And though Tommy generally only slept with humans if he was planning on eating them, he might have made an exception for her. He didn’t feel any prickles of fear coming from her yet, which he supposed was a good sign. If she’d scared easily, she would have made a lousy operative for Roy. “Then I’ll tell you,” he echoed back in that same low voice, figuring that if she was having fun with the game she’d made of this back and forth, there was no reason to break it. “I love a woman who takes things into her own two hands, and isn’t afraid of the consequences.” Just like she’d done with the evidence and Erin Nichols. “But a person who knows how to deal with the consequences if they do come up. Like the jack in a box of consequences, you know? Who doesn’t love a good jack in the box? Would you know anything about that?” Then, as if he hadn’t just spoken about being a dirty cop, Tommy was ordering another drink from the bartender before looking towards Marley. “And what’ll it be for you?”
Marley liked a man that could keep up with her, too. She wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of that satisfaction and say it, though, so she just listened. Until his tilted metaphor hit her ears and she felt her skin bristle. It was not fear, no-- she did not fear much-- but it was something close. It was an anxiety that made her heart thrum a little faster than she wanted it to. He was asking her what drink she wanted now and the bartender was standing in front of them and she blinked from her haze and tried to smile. “Another of the same,” she managed to say in time to make it not seem suspicious, to feign as if she weren’t thrown off-guard by his sudden words. When the bartender left to make their new drinks, she lowered her voice again and turned to face him more squarely. Was this a threat? How did he know? She wasn’t reading too into his words, was she? “I’m not entirely sure what you mean,” she said, “I find jack in the boxes to be rather boring, actually. Something so simple could never catch my attention.”
This had to be a careful thing. Tommy didn’t want her to think he was accusing her of anything. “Don’t worry,” he said quickly, hands raised and open as if showing he didn’t have anything threatening within them. “Think of me as a fan, an admirer of your work, you know? I don’t know if I’d have been able to do what you did with the information. I’m not going to tattle on you. I just wanted to let you know that I thought it was almost as cool as a jacuzzi.” Then he leaned back into his chair, scratching at his beard with an almost pensive thought. “Nahh, jack in the boxes are so unpredictable they could never be boring. They get people when they least expect it, you know? They get that little spark of alarm and then they laugh. Isn’t it kinda funny? How everyone laughs right after they get scared?” Sometimes he just loved to bite down on someone right after they’d begun to laugh, to feel that last bit of fear draining away into relief, only for it to turn to fear again as their bones crunched under his jaws. A wistful sigh fell from the bugbear, as if he were already planning on how he’d make the daydreams come true once he was done here.
His words somehow brought little relief. Marley didn’t like the idea that anyone knew what she’d done, and her mind scratched through itself to try and figure out how he did. Unless he was someone else on the inside, it didn’t seem possible. Unless… She straightened in her chair. His demeanour was too relaxed, she realized. He must have thought he had the upper hand here. And it was with sound clarity that she remembered he did. Daylight trickled through the windows and aggravated her skin. She was not powerless, though. She would need to play this one carefully. “I’ve heard that it’s a natural response to fear,” she said slowly, taking her drink and sipping it. Squeezing the glass hard to hide the shake in her hand. “Laughing. Just as it is a response to pain.” She took one more drink. “So,” she then said, turning her eyes on him. “If you’re not here to rat me out, then what are you here for?”
It was hard for Tommy to remember a time when he’d feared someone or something. He wasn’t in the business of experiencing the lesser emotion, not when he was the one responsible for doling it out. “Hey, I’ve heard the same exact thing,” he replied with the smallest chuckle. “Still kinda funny though, isn’t it?” But it was time for them to get to the meat of the matter. “Like I said, I’m a big fan! I’d love to get to see some of your work up close and personal! Maybe even on some sort of tag team situation some time, you know? We could make it mutually beneficial for the both of us.” It’d be foolish to expose the entire underbelly of Roy’s organization off the bat, not when he didn’t have a single reason to trust the woman in front of him, even if she wasn’t exactly the most moral of cops, apparently. “So what do you say? You could show me some of your’s, and we could show you some of our’s, and I’m sure it’d be great fun! We’d make it worth your while obviously. Whatever you want it, you name it. We can get it for you.”
He wanted her on his side. After everything that had happened, Roy Chambers had really sent someone to ask her if she wanted to join his side. Marley’s hand tightened so hard around the glass she worried it might break in her hand. Through clenched teeth, she tried to smile. Play it cool. Play it cool. She drew in a breath and held it. “Very funny,” she answered, jaw clicking. “You know what else is funny?” She held herself up a little higher, sipping her drink casually now. Let the alcohol linger on her lips for a moment before she swallowed. “You boss thinking that I want anything to do with the people who killed my fucking partner.” So much for subtle. She slammed her glass on the counter, hard, and turned to look at him with a vicious stare, her eyes flickering as she looked into his. But nothing happened. There was no spark, no dissolving of the world around them as fear took over, and with a profound clarity, Marley realized she’d found herself face to face with the only creature who could resist her gaze.
“Shit,” she muttered. In the next second, she had jumped out of her chair, spun it around, and kicked it at him, reaching down to draw her gun, hoping against all odds she could draw it faster than he could react. It wasn’t likely.
Another sigh dropped from Tommy as Marley dropped the word partner. He hadn’t told the bugbear that little detail. Or maybe he hadn’t realized. Either way, it was inconvenient— and probably not entirely conducive to bringing the woman onto their side. Oh well. Might as well have a bit of fun now, right? And fun there was to be had. As the mara’s eyes flickered in and out, a slow smile spread over Tommy’s lips? “A mara? Aww, are you sure you don’t wanna join?!” he yelled as he launched himself over the bar, landing behind it for cover at the moment. “Just think of all the fun we could have! Together!” Of course mara were inferior to bugbears, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t always a good time teaming up with one. Of all supernatural species, the hags understood best what it was to feel that glorious river of fear manifesting in a person. While her gun was raised, another delicious idea came over Tommy. “Get down, she’s crazy!” he yelled out to the other bar patrons, feeling their worry instantly spark. And then came the loud bang of gunshots, a few of them in quick succession as the auditory illusion rang out through the bar. Panic began to flare, sprouting on his tongue like a lovely and flirtatious appetizer. Now that was good. Like honey to a— well, a bear. With another flex of his abilities, fake flames sprang up in front of the exit to the bar, seemingly trapping those that were trying to escape. And then Tommy began his shift.
The man’s laugh rang out around her. Bugbear, of fucking course. Cheap, stupid animals, the lot of them. Thinking their parlor tricks and illusions were worth anything. His powers didn’t work on her, though. Marley did not see his fire or hear his fake gunshots. Her weapon was drawn, but she did not fire yet. People needed to get out, first. As she moved towards them, gun still trained on the man hiding behind the bar, people started moving out of the way. Hurriedly, frightened, tripping over themselves and the chairs in their way. “Get out, now!” she shouted, “Police!” They were screaming, stopping at the doorway. Shit. There must’ve been an illusion there. “Just go!” she shouted at them, shoving someone through, turning herself away from him for just a moment to get them out. “It’s not real!”
Then she heard the ripping of cloth, the groan of wood being displaced. Glass shattering as a form too large to fit into a space a human once stood was filled with that of a bear. Fuck. Fuck. She stood her ground between the panicking people and the bear and for the first time, she felt a hiccup of fear. “Get down!” she shouted behind her, and fired. But bullets, she remembered, were nothing to a bear. She was nothing to a bear.
The droplet of fear working its way through Marley was all Tommy needed. He couldn’t harm creatures that weren’t afraid, but even an ounce of terror would be more than enough to do them in when it came to his teeth and caws. A grizzly bear the length of a truck bed, and the width of at least three people roared it’s way out from behind the bar, already lumbering towards Marley. A bullet caught him in the shoulder, but it wasn’t anything of major consequence at the moment. Another roar filled the bar, resulting in a direct spike of fear from those still trying to find a method of escape. Tommy drove the flames higher, the literal picture of a devil forming from them, and rushing itself into the faces of the ones closest to the door, and those that were heeding Marley’s words. A scream went up from them, and Tommy rushed the cop, raising a paw of razor-sharp claws to try and swipe across her face.
“Don’t look at it!” Marley shouted, twisting to push more people through whatever invisible fire they were shouting about. More intense screaming and Marley was scrambling. Something in her was urging her to stay where she was, even when she heard the roar and the entire bar shook. She needed to make sure these people go out first, that was her job, her duty. She’d never cared about something like this before, it had always just been about her. Her own survival. Her own self. The bear barreled straight through her warning shot and at the last moment, she moved to the side, away from the people, leading him off from them. Raised her gun, but-- claws swiped hard and angry across her face. It didn’t burn right away, but the sting of it was felt as soon as air rushed in. The crack of her neck as her head whipped to the side and her body was thrown against a booth, landing on the table, echoed in the bar. More glass shattered, plates flying off the table. Hot, sticky blood poured from her face. Her gun lay on the other side of the bear. She pressed a palm to her face and winced. People continued to scream. The bear was still here. She needed to get him away from them.
Tommy hadn’t had a meal this good in weeks. All these people in the bar were just ripe for the plucking, and a very large part of him was considering abandoning Marley all together just to take a little nip of one of the establishment’s guests. Hold on, had that guy peed his pants? A strange and harh bark of bear laughter rumbled through Tommy as he took in the sight, absolutely reveling in the chaotic fear. The blood on his claws only added to the beauty of the symphony of fear, but it also served as a reminder. The mara was probably the biggest threat in the place, even if her abilities were rendered useless against him. So again he rushed her, another great bellow ripping itself from his maw as he aimed to chomp down on the arm that held her gun.
