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goggles-mcgee · 3 years

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Too Late: Alix (commission for miner249er)

Chapter 8 of the commission for @miner249er

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Summary: Alix's bad day at the end of a bad week, she just wants to be alone but she gets an unexpected visitor.

She could taste the salt of her tears and the metallic taste of blood from how hard she was biting her lip to keep her sobs under control. Alix Kubdel hardly ever cried, she hated crying, not because she thought it was weak or anything like that but personally she hated the feeling. She hated the way her eyes itched afterwards, the exhaustion that followed, and the headache that slowly made itself known. Then there was the way the dried tear stains felt on her face, like they were on display for all to see no matter how hard she scrubbed at her cheeks with her hands. Realistically she knew no one was home to see her tears but she couldn't help but feel like she had to get rid of her tears as fast as she could so no one could tell she had been crying. Jalil and her father were at the museum and would be there until closing so Alix would be home alone for a while but that did nothing to calm her worries.

Alix needed to stop crying so she could put a cold washcloth over her eyes before her dad and brother got home so neither knew she cried, but it was so hard to stop when you started. Alix loved her dad, she really did, but he tried so hard to be there emotionally for her since her and Jalil's mother just decided she wanted to up and leave and see the world. Alix was young at the time but she knew it had hurt Jalil a lot though he never spoke about it much, but when Alix started growing her dad took it upon himself to try and be both parents in one. It was a nice sentiment but really she just needed her alone time. More so now that everything in her class had gone down and consequently blown up.

Her dad had begun to hover more than usual around her, asking how she was, if everything was okay at school, if she needed to talk. And really, she got it, she did, but it was irritating her more than it was helping her and that just made her guilt grow. The feeling just grew day by day, never going away, never lessening, and Alix just wanted it to stop. She could deal with the stares her and her class got at school, she could even handle the pranks, the bullying wasn’t something new she had experienced but it had been a long time since she had to deal with it, but she would deal with it. What was eating at her was the guilt. She felt it when Marinette, who had been akumatized, came into their class and ripped into them and exposed Lila. Though that didn’t feel right, maybe she had felt it earlier but ignored it.

When Lila had shown up Alix was a little skeptical of her, she seemed too good to be true, but then again so did most of her classmates. Adrien was Paris’s Golden Boy and Top Model, not to mention the Gabriel Brand’s face. Max was a genius who made his own AI who actually experienced emotions and Max was a video game tournament champion. Rose, Juleka, and Ivan were in a band together that had fans. Alya was recognized as the creator of the Ladyblog and at the time the one and only blog to have the scoop on anything Ladybug related and to have it Ladybug approved. Nino was a DJ and he was pretty well known amongst teens and on his YouTube. Nathaniel and Marc had a comic series that was beloved by Paris. Mylene’s dad was a well known local actor and Mylene was a favorite in the Drama club. Kim was the class’s all around athlete, the boy loved every sport and it seemed like every sport loved him. Sabrina’s dad was a well known officer and Chloe’s parents were known by all.

Then there was Alix, and she didn’t want to sound like she was bragging but her dad was one of the lead Historians at the Louvre and she had won her fair share of skating competitions. Lastly there was Marinette, Marinette who had designed for Jagged Stone, Marinette who had her designs approved of the Style Queen and Gabriel Agreste. Marinette whose parents ran one of, if not the most popular Boulangerie in Paris. Clara Nightingale thought the world of her and so did many others, her kindness was brilliant if not worrisome. In short, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was an amazing human being that many looked up to, that many were maybe jealous of.