He was momentarily distracted by the rushing panic of the patrons. Most of them were outside now. Good. She could concentrate on this stupid fucking bear now. Marley pushed herself up with a groan. Blood was running down her face, her neck, staining her clothes. Thank god she wasn’t wearing white. Blue smeared across her dark skin, plastering her hair to her face. The bear was charging again and she extended her leg, heel kicking a chair into his path. It wouldn’t stop him, but slow him down. A chair, after all, was no match for a bear. And neither was she. She jumped from the table to the bar top, air wheezing from her lungs as she met the wood countertop hard, before flinging herself over. She heard the bear crash into just where she’d been, his jaw clicking closed so hard in the space where she’d just been she heard them. She grabbed a bottle from the shelf and winged it straight at his face. Then another. And another. Moving along the wall, searching for her gun. Inching towards the exit. Dammit, why didn’t she have her radio on her? She needed back up. She needed to get out of here. What she wouldn’t give to be able to turn intangible and escape, what she wouldn’t give to be like Felix and disappear into shadows.
Tommy barely noticed the chair, barreling through it as his jaws closed onto empty air. A small growl of frustration later, and he was beginning to question whether or not this woman was worth the trouble. Most of his snacks were gone now, and though he’d certainly hunt down a few of them later by scent— it would have been more fun if he’d gotten to maul them here, especially in front of the other patrons and Marley. She was trying for the exit, and he wasn’t about to let all of his little toys escape in this madness. Bolting for the door, he turned in front of it, using his giant bear mass to create a blockade of fur and teeth. Then he raised himself to his hind legs and full height, paws splayed with claws glistening in the low light of the bar as he launched the full force of his body towards the mara, aiming to crush her.
The bottles smashed uselessly against his hide. Fucking bears. Marley dove down to reach for her gun but by the time she’d made her way to the end of the bar, the bear was there again. Fuck it. She wasn’t dying here. She dove to the gun and bear paws came down right where she’d been. The cool metal of her glock slid into her hand and she pressed it against his side and fired once. It echoed loud in her head and she managed, just barely, to move herself out of the way as the full weight of the bear came down. Something crunched in her leg and she cried out, struggling to move herself from under him. Used her other foot to push against him, trying to free herself. If those claws came swiping again, she wasn’t sure she could move in time to not meet their full ire. So instead, she took the preemptive and aimed the gun at his head, ready to pull the trigger, blood smearing over one eye, clouding her vision. “Get fucked!” she shouted, and pulled the trigger. Sirens wailed in the distance.
The sound of the detective crunching underneath Tommy was enough to bring another jubilant roar from his lungs, all too thrilled with the strikes he’d gotten in. As Marley’s foot caught purchase and pushed, he simply pushed back, leaning his weight on the leg he’d heard that glorious and telltale sound from. Hm. The gun was back. As it came into the corners of his sight, Tommy jerked his massive head to the side, avoiding a shot to the brain, but feeling a flicker of annoyance as the bullet singed a trail across his shoulder. It was times like these that he wished he could talk in his bear form. He would have loved reminding Marley that getting fucked was exactly what she’d been trying to do in the beginning of their encounter. Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be. The sound of sirens was enough to give Tommy pause, ears pricked to the sound of their approach. Marley would have been easy enough to handle, but an entire brigade of cops? It was most likely best if he scattered now, went after the cop another day when she was alone in some dark alley, and he could really savor the kill. Raising himself up once more, he tried to side-swipe Marley away, to bat her aside like a horse would bat a fly. Then he was making a break for the door of the bar, shattering through it with brute force.
The bear was much bigger and stronger than her, which was expected. But in all her life, Marley had never imagined herself having to fight one. She supposed she’d have to rethink her life plans at this point, then, and make sure she knew how to better fight a bear. She was actually a little disappointed in herself for not thinking of it earlier. Bugbears were a thorn in her side since she’d found out what she was, and even Peter had told her to beware of them and their ability to be unaffected by her own abilities. She loathed it in this moment, as she watched the bear swipe at her again. She was on her back, too vulnerable to move much more than curling into a ball to embrace some of the impact. Though claws did not dig into skin this time, the weight of just one paw soaring through the air was enough to toss her from the ground and into the bartop. She hung upside for a moment, though it felt like hours, before her body crashed back to the ground and the world came with it, spinning in every direction. She could feel hot blood pouring up her face now, smearing into her hair. Shit, she’d have to wash that off later. She heard wood splintering and glass breaking and more screams, and then loud sirens. But no more bear.
She stayed laying there for a long moment, waited until she saw the shoes of her comrades rushing in through the destroyed doors and into the desecrated bar. Someone was saying her name, but she couldn’t focus enough to hear them. They would see her blood if she didn’t move. She needed to get out of there. But when she tried to move, her body was too stiff and too bruised. She just needed to rest for a moment. Close her eyes just for a moment. And then, she’d get back up and she’d hunt that stupid fucking bear down and she’d shoot him in the face. See how he liked it.
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My Way (Part 2)
Summary: Anita can’t operate doors and she gets to see more of Arvala-7
Warnings: Swearing. Bad writing.
A/N: This is bad. I hate this. i hate it so much.
Part One Here
Chapter Two
The Niktos, as Anita came to figure out they were called that, were rude, uncaring, and didn't much like her stubbornness when it came to the child. They provided what she needed and nothing else, this included only one other pair of clothes to change into so she could wash her original ones.
No shoes because the Nikto's deemed her high heels as suitable enough to be her only pair of shoes...ever. the second pair of clothes only included a brown shirt too big for her and a pair of what looked to be trousers...cut at the knee: also brown. Anita almost threw them back in their faces but instead chose to bear them if only for the baby's benefit.
It had been what seemed like months since her first arrival on what she now knew to be Arvala- 7 and had been near enough miserable the entire time. The only saving grace was Scamp, the little green baby she'd hastily decided to become a mother for and he was better off with her around.
He enjoyed what little time she had managed to garner for him outside. Chasing the tiny creatures in the sand before the Nikto's would ruin the fun, taking them back inside the dark and cold room they spend most of their time in.
He seemed to enjoy the endearment name she'd given him as well, responding immediately the first time she'd said it and actively seeming like he always wanted to hear it.
Anita's motherly tendencies had always been her gift, her best friend was a single mother of three triplets and needed all the help she could get with the little terrors. But something about this child had connected with Anita in more than just a motherly manner, she was protective and overly so when it came to just about anything near the child.
The food they brought was disgusting. Scamp ate it just fine but Anita had trouble swallowing it let alone getting her stomach to keep it down and after a while, ended up getting used to it.
It was still disgusting though.
The sun rose and set and on each day Anita wondered if she would ever see more than just the sandy horizon from this encampment. She wanted to find a way home, back to her friends, her family, and a normal... non-captive life.
It was yet another day of boredom inside after the Nikto's had forced her and Scamp back in from playing in the sand. They seemed quite rushed as if another person had come to shoot up the camp.
At this point, there are had been so many fights at this place that Anita wasn't sure if the Nikto's were bad, or the people shooting were bad. The Nikto's had always won though, and always further cemented the fact that they were still bad.
None of them had ever been so on edge and Anita assumed they had something a lot of people wanted. The days outside were spent in less time, Anita was kept in a different building of the encampment most nights to avoid Scamp becoming overly attached to her as if it hadn't already happened.
The gunshots had started early in the day before she had been allowed to see her child. Anita was yelling, banging on the doors for them to let her out and get to Scamp and they were all a bit too busy with something called an 'I.G unit'.
Left all alone in the silence of the room as the gunshots stopped. Anita's worry for Scamp increased as one more lone shot rang out and she started jabbing the buttons on the wall. The Nikto's had never let her seen how to open the doors, always making sure it was hidden in case she ever wanted to risk her and Scamps life on the barren desert of Arvala-7.
Crying out in frustration Anita screamed into her hands, ''How the fuck do you open this fucking thing!'' she slammed her hands against the panel as if it would help more, jumping in surprise when the door actually slid open. She huffed in amusement to herself before running from the building to find Scamp.
Anita cared nothing for the Nikto bodies all around her, looking nowhere else but her destination. Running into the larger building where Scamp was usually kept yielded nothing but a dead Nikto and a damaged robot on the floor. The metal egg and Scamp were gone.
Anita almost burst into tears until she saw the footprints in the sand. Someone had left with Scamp in his egg and she hoped they hadn't gotten far, it hadn't been long between the gunshot and her freedom but if they had a vehicle; then they were gone and she was alone.''
Snatching her bag from the pile of stuff against the wall, Anita turned and followed the footprints. The hot sand hurt her bare feet as usual but she hadn't thought to see if any of the Nikto bodies had a suitable pair of shoes, her mind only on finding Scamp.
Ten minutes is all it took between the gunshot and her freedom and ten minutes is all it took to finally see a figure and the floating Egg pod on the horizon. Slowing her breaths, Anita tried to run as quietly as she could, The sand was silent under her feet, and her controlled breaths wouldn't be heard until she was right on top of him.
Scamp laughed joyfully as he watched Anita appear and jump onto the back of the metal man who had come for him. Clapping his hands together, overjoyed to finally see his so-called mother back with him as he was unable to tell the metal man he even had a caretaker.
She heard the man gasp in surprise under the mask, unable to get any leverage on her before she threw her entire weight backwards into the ground and taking him with her. He took her arm from around his neck and pulled it away easily, rolling away from her and trying to get a good look at the person who attacked him so suddenly.
He barely got a good look before the woman threw her flat left hand towards his neck, throwing her right hand to his stomach when he caught the left. He noted she was quick, she took his armor into account and went for his soft parts; glad she couldn't see the relief on his face when he caught the leg going for his crotch.
''Enough!''
The scene stood still, Scamp still laughing and clapping away. He held Anita's leg between his own just under his knees, both her hands held in his tightly and both their chest heaving for breaths.
''Give him to me.''
''Who are you.'' His voice was deep, modulated a little by the helmet he wore. In her mind, Anita couldn't believe what she had just done, she had only seen videos and movies, and yet when the time came; she managed to pull off at least a few of the moves she had seen.
''Who am I? Who are you?!'' She fired right back, far too engrossed with the moment to be scared. ''You come into camp, you kill everyone, take my child and then have the audacity to demand my name? I don't fucking think so!''
He was silent for a while, his helmet turning to look at Scamp, who had since stop laughing to listen to the conversation. He took the time to look over her as well, noting her blue hair with brown roots, the tight, dirty black skirt, and pink wrinkly shirt. The way the child held his grip on the white coat inside his pod while looking towards her with a smile.
''You're his mother?''
''No I'm his nan - of course, I'm his fucking mother, dipshit. Let me go!'' He only tightened his grip when she tried to pull away and repeated his earlier question. ''Anita D'arcy. Scientist, Mother...fucking universe traveler -let me go, iron man, shit!''
He sighed heavily, dropping all Anita's limbs that he had captive and letting her go to the child. Watching her crouch in front of the pod to get a look over the baby in case he was harmed in some way, witnessing the way the child held his hands out for her and cooing when she picked him up.
''You still haven't told me who you are.''
''A Mandalorian''
''A fucking what now?'' She reeled back at what he said, never expecting the word to be that long. She gently rocked Scamp in her arms as she stared at the Mandalorian with raised eyebrows.
He sighed again, ''A Mandalorian. Just call me Mando.'' He turned around and started walking, the pod following behind him as empty as it usually was during the days. ''Let's go.''
He expected this to be the end. He expected silence in the journey ahead but no, Anita continued to speak, as confused as the day she arrived on the planet.
''But that's not your name? Is that your species? Your job? Title? Elaborate. Where are we going? what are we doing? I'm not following a man in armor to me and my child's death, thank you.''
Once again sighing, he turned and quick as a flash, locked her wrists in a pair of cuffs before continuing on his journey. Anita made a surprised sound, mouth agape at what he had just done.
''fucking rude much. I was only asking questions. This is not gonna shut me up, Manny. The Nikto's didn't speak English and Scamp can't speak at all, so you're my only source of entertainment. You might as well answer my questions.''
''It is not my name. I am human, I was raised as a Mandalorian. We are going to Nevarro. Does that satisfy you?''
Anita's tongue pushed against the roof of her mouth, he sounded annoyed and she thought it best if she didn't annoy the only person within a hundred miles to the point of murdering her. ''Sure.''
Holding Scamp with the cuffs was difficult but she refused to drop him back into the pod that could be controlled by a man who refused to say more than a few words. Eventually, though, she had to put Scamp back in to rest her arms and it was too hot to keep him close by to her chest.
It was the single most boring journey up until the point where they were in a canyon of sorts. Anita had never felt so unsafe despite the man with the giant gun on his back. She stopped when he did, glad that he had realized something was off, not at all surprised when a person jumped down from above.
He was quick to react, pushing the pod away from the fight and Anita followed it without hesitation. Scamp fell back into the pod, her lab coat's sleeve flinging with the pod's motion and Anita's still cuffed hands took a hold of the sleeve.
Scamp was sitting on it, so it had enough weight to be moved by the sleeve should it need to be. Two more people arrived and Anita wondered if perhaps she should help, the thought had left her once an enemy made its way in her and Scamp's direction.
As much as she didn't want to be hurt herself, she couldn't let it touch Scamp, so she stood herself in front of the pod, ready to try and block the attack. Surprised and relieved when the person coming to attack them burst into nothing.
She meant to ask him about the gun, but something was making noise and blinking up at her ''What is that?''
''A tracking fob.''
''A track- I thought- what is this exactly?''
''My job. Come on.''
Anita stared at the Mandalorians back, unable to conjure the right words to string together. Not that he would tell her anything anyway, the man was course and barely looked more than two seconds in their direction; but she had to follow as Scamp's pod floated away.
From her bag trapped on her shoulder, Anita managed to pull out the bottled water she'd kept for emergencies and placed it in Scamp's pod. He knew how to drink from it, she'd taught him how to ages ago.
She didn't trust this Mandalorian, her only options being to go with him or die but it didn't mean she had to trust a single hair or...weapon on this man's person. She was going to stay by Scamp's side the entire journey and he would let her whether he liked it or not.
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Stay In Your Lane || Morgan, Deirdre, Anita, Marley (pt2)
TIMING: Tonight
LOCATION: Mortal Pins
PARTIES: @professoranieves @deathduty @detectivedreameater @mor-beck-more-problems
SUMMARY: The night’s in the gutter. Everything is not fine.
Anita grinned over towards Morgan when she mentioned consolation prizes, “Well, I am a bit of a picky eater, but I’m sure anything you whip up is bound to be delightful.” It wasn’t a big surprise that Marley and Anita ended up losing. This wasn’t their expertise. Not that they really had any. Now all she had to do was pray nobody asked for a re-match, and mentally prepare herself for whatever question Deirdre was about to ask. She hoped it wasn’t going to be too strange or awkward, but she had trouble getting a read on the woman and she seemed fairly disinterested in getting to know Anita. But based on the stories she had heard from Morgan it was clear that this woman made her friend happy, so she ignored the voice in the back of her head telling her something was off. “Good game you guys. Clearly none of us are going pro anytime soon, huh?” Her attention was on Deirdre as she approached Marley, there was a palpable hostility present that made even her feel uneasy. Then came the question, and Anita’s mouth actually dropped. She thought of a lot of weird things that could be asked, but she never anticipated that the question would involve her. “You don’t have to answer that, Marley.” She retorted quickly, knowing that this was a difficult topic for the two of them. Though, admittedly, it would be nice to get some clarification on things. But this wasn’t the way she wanted that, she wanted it on their own terms.
That was not the question Marley had been expecting. Her mind was reeling. She expected something like ‘Why did you do it?’ or ‘Why are you such an asshole?’ or ‘What makes you a monster?’ but not this. Not her feelings about Anita. How the hell was she supposed to answer that when she didn’t even know the answer? They’d talked about it so many times and they always came back to the same thing. They’d decided they were better off not talking about it. They didn’t need to talk about it. Things were fine the way they were. Delving any further in just wasn’t something they wanted to do. Or could handle. Anita’s words rang in her ears. Morgan had flicked some salt off her fingers. Deirdre’s eyes were set on her. Marley felt like the world was closing in on her. She could feel the promise bind already worming its way into her stomach and she needed to get out of there. It squeezed her stomach and heart leapt into her throat. “None of your busine--” She stood up so quickly the tray of fries finally tipped over and off the table and she turned away from the other three and tried to make her way towards the doors before the sickness showed too much. But the world tilted sideways and she teetered into the ballrack, grasping the counters behind them to keep herself from falling over. She didn’t want to answer the question because she didn’t know. She didn’t want to answer the question because she did know. She didn’t want to answer the question because the answer scared her.
I like her more than anyone I’ve ever liked before. The words circled her mind like a drain and she stumbled towards the exit. It was none of their business. She was done with this whole night. She just wanted to leave now. Dramatic exit or not, she just wanted to leave.
There was something about the way Deirdre drew the pride and dignity of her species around her like a mantle that struck Morgan with an exhilarating kind of fear. She sometimes forgot the power her love possessed, that she withheld from her, for her, but held always in her grasp. And after the way Marley’s ‘promise’ had tormented her, it was even gratifying to witness Deirdre take charge instead of being trapped by the way the mara had made her feel. But the question that she demanded make Morgan gape and reach out for her arm. If she was using this for recompense for the way she’d been treated, it was more than equivalent exchange, but she couldn’t help but exchange a horrified ‘please don’t hate me’ look with Anita. Morgan rubbed Deirdre’s arm gently and came up beside her. There wasn’t an answer, but seeing Marley take getting sick over answer had to give enough satisfaction to finish this where they were. “I think we’re done here, babe,” she said gently, murmuring into her sleeve. She watched Marley carefully, wincing at what was becoming of the evening.
With amusement Deirdre watched Marley squirm, and then run. She continued to watch, slowly growing angerier instead. That was a woman who had chosen to hurt Deirdre instead of mustering through a broken promise, and there she was, mustering through a broken promise. The very same woman who claimed she wasn’t cruel, and had only been fulfilling her end of a bargain was now running from one. It didn’t tell Deirdre anything she didn’t already know; that Marley’s act against her was cruel, and that she’d been lying through her teeth about anything else. But there was something in how blatantly she acted, as if it hadn’t occurred to her at all how badly she must have hurt people, or that she was too much of a coward to think about it. She had agreed to meet Deirdre that first time unabashedly with the intention of hurting her...but what had she come here to do? She glanced over at Anita and realized she wouldn’t care---people were like that. If she liked Marley, she’d look right past how the mara had come to attack Deirdre, and all of her trauma would mean nothing to anyone but her. Deirdre turned to Morgan, unable to be mad at the woman she loved but wholly aware that where her own ideas were absolute, Morgan’s were not. She’d be friends with Anita no matter where the other woman’s romantic interests laid. “If it means anything to you,” she mumbled to Anita, “I’m sorry.” At least one of them was. Deirdre began to pick up her things in silence. In the end, she realized, no one cared about her pain the way she did. Marley had the great privilege of running away. And Anita and Morgan were friends. The rest was hers to get over.