Maybe that's why Alix and the class didn't question Lila when she came to the class spinning fantastic tales of tinnitus, kittens and best friends. Their class was full of amazing, capable, connected people, Lila was just another one, or so they believed. She sounded like another Marinette, or, and Alix hated to admit it, a better Marinette. Lila had more skills-yet only in name, she had more connections-the list grew day by day, she had better connections, and she was more genuine and reliable-her charities were more than enough proof...right? Alix would be lying if she said she wasn't impressed by the connections and thought about asking Lila to set up a meeting with her and her favorite skaters. Alix would have never thought to ask Marinette, even if she did have the connections, she couldn't really explain it well but asking Marinette would have made her feel bad. Marinette already did so much and they never really thanked her, and everytime Alix thought about it she would feel bad and worry that the girl was going to overwork herself. Then again, Marinette had never said no so the class just kept asking for favors and it really was no excuse but Alix would get caught up in excitement for things she wanted like banners or treats or a formal tux for events at the museum. Yet, there was just something about asking Marinette if it was possible for Alix and of course the class to meet Jagged Stone or Clara Nightingale.

Then Lila came and offered to make all these connections happen. It...It was like she made it known she wouldn’t mind if you asked to make connections with someone you were interested in. It made guilt swim and settle in her stomach to remember thinking that she, they, didn’t really need Marinette anymore. Lila was better, Lila was more connected, Lila was flawed. Alix wasn’t stupid, she noticed the way Lila spoke, Lila was bragging but doing it subtlety by telling her stories. She was sure others noticed too, they had too, but then Marinette had said Lila was lying, and it wasn’t a one-off thing either. She claimed...no, she tried to warn them so often that they just took to ignoring her. Well...most took to just ignoring her, others got annoyed, played some pranks, but now that Alix thought of it Lila had suggested the pranks in a way that made it seem like it was the class’s idea.

The more she remembered the sicker she felt and the more tears would fall. Marinette had always seemed perfect even with her clumsiness, it awed the class but she knew it also made them envious. So when Marinette had been warning them that Lila was lying and too good to be true, they ignored her or responded in hurtful ways because they could, because they felt just that bit better that Marinette wasn’t this perfect being of sweetness and talent and justice. It was bitter and horrible but Alix felt only a little better knowing she wasn’t the only one who felt like that, the girl group talked about it at sleepovers and even Kim and Max had admitted it to her. She wished she hadn’t been so star-struck or bitter, she wished she had been more willing to believe Marinette, but she dismissed her. Alix dismissed her friend out of awe for another, jealousy that she knew she had no real reason to feel, the words of others like Alya who said Marinette was only saying that Lila was a liar because the Italian was getting close to Adrien.

She shouldn’t have placed all her belief that Alya or Max would fact check things and surely would have told them if Lila was actually the silver-tongued fox that Marinette claimed. Alix should have done her own research, after all, a good Historian checks their sources and gathers their own evidence, and in the words of Carl Sagan that seem to eerily apply to her class’s situation, “Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.” The worst thing is Alix did check some things that Lila had claimed and when she found them to be false she just figured Lila must have forgotten details, or that she just wanted some attention and that surely her classmates also knew not to take everything at face value. But that’s what they did. That’s what they all did.

Her dad wanted her to talk to a therapist about it, because even if she tried to hide how it was affecting her, he knew. He always did, and boy did that make her feel worse. Everything seemed to be making her feel worse. Then the bullying, because there really wasn’t anything else to call it, that happened today in the park was just the cherry on top of her “bad” day. Nino and Alya had been absent again, everyone just seemed so lifeless, and the stares and the snide remarks were just too much to handle today. Alix was grateful that Aurore and Mireille had stood up for her but some part of her wished they didn’t, some part of her believed she deserved it. ‘No one deserves to be bullied.’ She could hear Marinette say in her mind and that made the tears run faster.

Alix curled a blanket around her small form as she wept and clutched it to her chest as close as she could. She didn’t even have the energy to grab one of the few stuffed plushies she had, she remembered fondly teasing Rose about her favorite unicorn plushie and the bet they had made about Marinette and her love-life yet again. That seemed like a lifetime ago, but it was a happy time and Alix yearned for that familiarity and carefree happiness back. She would do anything to just go back and do it all over, she had even planned on it before she remembered she no longer had her family watch that had actually been a Miraculous. Her future self had it, which is still something she hadn’t told her father, but like so many times before, Alix wished she still had it.

If she did she would...she would obviously go back before any of this happened. She would make sure Marinette never got akumatized. How she would ensure that she didn’t know but she felt like it would have to do with Lila. Maybe she would just make it so Lila never transferred to Collège Françoise Dupont. If she couldn’t do that then she would just make sure no one believed Lila’s lies! Anything! She would do anything if it meant getting Marinette back and being her friend again. She took that friendship for granted...and that was a mistake she was living with and hated immensely. She hated Lila Rossi. Most importantly, she hated herself for not doing more, for not questioning more, and for not believing in Marinette more. It was those thoughts that wrenched another sob from her and made her pull the blanket in her hands closer to smother the sound of her sobs.

Before she could have even begun to think about getting up and trying to make herself look like she didn’t just cry her eyes out, Alix felt a weird energy that made her sit up and look around. It felt like every hair on her body was raised, goosebumps raised in a wave and there was just this thing, this static, this energy that made her nose twitch. Then a noise appeared, it popped into existence before it changed to a sort of whirring sound and finally, finally Alix saw a ring of blue begin to open up in the middle of her room. She watched even when the light from the familiar looking portal started to hurt her eyes, she watched until she saw Bunnyx come fully out of the portal, and she watched as said portal disappeared before she made her move.

“Hey mini-me-” Alix didn’t waste a second before she launched herself at her older self and hugged her and just cried whatever tears she had left. If she was here maybe there was something they could do. Maybe that’s why Bunnyx was here because she needed Alix’s help and all of this would just be a horrible nightmare of a memory.

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s wrong mini-me? Wait...nevermind, I remember. Do you want to talk about it?” Bunnyx asked as she led them to Alix’s bed and sat them on the edge before letting her transformation drop.

“No.” Alix sniffled. “Yes. But like, you know what happened so wouldn’t it be pointless?”

“It’s more like my brain reboots the memories of whatever timeline I’m in, so in a way I remember but not everything. I remember sadness. I remember some vague, mean and cliche kids being bullies. I just don’t remember the specifics.” Bunnyx, since it was easier to refer to her as Bunnyx than just future Alix, explained.

“Yeah...I mean it’s nothing I-we haven’t dealt with before but with the whole Marinette akuma and disappearance thing happening...it’s like everyone feels like they have some kind of justification for bullying, I mean they’ve shoved me and Rose into lockers for crying out loud! As if that would be something Marinette would be okay with! Everything! The whole world just...it’s wrong now that she’s gone.” Alix lamented as she stood up and paced the space in front of her bed. “But that’s why you’re here right? We’re going to go fix this, right?”

Alix watched as Bunnyx gave her a sad smile before closing her eyes and shaking her head, it looked like the energy was just sapped from her. “No. I came because-”

“No? What do you mean ‘no?’ This-this timeline is wrong! It’s-It’s wrong and broken and we need to fix it.”

“Alix...there’s nothing we can do about the past in this timeline. This timeline was already born, maybe even before us, and we can’t just go back and try to change it. There is always a price to pay when it comes to time. We could make it worse, or destroy it. There’s a reason why we didn’t get our Miraculous until we were older, and there’s a reason why our Miraculous is the Miraculous of the last defense. Miraculous cannot be used for selfish means.”

“How is making sure Marinette never got akumatized selfish? How is maybe making it so Lila Rossi never came to our school selfish? That sounds like problems solved to me.”

“Those things aren’t what are putting this timeline in danger, mini-me.” Bunnyx said with such confidence and full of such sorrow and anxiety it made Alix’s own frenzied thoughts halt.

“What do you mean,” Alix asked carefully as she sat beside Bunnyx. “This timeline is in danger?”