Anita had expected a lot of different outcomes to how Marley would respond to the question, but never this. She was literally running away from the question, running away from being honest about what Anita meant to her. It wasn’t like she was expecting some big declaration, otherwise she’d probably be the one running, but Marley had openly kissed her in front of their bowling partners and now she couldn’t even lie and just say something nonchalant? She stood up, grabbing her jacket and scoffing at Deirdre’s statement. “This was just supposed to be fun between friends. I don’t know what the hell happened between you two in the past or why that question freaked her out like that - but I think you know. And I doubt you’re all that sorry about it.” As she turned to make her way towards Marley, she gently grabbed Morgans arm giving it a friendly squeeze. “I’ll see you around campus.” She caught up with Marley fairly quickly, wrapping her arm around her waist as she could see that she was having trouble walking. Maybe this was some mara thing? She didn’t ask questions, just quickly lead her towards the main exit. “You know, you could’ve just said I make you sick instead of putting on a whole show.” There was sarcasm in her voice, but that was fairly clearly masking some genuine concern. “Did she, I dunno, did she do something to you?”
Marley nearly jumped out of her skin when Anita caught up to her, an arm around her waist. She was relieved to find it was her, but for whatever reason, her mind had tried to convince her it was going to be Deirdre or Morgan, standing over her, telling her that she was a coward for running away. She’d been so adamant about only doing what she’d done to Deirdre because of the promise, but here she was, running from this one. They were right, then. She was a coward. She was a coward and she was cruel and she was a monster. Everything they thought of her was true. And yet, Anita was still there. Trying to help her walk. Still offering her that stupid cute smile of hers that always made Marley feel real. So maybe she was a coward, but after everything that had happened-- after getting trapped in that house, after the dreams, and Erin getting arrested, and Jane disappearing, and Roland being upset with her-- she just couldn’t do it. The promise gripped her stomach again and she dry-heaved, realizing too late that not eating human food meant not being able to properly throw-up. “That wouldn’t be true, though,” she said through a grimace, “it’s-- complicated.” She eyed the doors behind them, wondering if the other two were soon to follow, to hound her for the answer they were owed. She almost wanted to go back in and give it to them. But Anita’s words made her realize she didn’t know what Deirdre was, what fae were capable of. She slid to a sit against the wall outside, head in her hands. “I’ll be fine in a moment, I just need to sit.” At least, she hoped it would only take a moment to pass. She’d never broken a fae promise before-- so what did it mean, then, that she’d done it to avoid feelings for Anita?
Morgan nodded at Anita and waited for her to disappear at the entrance before letting out a sigh of relief and turning her attention to Deirdre. “Hey--” She reached for her hands, trying to hold her still. “It’s over now, my love. Let’s just take a second in case they’re loitering outside.” She tilted her head upwards, trying to catch Deirdre’s look with her own, tender and searching for answers. “Tell me what’s wrong at least, babe?” She could tell something was deeply wrong, more than she’d reckoned with to begin with. She wasn’t sure when, exactly the needle had moved, but something about Marley turning away had really made it worse. Morgan squeezed Deirdre’s hands. It was just them now. They could just be themselves if they wanted.
“I am sorry…” Deirdre replied, but Anita was already out of the bowling alley. “People don’t really care about your pain unless it suits them, do they? Marley always intended to be cruel to me; I imagine Anita will forgive that, even though it isn’t hers to forgive. And I imagine you will continue being her friend anyway, because she is kind to you.” She turned to Morgan, closing her fingers around Morgan’s. “And I am the one who lives remembering what was done to me. There is no such thing as equivalent exchange, is there?” But her musing done, she shook her head and turned her attention back to the doors. “Come, my love, we should meet them outside. Marley will be ill and Anita will undoubtedly think I’ve done something to her, which won’t be a good look for you. I’ll free her from the promise, and they can go on with their night.” And she would have the courage to do something Marley only thought she was able to; she was never afraid of people hating her. She wouldn’t dress her actions as non-cruelty, she wouldn’t claim to be making anything fair. “It’ll be okay,” she tugged Morgan along, “I’ll fix it.”
Anita remembered, vividly, the first time Marley broke down in front of her. But this time felt less emotional and more physical, not that the two couldn’t be linked. She sighed heavily, then sat down on the pavement beside Marley. “Complicated, huh? That your favorite word or something?” She was an oddly patient woman but even she was getting a little tired of hearing that same old excuse. “Has anything you thought was going to be complicated with me actually been that?” Aniita didn’t want to push Marley too hard, but she knew what a convenient excuse sounded like when she heard it. “Do you want me to just drive you home?”
Marley looked at Anita from the side of her vision, removing her glasses to run her hand over her eyes. How did she even begin to explain this to her? “Must be,” she muttered back, shaking her head. She hated how this had turned out for Anita, couldn’t they just have one good night out? Just one? Was that really too much to ask for? She couldn’t even entirely tell if it was her own fault that this had happened. Maybe if she’d just left earlier, Anita could have had fun. Maybe if she’d just said no to the deal, it would’ve been fine. Maybe if she’d just had the guts to answer the fucking question, things wouldn’t be so tense. Her second question sat in Marley’s belly with the promise. “It’s not you that’s complicated,” she answered finally. She was acutely aware of the door opening, the smell and sounds of the inside wafting for just a moment before it closed again. “I like what we have, I don’t want it to change,” she muttered. She didn’t want her stupid, complicated, confusing feelings to make it change. She didn’t want Deirdre to force her to answer and make it change. But maybe if it scared Anita off, then it would solve her dilemma-- of wanting her but knowing she didn’t deserve her.
And then she saw them again. Walking casually out the doors and towards the pair of them. And they didn’t even look smug. They looked upset, angry. Marley’s lungs squeezed. “Okay,” she said to them loudly, “I concede, alright? Just-- make it stop. Just take it back.” She didn’t want them to see the sickness or the desperation in her eyes, so she kept her palms pressed against them. “Ask something else. Anything else. Just not that.”
“Hey, no,” Morgan said, sliding her arm around Deirdre’s waist. “I remember that night. I remember how shaken you were. And--no, I don’t love the situation we’re in, because I want Anita to like me. But you are entitled to something for what Marley did to you. Maybe your question brought Anita into our stuff, but compared to what Marley did, you’re letting her off easy, and I don’t need you to fix this for my sake. I love you, and Anita will talk to me again or not on her own, and you still get to pick what we do after this.” She gave her another good squeeze as they left the bowling alley behind and went into the night air. Sure enough, Anita and Marley were still there. Morgan steeled herself, ready for whatever would come next but--oh. Well, begging was a little unexpected. Morgan arched a brow, almost impressed. She pressed her lips to Deirdre’s shoulder. She didn’t know what Deirdre was going to do, but she wanted her to know she wouldn’t be alone when she did it.
“I don’t think anyone is entitled to making anyone suffer, exactly.” Deirdre leaned against Morgan, moving in sync with her. “But revenge sounds pretty nice most of the time.” She met the cool night air with a small smile, turning to Morgan again before they reached the others. “I know you don’t need me to, but I love you and I want to. Anita is your friend, it’d be nice if she stayed one.” And then there was Marley. A few hours ago she might have taken pleasure in seeing the woman like that, but mostly, it was just sad to watch. She crouched to her level, daring to look at her. “Isn’t that funny, detective? Remember when I asked you to stop? Do you remember what you did to me?” She tilted her head, her voice wasn’t malicious, only inquiring. “And do you remember what you said to me after? You said you weren’t cruel, you said you were only fulfilling a promise and that I shouldn’t hold that against you. Well, here you are. You had met me that night with the intent to hurt me, and when you did it you had the audacity to tell me that I should have a friend like you in my life or else I shouldn’t make an enemy of you. And now you want me to stop?” She stood up, looking down at Marley’s body. “You know exactly how to make it stop. All you have to do is be honest. You’re not at my mercy, Marley, only your own. Because you know you have no right to ask me to be kind to you where you were cruel to me.” She glanced over at Anita, breezing through an explanation. “I’m fae. This is what happens when you try to go back on your deals with one. Except---” she looked back at Marley, “this isn’t the paltry tummy ache of a broken promise. This is her trying to fight a deal she was too stubborn to say anything about. So, what’ll it be?”
When Anita saw the other two women come outside, she hoped that they’d just go out to their car and everyone could go their separate ways. Instead, Marley asked Deirdre to take it back? Take what back? The question? This whole evening had gone from awkward to strange and she was a little too exhausted to try to figure it all out. But from what she could gather, Marley obviously hurt her and not in an angry lover sort of way. Maybe she had fed from a nightmare of hers? That’s what Marley said she ate afterall. But none of that explained this strange emphasis on promises or why Marley now seemed to be the one in so much pain. She looked up at Deirdre, finding herself wanting to dose her with just a tiny bit of venom, just enough to make her feel the way Marley was feeling right now. She then proceeded to hate herself for even thinking that. Much to her surprise, Deirdre turned and explained, at least partially, what was going on. “Okay, you were right. This is complicated.” She whispered to Marley in spanish. She didn’t know anything about whatever a fae was or why their promises made you ill, so she just stayed sitting next to Marley, reaching over and holding her hand hoping to provide some level of comfort through whatever this was.
It was clear Anita wasn’t as steeped in this world as the other three, and Marley resented Deirdre lording that over her. Her confusion was palpable, even though the sickness digging through Marley’s chest. Deirdre’s voice was grating on her and anger erupted in her mouth. “Shut up!” she snapped at the banshee, woozily standing, using the wall as support. “Just...shut up. I get it, okay? I fucking get it. I’m cruel, and dangerous, and a monster. I-- fucking know that already. I don’t need you to fucking tell me that. And I don’t know why you want an apology when it doesn’t even matter to you if I do. You-- you enjoy my suffering just as much. And you would’ve enjoyed it then, too, if I had broken it. I know your--” she huffed, holding in another dry heave, pausing to gather herself, “I know your kind. Stop pretending like-- like you’re any better.” She stood up a little straighter, a little sturdier. “Why does it matter to you? If I answer your stupid question? Did you ask it just to ruin it? Are you afraid I’ll do to her what I did to you? Because if so, then you really-- really don’t know me.” She looked down at Anita, her expression immediately shifting from anger to worry as their eyes met. “I don’t owe you this answer-- deal or not. The only person that gets to ask that, to k-know that is Anita.” And it was the unasked question that reflected in her eyes as she looked down at Anita, her hand still in hers-- do you want me to answer it? Because she would suffer the pain if not. She would suffer anything for her if she asked.