Bunnyx took in a shaky breath before she spoke. “I had a dream about this timeline, and a dream for us is really more of a possibility. It’s not exactly a premonition because it doesn’t have to happen but the probability of it happening is...higher than it should be. In the dream I saw a war. And not a typical one which is bad to say.”

“A war.” The words left Alix in a rush along with her breath.

“A war. A war that if not stopped will cover this world in darkness and death. The one who starts the war...I can never see them clearly, they are in the skies, but they feel familiar and at the same time they’re a stranger to me. To us. I saw fire, so much fire, and the air was filled with roars and screeches that shook the earth. I can’t go too much in detail but I also didn’t see much to begin with, but when I had this...dream, this vision, I knew I had to warn someone.”

“And that was me?”

“Ladybug wasn’t an option this time...you’re the only one I can count on, the only one I can warn mini-me.” Bunnyx confessed.

“What...what am I supposed to do? I don’t even have a Miraculous! I’m...I can’t even get up the nerve to tell dad and Jalil to shut up when they’re fighting. Whether it be about Egyptian history or about whether Agreste Senior was Hawkmoth or not. Their fighting has gotten worse too! What am I supposed to do?” Alix could feel her panic rising. She understood why Bunnyx warned her but at the same time she wished she hadn’t. Alix was just a kid dealing with bullies. What could she do that could help prevent some horrific war?

“You’ll figure it out Alix, we always do. I believe in you, which is kind of you believing in yourself already but, you need to believe in yourself too kiddo. I know you feel angry, and sad, and guilty. You made a mistake and it seems like you know that, and accept it, but you also need to forgive yourself or you’ll be stuck in the past. And that’s no way to live.” Bunnyx stood from her place on the bed before nodding her head at Alix’s desk where she saw a floating creature. It probably would have freaked her out if she hadn’t felt so mentally and emotionally drained. She watched as Bunnyx called for her transformation and opened a portal.

“How will I know what to do?”

“You’ll know, we have good gut-instincts, listen to them. I promise mini-me, we can get through this.”

Alix watched as Bunnyx left through her portal and there was still panic but mostly she just felt numb, but she couldn’t ignore the voice in the back of her head that was trying to connect Marinette’s akumatization and disappearance with what future her had just told her about. Maybe it was just her further obsessing over those events and wanting them to be the root of the problem because that would justify her anger and pain, or maybe it was instinct.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #ml salt fic #ml class salt #lila rossi salt #lila rossi lies exposed #angst #hurt and comfort #alix kubdel #ml bunnyx #rota #revolt of the akuma #goggles writing #goggles-mcgee commission #goggles commission #marinette dupain cheng

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falsegoodnight · 3 years

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these are the fics I read or reread and enjoyed this month! like last time, i’m separating it into different sections: main list, podfics, wips, and non-1d. rereads will be included in the main list and marked with *.

*note: this list encompasses the fics i’ve read from the 1st to the 25th and any fics read after will be included in next month’s fic rec list because otherwise this is going to be obnoxiously long.

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main list ~

✰ black cherries and chocolate by @harryanthus | NR | 666 (intense and jarring in the best way. this leaves you with that heart-racing feeling and panic crawling up your throat)

There is something or well, someone in the walls.

✰ keep secrets just to keep you by @hadestyles | T | 1k (loved this so much!! and need 1000000 more royalty abos from rori immediately)

“With the elements as my witness, I take you to be my husband. My heartbeat begins with you and ends with you, Louis Tomlinson.” Louis sinks to his knees as well, salty tears mixing with the pure rainwater. “And I take you as mine. My heart beats for you and with you.”

✰ bitter coffee and sweet love by @dontfuckwithmyotp | G | 1k (so cute and sweet!! proud of you ari for getting your first fic out and excited to see what you do next!)

“Hello! Welcome to The Busy Bean! Are you new?” Louis blinked in surprise at the voice and looked around to find the source. “Behind you,” The person tapped his shoulder once and he whirled around at the unexpected touch.