Morgan ached for her magic, for anything to make this end faster. Marley’s anguish was palpable, she would’ve been an idiot not to recognize it, but she didn’t understand how she’d built a bridge from there to lashing out, to being cruel for sport or boredom, to the point where words like no and stop didn’t mean anything, to need to be pushed this far in order to be honest. But wasn’t she the same way, waiting to disclose what she was capable of until it became ‘relevant’? Marley really was the worst of them. How awful, to be so much like them, so close to understanding, but for this bullshit she’d pulled on a power trip whim and stars above only knew what else. Morgan didn’t have anything to keep her at bay with, but she inched closer to Deirdre, ready to push her out of harm’s way if Marley’s pain coiled and flexed outward again.
Deirdre cocked her head to the side, watching Marley. She always found these things to be curious. In her early days, she’d orchestrate these kinds of scenarios just to watch how people reacted in them---some hope of understanding the emotion that so often eluded her. It was true, maybe, that one’s character could be purely observed in how they reacted when pushed into a corner. “I don’t think I’m morally righteous, and I don’t particularly enjoy watching people suffer. I told you I deal in chaos; I never intend to do anything, not really. I could have undone your promise, I could have sent you home with a sickness any human would classify as eating something off. It’s not equivalent to torturing someone’s mind. I don’t have the tools to do that, but you do, and you didn’t care. If you claim to know this, then why does it bother you?” Her voice hung in the air with genuine curiosity; she was an observer, always. And she had her theories: Marley was a manipulator, and of course she would lash out like this. She wanted control, even if that meant painting herself as a monster, and now she didn’t have it. But she was right, in the end, Deirdre didn’t really know her. Even so--- “People are just their actions. That’s all they are. There’s nothing revelatory about it. You hurt me, and then you tried to manipulate me, and I have no reason to think you won’t do that to Anita. I’d ask you what you think ‘my kind’ of people are, but I don’t particularly care for the answer.” She sighed, watching Anita’s hand in Marley’s. She wanted to explain that the truly cruel act was to hide evils away in the darkness, that all Marley needed to do to be better was be honest, but she realized it didn’t matter. And that she didn’t care. She wasn’t a good person either. “It doesn’t matter to me if you answer it. It doesn’t matter to me at all what you do, because it doesn’t concern me. And you’re right, the only person owed that answer is Anita; the only person who deserves it.” Deirdre waved her hand dismissively in the air. “I release you, Marley Stryder, from all deals and promises bound to me---you don’t owe an honest answer to the question I’ve asked.” She looked back at her and paused, “I think you should ask yourself what kind of a person you want to be, Marley. Not the person you think you are--because true ‘monsters’ don’t have kind women willing to hold their hands--but the person you want to be. Then ask yourself if you’re willing to stop being a coward, because that’s all I see right now.” And then she turned to leave.
Anita knew what Marley meant when she looked over at her. They all seemed to be in agreement that she was the one to deserve an answer and so it was put on her. If she wanted the answer, now seemed like her time to do so. And while she didn’t really understand what Deirdre was or how she could make someone physically ill for breaking a promise, it did seem like if Marley just answered the pain would stop. And she wanted that, she wanted to help Marley’s pain stop, even if that meant getting an answer that she didn’t like. Evidently she had taken too long contemplating what to say because Deirdre decided to lift the promise? The curse? Whatever it was. There was a soft relief that spread across her face, grateful to not have to make the decision herself. Despite the anger Anita felt towards Deirdre for what she did to Marley, she appreciated the last few words she had to say. They echoed what Anita had tried to say more than once. Not about being a coward, but about not being a monster. Anita offered an apologetic smile towards Morgan as she saw them turn to leave, then stood up and offered her hand out to Marley, not fully sure if the physical impact of the promise left immediately or not. “I do wanna know the answer. But not till you wanna give it freely.” God this turned out to be such a strange night. Could a non-date outing with the two of them ever end normally? “But she was right, you know. People are their actions. That’s why nothing she said changes what I think about you.” With that, she started making her way towards the car, her arm linked with Marley’s.
Marley sagged under the weight of Deirdre’s words. She had so much she wanted to say, but so little to actually speak. And she was right, about all of it. About who Marley was and who she told herself she was-- who she’d been told she was-- and who she wanted to be. But that person didn’t exist. There wasn’t a version of Marley that existed in that way yet, and she wasn’t sure that one could. Was it really so easy as to just simply decide who she wanted to be? To simply decide to be different? What about the fingers and the eyes that pointed and stared and told her she was nothing but a monster? Or that she was simply nothing and shouldn’t exist? Did Deirdre understand those people, too? Anita’s soft voice cut through her thoughts, and though Marley’s expression had not changed, her red eyes dead set on the banshee’s back, there was a noticeable shift in her body, as all the words and thoughts weighed down on her. She thought of Erin and sitting by her dad’s grave with her. And she thought of Jane, and the pain in her chest when she’d gone missing, and she thought of Roland, and the guilt that gripped every time she saw his face. And she thought of Anita, and sitting on her couch, and her head in her lap, and her soft words of I want you, I need you. Marley sagged under the weight of it all and simply said-- and to who, she wasn’t sure-- “I’m sorry.”
Morgan let Deirdre have her moment, leaving the woman who had tormented her in the dark, as powerful and rigid as the iron she had been taught to withstand. She hated having any understanding for Marley, for seeing fractured reflections of Deirdre’s own fear in her, so much fear from all the wrong places gobbled up and shut up behind her bones, eating away at whatever should’ve been good. Morgan gave one guilty glance towards Anita, who didn’t deserve to be sucked into any of this, and ran to her banshee quickly, relieved to have an excuse to turn away from this mess. She hated herself for that too. Morgan threw her arms around Deirdre as soon as they were by the car and out of sight, gathering her up by the handful, breathing in the memory of her with a gratitude she couldn’t articulate beyond the way it burst through her like a rogue burst of moss though asphalt. “You did good,” she said into her chest. Not as good as she’d hoped, but with the disaster this had been fated to be all along, Morgan wasn’t sure if anything could have really gone better. Sometimes you bowled the ball and collided with way more pins than you wanted to. “I’m sorry we went through with this. But I love you. And you, Deirdre Dolan, are exactly as good as you need to be. Let me take us home?”
Curiosity led Deirdre to glance back one last time, turning to see Anita’s arm linked with Marley’s and the two of them walking away where her eyes couldn’t follow. She imagined a conversation in which Anita soothed her, and denounced whatever oddities Deirdre had said. She imagined that Marley was happy enough to continue on exactly as she always had been. For a second she wondered if accountability ever occurred to the two of them, and then she realized she was thinking far too much about two people she didn’t know, and didn’t really care to. “I don’t know about ‘good’,” Deirdre continued to stare long after their silhouettes dissolved with the darkness. “I think---When I do something wrong, I’d like you to tell me. Even this.” She turned to Morgan and, for the first time since stepping outside, smiled freely. “I’d like to be good, for you. Better. Better than what I am. If I make mistakes, I can always learn to make good ones. I want that. I love you and I want to be honest; I want to be deserving of the affection you give me. I want to work for that. And I owe you an apology for tonight too.” She continued to smile as she leaned down to kiss Morgan, putting Marley far out of her mind--whatever the detective did now was her move, and Deirdre didn’t care about her enough to be curious about it. All that mattered to her was here, holding her and asking to take her home. “Or what do you say about painting over some stop signs so they say ‘poop’?”
#stay in your lane#wr marley#wr chatzy#wr marley chatzy#wr anita#wr anita chatzy#wr deirdre#wr deirdre chatzy#wr group chatzy#wickedswriting
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So y’all remember that guy (voice like butter) that stopped talking to me because I’m bi about a week ago???
So throwback to when we were doing our show (where me and voice-like-butter met), there was this boy who was BEAUTIFUL who used to hang out backstage and help with costumes and everyone was like “he’s so pretty what the fuck” whenever he would help. One day I wasn’t needed for a while so he asked if I wanted to play connect 4 with him and I was like HECK YEAH. During our conversation we bonded over being the only 2 mexican people who were working on the show
So fast forward a year and suddenly voice-like-butter says “still...” when I tell him I’m bisexual and while I’m still reeling he leaves me on read. Keep in mind me and this boy have been talking non-stop all day all night for almost a year and a HALF and he completely shuts down all communication because he wasn’t getting something he wanted??? Or something??? Idk the AUDACITY of it all.
So I’m pissed as hell, feeling kinda dumb because I really thought above everything else me and him were friends even if we never ended up dating in the future, but no
THEN!!! TWO DAYS after voice-like-butter stops messaging me, the beautiful backstage boy messaged me on Instagram. At first I was like ??? Because we haven’t spoken since that one day. But then he started telling me all about how he’s been keeping busy during quarantine and I was like 👀👀👀 and we’ve been talking ever since 😌
And because they’re both in the same theater program at their college which means they’re constantly having to work together over zoom. And you might say: Anita!! Do you think maybe they’re both playing you? Maybe they’re friends irl and are trying to trick you or sumthing
And to that I say this: beautiful backstage boy didn’t like AAAANY of the theater kids at that school. He really didn’t like talking to voice-like-butter and voice-like-butter didnt like talking to him that much. I know this because theater kids are notoriously the messiest bunch of bitches on the planet and EVERYONE knew they didn’t like each other during that show (and told me all the tea 😌)
And the biggest plot twist? They ALSO work at the same gym together irl
So remember this my babies!! Sometimes God places things in your path and you feel dumb. But Her timing... I’m in awe
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A quick recap of what criticism I remember reading about this Blu-ray set: nobody agrees about the picture quality, or on which films it’s best/worst, but it’s on the waxy/soft side mostly because of too much digital cleaning or whatever, the sound is said to be good, some hissing, out of sync in the 1936 version of Berth Marks, extras are good too, no Blu-ray logo on the case, no booklet, awkward menu always reverts back to beginning, no play-all possibility, the films are not in the order of making/release.
But a lot of people worked very hard for a long time to make this set available. Which is why nothing negative should be said about it? Eh. Next time go for quality instead. Or don’t sell your product. Make it a fanwork.
Anyhow, if I was all powerful and had commissioned someone to restore these films, I’d make them go back and do it again if this set was presented to my ruling eyes.
OTOH, I paid 99 euros for this package and have had lots of fun with it and if there’d been Stan’s scrapbook (pages) amongst the galleries, I’d happily paid double. It’s not about the money spent except when people imply that negative reviews aren’t allowed. I’d paid 99 euros for the galleries alone.
It’s about the fact that the films aren’t as well restored as they should/could be. Beyond me, why it’s so difficult to admit. And it’s clearly not only an issue of getting waxified during some final cleanup or somehow being ruined when transferred to Blu-ray disks.
Any idiot (me) knowing nothing about the processes involved can easily confirm this by watching how different films on the same disk have different quality, likewise first reel can be almost okay, the second much worse, scenes and cuts have often annoyingly varying quality, even single frames look like they came from different prints and nothing was done to make them fit more seamlessly in their surroundings. And I’m not talking about that one wandering frame in Scram!, which must be some person’s idea of a joke, how else could it be so out of place?
Or didn’t anyone watch these that one last important time since it wasn’t removed, nor were the countless spots still there in most of the films? I know, when things get cleaned up that one remaining crumb is much easier to spot... er... see my point?
There are also jumpy frames, which I imagine would’ve been easy to adjust, and to prevent those ubiquitous flashy cuts, you’d only needed to adjust the brightness of that single frame causing the flashing. Even I have done that on GIMP when making gifs. I’m guessing too much contrast on, say, Me and My Pal isn’t a problem created by the wax people either.
The ridiculously softly glowing Brats might be, there’s an awful lot of glowing in One Good Turn too, and in parts of Sons of the Desert, for example, where faces are dangerously close to have that overly scrubbed look, which is a big problem in The Chimp and Come Clean.
When it comes to wax, Helpmates and County Hospital are the most hideous, the latter must be the worst looking of all the films in this set, being also awfully spotty as well as too dark. It’s got other faults too, like wonky frames. The Music Box has a pretty decent first reel (except for the opening scene), and despite not being able to see the stripes on Stan’s and Ollie’s pants because of too much contrast, Me and My Pal is also clearly better wax-wise in the first reel.
It’s interesting to watch some of these films for the first time, thinking that this is crap quality picture, but then the second reel is even worse and suddenly there’s a whole new level of crappiness.
I think the sound is ever so slightly out of sync for a bit in Way Out West and One Good Turn. At least it is compared to those same films on my 21 DVD set. In addition to being very clearly out of sync in that Berth Marks reissue like others have noticed. Berth Marks also has a weird stripey “cover” over the actual film. I suppose it was impossible to remove.
Even with some sync problems, if I had to choose the best restorations from this new collection, Way Out West would be on my list, together with Busy Bodies, Hog Wild and Towed in a Hole. Some parts of Sons of the Desert look gorgeous. With grain and all. Pretty much like Atoll K but unfortunately not as consistently. (Atoll K was restored by different people, I gather.)
The much anticipated but already online for free since 2019 The Battle of the Century then? Well, the first reel is quite good, or would be if it wasn’t a weird blend of an ugly greenish yellow or yellowish green. Sepia isn’t what it used to be. And I would’ve thought they’d made sure to get all those black spots removed at least from this one what with it being one of the “new” things on this set. The second reel is worse except colour-wise. But at least it’s there complete with Charlie Hall and the “what pie fight” ending.
Haven’t mentioned The Midnight Patrol, Their First Mistake or Twice Two yet. The last two are pretty evenly waxy, and comparing The Midnight Patrol to Come Clean and The Chimp makes it not that bad. There’s no actual need to bleach faces or an excuse for Billy Gilbert’s patternless shirt, is there?
For me the treasures from this set can be found on each disk under galleries. Even for those not interested in scripts, press material, posters and assorted documents, there are circa 1,400 photos, many of which really are rare, or at least I’d never seen them before. One of the gems are the about 140 photos from Babe’s Vim days. Awesome! Nothing as gemmy from Stan’s past before Laurel and Hardy, and someone put wrong names on the photos where he appears with the Hurleys, not the Cookes. Yes, there’s a short, handy description for most of the photos.
So many of them and I must peruse more, of course, but I’m going give a special mention to Stan with both Loises on the set of Brats for adorableness and likewise to Thelma Todd for previously unseen (by me) variations from her photoshoot on that bathroom set. Love the six new-to-me photos of Stan and Babe together on the 1932 British tour especially. Great stuff. Oh, and Mae Busch, Dorothy Christy and Charley Chase in their Sons of the Desert portraits look fabulous.
Another treasure are the interviews with only a couple of slightly dubious moments. Joe Rock made me grin. George Marshall made me cry. Walter Woolf King made me laugh. Most wonderful. Short introduction by Randy Skretvedt for each interview. He’s the one who did the interviewing too. There’s 15 of them altogether. Plus a chance to hear composer Marvin Hatley perform Honolulu Baby and Will You Be My Lovey-Dovey. The audio only interviews come with some more great photos.
I kind of adore how Richard W. Bann casually debunks Anita Garvin’s The Battle of the Century story with one dry line during his commentary of the film. Hurts so good. Let’s have more debunking!
Speaking of the commentaries, and maybe more about them on some other occasion, Bann only comments The Battle and The Music Box, all the rest, including That’s That and The Tree in a Test Tube have commentaries by Randy Skretvedt.
I was expecting Bann to tell the whole story of why it took so long to get The Battle on video but he didn’t; fair enough, I thought, but then in his other commentary he goes on about his grudge with a dead guy, so I guess it was not his, um, politeness that stopped him from dishing on the much more recent and therefore interesting stuff. What then?
Perhaps a third person sharing the commentary duties would’ve been a good idea. That was my thought when Skretvedt obsessed over Stan’s smoking for the third time. By obsessed I mean he listed all the films where, according to him, Stan smokes. What for, you may wonder. I did. No answer. I remember reading somewhere that Stan not smoking in the movies means he’s a child. (Yes, some Laurel and Hardy fans are somewhat weird sometimes. Aren’t we all?) Maybe Skretvedt was trying to debunk that theory? Hehe, okay, I know he wasn’t, because he did the “they’re children, Hal Roach said so” routine in his Their First Mistake commentary, complete with Charles Barr quotes to prove there’s nothing gay about Ollie liking Stan more than his own wife. Made me fume. I don’t know why. Nothing new.
I don’t know why it doesn’t occur to him that if Ollie didn’t spend so much time with Stan, Mae wouldn’t be the lonely, disappointed wife who ends up wanting a divorce after one too many lies from Ollie and accuses Stan of alienation of Ollie’s affections. But no, apparently it’s no wonder that Ollie likes Stan more than his wife because she hits him with the broom. So the hitting came first and then too much time spent with Stan? I don’t think so.
Anyhow, third person, more variety, something newer, or at least an explanation for Stan’s smoking being of particular importance. Ollie’s smoking isn’t mentioned. Also, to digress even more, I always found the claim that Stan doesn’t smoke because he is a child odd, not only because he does, but also because he drinks alcohol too and manages to be married in several films. But the Laurel & Hardy child squad of course thinks the wives are actually their mothers. (Yes & again, weird.)
I did and do also wonder if there would’ve been anyone available and even if there had been, if these old school fans had accepted someone with different views. Probably not.
Still waiting for Skretvedt to notice Stan’s camera looks. Maybe he just hasn’t been a fan for long enough yet... 😛
I’m out of steam now. Need to rehydrate.
One more thing: No booklet, so maybe nobody involved wanted to spread about their name more than absolutely necessary knowing the restoration work was, shall we say, uneven?
Tl;dr: Uneven restoration work. Great extras. Mostly interesting commentaries.
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Laven Secret Santa
Sorry this is so late. Originally was gonna post this yesterday but I got sidetracked ^^”
(So, this is dedicated to @bakausagirabi25. I was your secret Santa, and this was actually an idea that's been rolling around in my head for a while while I was writing my Parent Cross and Child Allen snippets. This is the perfect excuse to explore the idea of Allen actually having feelings for Lavi rather than Link in my original story. I hope it's not too uncomfortable, I know not a lot of people would probably like this kinda thing but…well, I hope you like it! For a frame of reference, this is set in a ModernAU and based on the alternate universe I created for my DGM fic series. Lavi Age: 16. Allen: 14.)
Allen was just about to sit and watch T.V. after getting home from school when he heard the door slam open and a very upset, red-head storm through the entrance and run up the stairs. Allen, who was holding a can of pop in one hand and a massive bag of chips in the other, stared up at the stairs where Lavi ran up to. Then he looked over at Cross sitting in his recliner, who seemed just as confused and concerned.