“Hey! Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to interrupt a person—” His rant stopped when he finally faced them. It was a guy—Harry Styles, according to his small black name tag. His eyes widened in embarrassment.

✰ turn your mic off, baby by @vogueharrystan | E | 2k (i love when lilli writes harry’s pov. this was so hot!)

Louis walks around the house naked all day and ignores Harry to play video games instead. Harry gets tired of it.

✰ This Could Be Love by mulletharry | G | 2k (such a cute and perfect little valentine’s day fic! put the biggest smile on my face <3)

Harry and Louis have been together for four months. They spend their first Valentine’s Day together.

✰ you appear as my soul by @hadestyles | T | 2k (so gorgeous and raw)

He aches — not as much as Louis, he could never imagine all that he bears quietly — and as cruel as it sounds, it keeps reminding him of how fragile they are.

✰ the energy from your body by sweetielouis | E | 3k (hilarious, hot, and cute!)

Harry and his friends have a popular podcast, for the Valentines Day special they get a bit drunk and talk a bit too comfortably about their friends arses.

It's a good thing Louis doesn't mind it all that much.

✰ look how i remember by @harryanthus | M | 4k (this left me speechless and aching)

He hates it, he wants to scream and tell Harry as much. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me as if we are in love. Kiss me like you will never do it again. Kiss me with so much hatred that it turns back to love.

✰ Things Unsaid by @londonfoginacup | G | 5k (so so cute and funny!!)

"That chunky oversized sweater is like a clown outfit made for winter."

It feels like time slows down.

Those words echo in his mind, familiar. Why are they familiar? The— the sweater he saw last week. The one with all the knit squares.

The train slows to a stop and Louis just— he doesn’t move. He feels frozen in place as people surge around him. Suddenly everyone is moving too fast and then just as suddenly the car is near empty, taking off again.

The man is gone.

His soulmate is gone.

✰ reckless serenade by @thepolourryexpress | E | 4k (adorable and funny and amazing!)

Harry's Google search history may or may not look like 'my girlfriend doesn't know we're dating.'

✰ dancing in the moonlight by @outropeace | E | 5k (need 100k more of this immediately, thanks. so wonderful)

Louis’ fuck buddy gets a date for Valentine’s day and he discovers that denial isn’t just a river in Egypt.

✰ The truth is, the stars are falling by larrysbeanies | E | 5k (hot!!! walking-in trope that i love so much)

Harry knows Louis is gay. Hell, he came out to Harry exactly two months ago (when the dreadful dry spell started) because it was becoming increasingly hard to hide the fact that his one night stands were men. And, you know, they’re best friends so there aren’t supposed to be secrets and all that.

Thing is, Louis told Harry he’s gay ergo, Harry is aware that Louis likes men. Why the fuck did he act so normal while fingering him three days ago, then? Is this something straight guys do to their gay best friends in Harry’s world?

Louis would really like to know.

✰ to be used and to be in love by @thelesserneptune | E | 5k (blessed that this is a series. really hot and cute!)

Louis doesn't know why his filthy best friend turned into a vanilla boyfriend and thinks of the perfect birthday present to solve that problem.

✰ on the borderline by @princelouisau | E | 8k (the way danielle writes... poetry. this broke me down and then stitched me back up <3)

Louis makes his choice.

✰ One Step Closer by agrinwithouthiscat | G | 12k (reading asexual hl fics is instant comfort and this was lovely)

The one fake relationship AU where they don't end up together.

✰ i glow pink in the night by @raspberryoatss | E | 12k (hybrid louis perfection, beautiful writing, characters, and story as always!)

Harry reads a lot of articles about hybrids and Louis is determined to prove them wrong.

✰ The Thinker of Tender Thoughts by @speakingwithink | G | 13k (asexual hl again! this one made me cry)

Louis sits on his hands to stop them from shaking as he adds, ‘and I’m ace.’ If only he had glitter, he thinks. Coming out deserves a bit of sparkle.

✰ Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice by @harriblou | M | 13k (enemies with benefits to lovers goodness! so hot and entertaining)

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that,” Harry muttered through clenched teeth, bones already burning with the pure desire and hatred mixing in his body. It was an intoxicating rush of adrenaline and something else that probably came with fucking Louis Tomlinson. He squeezed his neck just a little tighter. “I can’t stand it.”

Their lips were brushing against each other, just moving with the ragged movements of their mouths and harsh breathing.

“You’re a lying piece of shit dickhead,” Louis muttered right back. That was all he did, challenge and nag. He loved to have the last word and Harry let him because he used all his energy to fuck him mindless.

✰ hold onto your stars by vashtaneradas | NR | 16k (this writer’s atmosphere/prose draws me in every time. such a lovely story)

Harry's in the army, Louis' back home, and ninety days is a lifetime.

✰ The Future is Now by @jacaranda-bloom | E | 16k (love fics in this five times format and this one was so unique and cool!! and the friends to lovers aspect = chef’s kiss)

Five times Louis follows the fortunes to seek out his true love, and the one time he realises that what he's been searching for might've been right in front of him the whole time.

✰ Visceral Heat & Carnal Highs by @theisolatedlily | E | 18k (the prose in this... gorgeous. so fucking good and addicting. delighted that there’s going to be a sequel and excited for whatever lily does next!)

Louis is a demon at a house party prowling for a meal, indulging in horrendous sins to satisfy his hunger. Harry is the talk of the night, beckoning all eyes on him and the reason why Louis’s plan goes awry.

✰ deFENCEless by @solvetheminourdreams | T | 27k (this was so cute and so funny and i had the biggest smile on my face the entire time. not surprised since stef always evokes that in me with her writing)

When Louis butts heads with his new neighbor who loves to garden a little too much, all he can do to protect his yard (and heart), is keep on building up his fence(s).

✰ darling, you give love a bad name by snowcaplou | M | 29k (been waiting for this one since summer and i wasn’t disappointed! so wonderful and real!)

Louis’ has been best friends with Gemma all his life in this stupid little town he’s grown to hate. What happens when, after one night together with his best friend’s brother, he falls pregnant? Surrounded by small minds and conservative cultures, Louis has to deal with parents that demand they do the “right” thing. Get married before anybody finds out.

✰ The Haunting of Louis Tomlinson* by @helloamhere | T | 31k (will never not be an all-time favorite. louis’ character is my absolute favorite - gothic heroine indeed - and harry is the best dramatic gay ghost ever <3)

Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

✰ begged and borrowed time by @bottomlwt | M | 40k (this concept was so unique and so cool!! loved the medieval setting and the time travel and how everything fit together in the end!!)

“It wasn’t until 1568 that it became time for Prince Harry to find a queen and prepare to rule. However, the day he was set to choose his bride-to-be, he mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen again despite the multiple search parties that went on through the years. To this day, historians still do not know what happened with the infamous Prince Styles case..."

✰ Lidocaine and Palm Trees.* by @daddyharrie | E | 45k (definition of ris comfort read - on nth reread and still love it wholly. makes me miss la which is an astonishing feat in itself)

Heat, fake tans and lots of traffic.

Harry never expected to earn his living this way when he moved to LA.

Louis didn't think he could ever be the same after his divorce.

A lighthearted story about two guys trying to find themselves in the vibrant, sprawling city of Los Angeles, with a side of technical porn industry stuff.

✰ haunted by the ghost of you* by @missandrogyny | E | 49k (perhaps my favorite fic of all time? the humor, the characters, the angst?!?! all the britney spears!! and pink ouija boards and wikihow!!)