"I thought you were the one who usually had the teen angst. Did you guys decide to switch it up today and not tell me?" Cross asked while inwardly debating if this situation called for him to get up and 'be a dad' or if it was just a random case of 'fuck the whole world and everyone in it' teen rage that would dissipate on its own.
Allen gave him an annoyed look, mumbling under his breath that he wasn't that angsty and that Cross was a senile old man before he set his snacks down on the coffee table. Then he began to walk upstairs to investigate what was wrong with his friend. Well, ok, he wasn't necessarily a friend…I mean he was…but closer? A lot of people would probably use the term brother to describe their relationship, but Allen never thought it fit properly.
When Bookman was away on business, Lavi would stay with Cross and Allen. He even had his own room because of this. It's been this way ever since they were little, well, really ever since the first day they met. It was after Mana's accident, and he had just gotten used to living in the same space as Cross when he was forced to meet Lavi. Yes. He was forced. By Cross. Why? Because Cross thought that Allen needed to talk to kids his own age (which if he was being honest, he did because he seldom interacted with kids his own age before living with Cross) and Lavi wasn't necessarily…good at making friends. He had Kanda and Lenalee, but there were times Lavi got to be a little…overwhelming. Lavi was quite the hyperactive little kid when they first met (and he still was at times), and though he scared Allen half to death when they first met, the two connected almost instantly.
Allen would never forget how Lavi took everything in stride. His weird eye scar. His arm. The lack of responses Allen gave Lavi because he didn't know what to think about this new world he was thrust into without warning. It didn't faze him at all. Lavi just took one look at Allen and decided that they were going to be 'bestest best best friends,' and that was that. Lavi infused light into Allen's world, a light that he was afraid he would never see again after Mana's death.
The two were inseparable from then on. Attached to the hip. Every time they were around each other, they were touching each other in some way. A hand thrown over the shoulder, leaning up against each other, holding hands, one of their heads laying in the other's lap. Where one went, the other followed. If one was in the bathroom, one was sitting outside, blabbering about something. If one was crying, the other quickly followed suit. Many times they slept together even though they both had separate rooms. If Lavi decided to do some stupid stunt, Allen was always right there, his right-hand man. If one was sick, the other was curled up alongside, also ill.
They were a package deal, alright. They were dubbed 'Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum,' 'Double Trouble,' 'Thing 1 and Thing 2', among many others, most, of course, came from Cross. There were many times Cross swore they were twins separated at birth, which could be plausible considering Allen used to have reddish-brown hair before the accident.
Despite all of that, Allen never considered the two of them to be 'best friends' or 'brothers.' What they had was something different. It was a lot deeper, but Allen could never find a word fit to describe it. As Allen stood in front of Lavi's door, hearing the muffled screaming coming from behind the door as the other screamed into a pillow, he felt his chest ache and his eyes sting.
"Lavi, are you ok?" Allen asked, trying to reel in his own emotions. The last thing they needed was for both of them to be an angsty mess.
"Go away!" Was the answer he got. Ow. That sure stung. Especially since that was the first time Lavi told him to go away when he was upset. They'd never done that to each other before, it didn't matter what the other was going through. There were times where Cross or Anita had to separate them because they fed off of each other's emotions, but that happened very seldom. They were only taken aside when the other was in hysterics (mostly Allen) because it was easier to handle one kid in hysterics instead of two.
Well, Allen wasn't going to go away. No matter how much Lavi wanted him to or even after he got an answer. His heart wouldn't let him. So, Allen turned the doorknob and walked right in, against Lavi's wishes.
"Allen! Leave!" Lavi barked out. He was lying down on his bed, his back facing towards Allen. Allen ignored him and instead strode over to lay down beside Lavi, his arm circling around the older's body, his chin resting on his messy, red hair. Allen knew he already lost the fight as he felt his own tears silently roll down his cheeks as he laid with the other who was hugging a pillow, shaking. Allen didn't know if it was from sadness or rage, but he wasn't going anywhere. He was going to ride alongside Lavi on whatever rocky, stormy seas he was traveling on until the waters calmed again.
A small whine left Lavi's lips as he felt the other wrap himself around him, and he felt all of his composure break. The wall he attempted to build up to keep Allen away from him broke, though he knew it was futile to build it to begin with. He knew if the roles were reversed that he would do the same thing. So, the two laid there together for some time, having their little shared cry fest. One knowing why they were crying, while the other didn't.
As Lavi began to calm down, the other following suit, he choked out, "She rejected me…"
She? Rejected? Whoa, hold the phone! When did Lavi have a crush on someone, and why wasn't Allen told!? Well, shit, I didn't know it could do that, Allen thought to himself in surprise, shock, and a little bit of hurt. I mean, they told each other everything, and yet Lavi left out this detail!? Ow!?
"You didn't tell me you liked someone!" Allen huffed, his cheeks puffing up in anger as he smacked the top of Lavi's head, "When were you planning on telling me that!?"
"Ow!" Lavi yelped before he turned over to glare at Allen, his own cheeks puffing up in anger though he didn't look threatening at all. It was hard to look threatening when your eyes were puffy and red.
"I wasn't going to because you're too young to know what love is," was Lavi's statement.
"Too young!? What kinda crap is that!? I'm only two years younger than you, ya jerk!" Allen raged, but the anger was short-lived. There would be time for that later. Right now, he wanted to know who rejected him and why. Allen wanted to know whose butt he needed to be kicking, no matter what kind of rejection Lavi experienced. He didn't know why, but he was actually quite pissed off at the idea of Lavi loving someone, and he didn't know why.
"Well!?" Allen asked.
"Well, what?"
"You can't just say she rejected me and not tell me who it was or how they rejected you! Obviously, it made you upset! So!? Out with it! Who was it!?"
"It was the curly blonde girl in my class. Her name is Brittany-"
"Oh my god, Lavi, you didn't! You fell for her!? Brittany from the cheerleading squad!?"
"Yeah? So?"
"So!? Dude, she's a total bitch! I could've told you that! Anyone on the team could've told you that! She goes through guys like I go through mitarashi dango! She's totally toxic! How could you fall for her!?"
Lavi sighed and turned his back on Allen, "I knew you wouldn't understand."
"Oh, come on, Lavi, don't be like that! Look, I do get it, but you also should be logical about it! She treats her boyfriends like crap. Why put yourself in a position like that!?"
"Because it's love. Love makes you stupid and blind to the other person's flaws," Lavi huffed before burying his face in his pillow.
"Alright. Fair. So, how did she reject you?" Allen asked, gearing up for a fight. He already knew the rejection was probably not good, judging from what he knew of this girl. Allen was also super annoyed that Lavi would choose someone like her of all people. I mean, if he was gonna go for a girl over him, at least pick someone worthy! He didn't just think that…
"How do you think?"
"I can think of many different possibilities, but I'd rather hear it from you."
"I asked her out by reciting one of William Shakespeare's poems…Sonnet 18," Lavi lamented.
Allen resisted the urge to groan. Oh, dear gods above, out of all people, Lavi decided to quote a love poem, William Shakespeare no less, to her!? Granted, Allen couldn't understand anything Shakespeare himself, but even so, he would've appreciated it! Especially if it came from Lavi of all people. Lavi was terrific when it came to quoting or reading books. He transformed reality around him every time he read aloud, even if it was something totally dull like some textbook. Lavi made it fun! Besides, Lavi excelled in the drama club, and Allen knew that Lavi wouldn't have just read the poem, he would've acted it! Allen could feel himself seething with rage and jealousy at the fact that this she witch had to be the object of Lavi's affection. Allen would've melted into goo if Lavi performed a poem just for him! The only thing that girl ever appreciated was something glittery and diamond-encrusted!
"It was after practice…and I recited it in front of her friends like a total, lovesick, dumb ass," Lavi laughed scornfully* before continuing, "And when I was done…she laughed at me. It wasn't that soft, airy, kinda laugh either, like an awkward, nervous laughter. She was cackling at me and asked me why I would think she would go out with someone like me. Some guy with an eye patch that was a total factoid, nerd that always read books and hung out with losers…." Lavi recounted forlornly.
"Lavi…" Allen breathed his hand ghosting over the redhead's shoulder in sympathy. He could picture the scene clearly. He could practically feel the way Lavi's heart must've been beating as he recited that poem allowed towards his crush. How it pounded against his ribcage like a wild beast thrashing against a cage wanting freedom. He could feel his palms sweating and the tension in his body, hear the smallest of quivers in his voice. Then he could hear her hideous cackling, the mirth in those disgusting, puke green eyes (or at least that's the color it looked like to Allen). He could hear her nasally voice spitting out those words at Lavi and feel the ache in his chest before his heart dropped down to the ground. Broken. Splintering into pieces, like a plate being thrown to the ground.
"Then her friends laughed at me to…I didn't notice until after she rejected me that one of them was filming the whole thing..."
"I'm sorry…" Allen breathed, his eyes filling with tears once again. His heart hurt…a lot, but he couldn't imagine the magnitude that Lavi must be feeling.
"She told me that no one would ever love an ugly freak like me and that I should just hole myself up somewhere and die," Lavi whispered, "Then I walked away."
Allen gasped, "That fucking bitch…."
"She's right, though…I mean, there hasn't been a girl yet begging me to go to prom with them. I'm not necessarily Mr. popular…"
"That's not true! I'm sure you got plenty of girls who would want to go to prom with you! They're just too nervous to ask you!" Allen responded, holding back on saying that he would personally love to go to prom with Lavi.
"We're best friends, and we live together. You're supposed to say that," Lavi said with an eye roll.
"No, it doesn't! As your best friend, it's my job to tell you the truth, and I am doing so! Brittany doesn't know what she's missing! None of the girls at school know what they're missing! I can say that because I actually know you and I can vouch for that! You're really smart and funny! You always come up with the best ideas-!"