He’s tall—that’s the first thing that registers in Louis’ head when he spots him, standing with his hands behind his back. Tall, with curly hair, staring at them with the widest, greenest eyes Louis has ever seen. And wait, are those dimples? Louis didn’t know ghosts could have dimples.

Because he’s definitely a ghost, this boy. At first glance he looks normal, standing there pigeon-toed in a band shirt (The Ramones, Louis can’t help but note incredulously), dark jeans, and some boots, with rings on both hands, and tattoos littering his left arm—a sleeve made of anchors and names and roses and other completely unrelated things. But he’s also a little bit translucent; if Louis focuses, he can see the outline of the furniture, the design of the wallpaper through him.

“Hi,” the boy—the ghost—says to Louis. His face shifts; somehow his dimples dig deeper into his cheeks. His eyes flit from Louis, to Niall, to Liam, and finally to Zayn, and his face goes from shocked to elated. “I’m Harry.”

At in that exact moment, standing between three of his best friends and staring at a (quite handsome) ghost, Louis can only think one thing.

Nick Grimshaw was right.

✰ like real people do by @eeveelou | E | 64k (this was... so amazing. the characters were so wonderfully written and so was the journey of healing and growth that louis undertakes over the story :’) loved the contrast between l and h’s lives and how they fit into each other still so perfectly)

Jessica Jones AU in which the dead stay where they belong, featuring Zayn as the high-powered lawyer with a hopeless crush on his assistant Liam, Niall as the constantly stoned but strangely insightful neighbor, Harry as Manhattan’s media darling, and Louis as the never-was hero who’s just trying to pick up the pieces.

✰ Black With Autumn Rain by whimsicule | T | 93k (i actually can’t remember if i’ve read this before??? either way - it was wonderful! loved the setting and atmosphere and the supernatural elements! i was so intrigued from the first sentence onwards)

Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren’t exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

podfics ~

✰ tall stories on the page by @soldouthaz & read by @softlouislove | T (hannah’s voice is so lovely and perfect for reading aloud - and ofc the fic itself is amazing)

Harry's tired of being interviewed by people that only care about the same pointless gossip. Louis is a nice change of pace.

wips ~

✰ Truth Behind Golden Eyes by @lwtisloved | E | 60k | 6/16 (just caught up fully today but i’m really enjoying everything! this is everything i’ve ever wanted in a fantasy fic)

Louis is a royal servant born with magic in a kingdom where his sole existence is outlawed with a war he has no idea he has a part in upon him. Harry is the prince on whom the burden of mending a broken kingdom falls upon and he might be willing to risk it all for a simple servant if only he admitted it to himself.

✰ ‘cause all our tomorrows lead the way by @loubellies | E | 39k | 3/10 (having a blast reading this one!! i’ve never seen the bachelor in my life but in fic-format, it’s so fun!)

So maybe Louis’ in over his head.

He had signed up for the Bachelor on a whim after his second bottle of wine and well, here he is. He’s just been announced as the twenty-sixth Bachelor and his ass is sweating. Like, literally sweating. He’s positive that if he was to turn around, the entirety of Bachelor Nation would get a nice peek of his ass sweat.

✰ The Night Still Whispers Sins of Old by @toomanydreamers | E | 6k | 2/? (loving this so much, as expected. can’t wait to see how everything unfolds)

Two and a half years have passed since the fateful day when Louis and Harry were crowned Triwizard champions. Confronted with misunderstandings, wounded pride and heartache, Louis stumbled away from the possibility of a future relationship with Harry. Instead, he buried himself into relentless work as a junior Auror and refused to let himself be vulnerable with another person. Circumstances change that force Louis to confront his feelings - and Harry. Stolen glances, picnics at sunrise, thrilling adventures, original spellwork, midnight feasts, soft lips and cautious second chances culminate in an unforgettable mission - but will it be enough to mend their relationship?

non-1d ~

✰ like a bullet needs a gun by @millsxwriting | T | 21k | wilds au (despite me having no context, mills still got me to fall in love with toni and shelby. this was so cute and lovely!!)