"That's not what Cross thinks. It's a miracle we didn't kill ourselves years ago, …especially when we decided to ride down the stairs in a box. Or that time in the summer where we tried to jump into that cheap pool we had from the roof," Lavi interjected.
"So!? Cross is an adult! It's his job to hate fun!" Allen huffed.
"There is a difference between fun and doing something that could possibly severely injure or kill you."
"Pfft whatever, you're changing the subject!" Allen interrupted before continuing, "Anyways, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me…you're really smart, funny, you come up with great ideas, you are an amazing performer, you have a cool eye patch, you're dreams of traveling the world are super interesting, your body is amazing-"
"I look like a skinny twig-"
"YOU MEAN YOU HAVE AN AMAZING BODY!" Allen yelled over Lavi's interruption, "You have the clearest, most beautiful green eye I have ever seen! You're compassionate, you are a great friend and like the best cuddler on the planet. If they're all too blind to see it, and if you're too blind to see it, then I guess I'll just date you myself!"
"Huh?" Lavi asked.
"I swear to God Lavi if you ignored me all that time-"
"I was listening, I just think I misheard you. What was the last thing you said?"
Allen blinked in confusion before stating, "You're really smart?"
"No! The last thing, not the first thing!"
"You're the best cuddler?"
"No! The very last thing you said!"
"If they're too blind to see it, then I guess I'll just-" Allen repeated before his face went a dark shade of red in realization. Oh my god, he literally just said that.
"Well, it's been a great talk Lavi, but I just realized I have a place to go to! Y-Yeah, a place far away…like under a rock-I mean a house! Yeah, Lenalee's house! I promised that I would do something with her at her house because she lives in a house and yeah! Bye! Feel better soon, " Allen stammered as he tried to make a break for it. Before Allen could fully get off of Lavi's bed, he felt the other grab his leg to keep him where he was.
"Wow! Lenalee lives in a house!? Who would've thought!" Lavi stated sarcastically before he turned serious again, "So, what is this about dating me yourself?"
"It's nothing! It just slipped out. Ya know how it is. Just being a supportive bro. Cuz that's what bros do. Yep. It's only two dudes being bros. Bros being dudes. Nothing to read into too deeply, ya know, "Allen continued to stammer.
"Yeah, because it's totally a dude thing to talk about how beautiful the other dude's eyes are, "Lavi deadpanned.
"Hey, two bros can totally compliment each other's eyes. It's not just a chick thing. Don't be like that," Allen stated.
"Fair. But telling the other bro that they'd date them?"
"It's a compliment!"
"See, I thought that, but it's obvious from how red your face got that it's not just a compliment."
"…."
"…."
"I have a skin condition…" Allen offered weakly.
Lavi gave Allen a knowing look. Allen sighed and flopped back down on Lavi's bed, his back now facing him, "Let it go, Lavi."
"Do I look like Elsa to you?"
"Hey, don't be bringing my girl Elsa into this! She is a queen!" Allen snapped.
Lavi rolled his eyes and poked Allen's side, making the other jerk in surprise.
"So…you would date me?"
"…Yeah…so?"
"In a platonic way or like in a…ya know…in the other way?"
"What do you think!?"
The two fell in silence for a long moment.
"Are you disgusted by me?" Allen asked.
"No. Why?"
"Well, I mean, we live together. We're like brothers."
"I think of it more as best friends helping each other out. I mean, where else would I go when Gramps was on one of his trips?"
"Still…isn't it wrong?"
"Life is too complicated to be evenly split down in the middle into right and wrong. Especially when feelings are involved. So, I guess it depends on how you feel. When did you begin to feel differently about me?" Lavi asked, turning around, so his back was facing Allen's.
"I don't know…I don't think my feelings ever changed. It always felt different to me. Ever since we first met," Allen explained, "I didn't really think anything of it because it seemed like you were mostly into girls anyways."
"Yeah…well, I only chased after girls because it seemed like you were set on being with Link for your entire life. I didn't think I had a chance, or that you'd ever look at me that way. I mean, I was always jealous of Link. Ever since you two became friends. Even after all these years. There was no way I could compete with someone like Link," Lavi admitted.
"Yeah, he does make pretty good sweets," Allen admitted, as he turned around to face Lavi's back, "But my stomach isn't the only way to my heart. If someone asked me…I'd have to say that you were my first love. Even if I didn't have any idea what that word meant at the time. I still don't think I even know what it means."
"So…what do we do now?" Allen asked after a few minutes of silence went by.
"Well, what do you want to do?"
"…I want to see where this leads…" Allen responded hesitantly. He was afraid of what Lavi would say.
Lavi hummed softly and turned around, so he was face to face with Allen once again. The two of them stared at each other, Allen looking shy, while Lavi looked back in certainty. Lavi sure looked a lot braver than Allen, but that was always Lavi. It wasn't often that the redhead looked uncertain. When he set his mind out to do something, he always seemed so confident that it was going to work out in the end, even if it was clearly a stupid idea. Allen could remember countless times where they were about to do some silly stunt, and he would look over at Lavi warily to see the other's look of determination. Seeing his face like that always calmed Allen in the end because no matter what happened, he knew that they would be ok. If they ended up getting hurt from their latest stunt, he knew they would be ok because he had Lavi right beside him.
So, though Allen was shy and uncertain of how to go about this new relationship dynamic they created, he knew it was going to be ok. No matter what happened, even if they eventually broke up or whatever, it was going to be ok. They were going to be ok, and nothing was ever going to change about them because of this.
Lavi moved closer, close enough that their noses were touching, his eye flitting up to meet Allen's to check his reaction, to make sure Allen wasn't getting too uncomfortable. Allen wasn't uncomfortable per se, but his heart was pounding like crazy to have Lavi this close to his face. Under any other circumstances, he wouldn't have batted an eye, but with this new context, having Lavi this close had a whole different meaning.
Then Lavi's lips connected with Allen's shaking ones and-oh! It's like in that moment everything connected so perfectly together, like all the confusion Allen felt over what their relationship exactly was, was finally solved. All that weird tension and confusion he felt fluctuating over the years finally dissipated now that he had an answer.
As Lavi eventually pulled away, much to Allen's reluctance, he asked, "Did that feel ok?"
Allen's response was to move towards Lavi to do it again. He wanted that bliss again. That clarity. He wanted to feel the way their bodies connected together so perfectly. Lavi didn't mind; in fact, he was over the moon that Allen didn't pull away in disgust. He was glad that it was reciprocated, that it didn't make things awkward between them.
"Can you recite that poem for me?" Allen asked after a few minutes of silence as they enjoyed each other's embrace, occasionally kissing each other or another part of the other's body. Just merely enjoying this newfound relationship they created.
"Hmmm?" Lavi hummed lazily. The lack of oxygen to his brain making him dazed, and his head buzz happily.
"The poem you recited to Brittany. I want you to recite it to me. Please?" Allen asked, his head tilting to the side. He wanted to see how animated Lavi would get reciting it again. He wanted to see the love in his eyes as those words floated out of his lips. Allen wanted to see that love directed at him. To appreciate that love. The love that was meant for another but was rejected. Such lovely feelings deserved to be recognized.
"Sonnet 18?" Lavi asked. Allen could see the other search the air, mentally trying to find the compartment the poem was stashed in in his brain. Allen always loved to think of Lavi's head as a computer of sorts with how much information he managed to squirrel away in it. Once Lavi located what he was looking for, that beautiful green eyes paused like a computer arrow finding the article, word, or picture it wanted to click on, then the little window popped open with the information Lavi sought for.
"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee." Lavi recited, his voice taking on an old accent that Allen heard used when he talked with Bookman and on occasion when Lavi was expressing a large amount of emotions. Neither of them would tell Allen where that accent came from, keeping it a secret that only Bookman and Lavi knew. Even so, Allen still loved it, how soft it sounded, like the wind gently rustling the leaves of trees. He loved the way Lavi would roll his r's a little bit. To Allen, it sounded almost of Scottish descent, but he couldn't be sure.
Allen admired the way Lavi's eye glittered as he recited the poem, the way the glitters would fade momentarily as his eye darkened in love, in lust, passion. Sort of like a flickering flame. This is one of the biggest reasons Allen loved to hear Lavi when he read aloud or performed a piece; he loved the light that would flicker in Lavi's eyes, the emotions sparking and coming to life.
"How was that?" Lavi asked.
"That was adorable. I can't believe she rejected you with that. She wouldn't know what love was even if it hit her in the face," Allen said happily, his cheeks alight in flattery.
"So, you understood the full extent of what that poem means?" Lavi asked, deciding to quiz Allen.
Allen's happy face dropped to one of embarrassment. No, he didn't understand a single word that Lavi said. He really sucked when it came to reading and comprehending what he was reading in general. To him, Shakespeare spoke in total gibberish. It was still romantic to see Lavi spouting off said gibberish, though.
"No…" Allen admitted.
Lavi sighed, knowing that Allen probably wouldn't, "Thought so."
"So, what does it mean?"
"The speaker is basically comparing their beloved to a summer's day. Near the end of the poem, the speaker talks about what makes their beloved different from a summer's day. Summer always ends and moves on to autumn, but the speaker tells their beloved that their beauty will always last, unlike summer," Lavi explained.
"Awwwhhh…you're a total Romeo."
"Pfft, Romeo?"
"Yeah, you know, like Romeo and Juliet?"
"Well, I would hope I would be less stupid."
"What do you mean? Why is Romeo stupid?" Allen asked.
"Oh my god, did you learn nothing from your English class?"
"I learned stuff! I learned that English makes my brain turn to mush!"
"Oh my god, Allen…" Lavi sighed.
(Ahhh, I hope this was fluffy enough where not everything was too angsty! I hope you enjoyed it <3)
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