Toni doesn’t expect to fall for anyone in her senior year. Least of all for Shelby Goodkind, the new girl that arrived in town just before the end of summer. In fact, Toni can’t even look at her for longer than two seconds, or listen to more than three sentences coming out of her mouth without wanting to accidentally push her off a cliff.

Cue a group project and endless bickering, and suddenly Toni finds herself with an unbearable crush.

If you read any of these beautiful works of art, remember to leave kudos and comment to show your appreciation!

*if i made any errors, please let me know :)

enjoy!

#fic recs #my fic recs #28th appreciation #february recs #2021 recs #february 2021 recs #scheduled

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montaguehphm · 4 years

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Hogwarts Mystery Asks: Jacob Donohue

I decided to finally compile my answers for this lovely questionnaire by @batgirl-87 and @cptaincarswell and answer the whole thing so people could get to know my iteration of Jacob better. The original intention is for followers to send which questions they want answers, but I decided to answer everything now after doing some of the questions a few weeks ago with some changes here and there. So, here you go. Enjoy!

Full name & nickname(s)?

Jacob Erhard Donohue

When was Jacob born?

7th October 1963

What does Jacob look like?

Jacob and Montague look very similar in that they both have thick eyebrows, round brown eyes, rich dark hair, and require glasses. Jacob, however, has darker skin, smaller eyes, cheekbones (like their father), and an undercut compared to Montague’s tan skin and messy hair. Nowadays, Jacob sports a nice clean beard and a messy bun with his undercut in an attempt to look like one of those “rugged hipster biker boys who work as historians”.

Do you two have any other siblings?

None other. The Donohue parents decided two children was enough.

What is your MC’s relationship like with Jacob?

Prior to Jacob’s disappearance, Montague and Jacob were always close. Jacob would send Montague owls every week about his school life and all the cool things that happened at Hogwarts. Montague, in return, would send Jacob drawings of his older brother and his best friend, Duncan Ashe, and a creative interpretation of the events Jacob mentions in his letters and all about the things he’s learning while their mother brings Montague to work. When Jacob became a third year, he would send Montague some Honeydukes sweets, specifically Peppermint Toads, along with his letters to him and his parents. In the summers, Jacob would even try to teach Montague some cool spells he learned over the course of his enrollment at Hogwarts.

The one topic Jacob never talked about were the Cursed Vaults, a secret he kept from his brother because he didn’t want to have Montague tangled with R like he was. When Jacob disappeared because of the Cursed Vaults, Montague was shaken to his core because his brother never told him about the Vaults. He believed it wasn’t true at first because he believed his brother would tell him everything, but at some point, he started thinking that maybe he doesn’t really know his brother at all. In fact, he even believed that everything his brother told him in all those letters were lies.

After Jacob was located and reunited with Montague after the former disapparated from the Portrait Vault, Montague lashed out at his brother for leaving him just when they finally found each other again, for keeping the Cursed Vaults a secret from him, for lying to him, and for everything he felt inside. Jacob understood the hurt and pain he caused Montague and his family for entangling himself in such a dangerously ambitious excursion, but managed to apologize to Montague for the pain and stress his dangerously foolish decisions have caused. He assured his younger brother, however, that he never once lied to Montague about anything in his letters (except for the parts about Duncan) and that he only kept the Cursed Vaults a secret from Montague and their family for their own safety.

They eventually made amends and became much closer than ever. When the war against R was won, Jacob attended Montague’s graduation party at The Three Broomsticks with his family and friends.

What is Jacob’s relationship like with your parents?

Jacob had a good relationship with his parents prior to his disappearance. Converse to Montague's close relationship with their mother, Jacob was closer to their father, who also would bring Jacob to his work in his earlier years. Seeing how passionate his father was about his job perhaps ignited Jacob's taste for danger. Mrs. Donohue, on the other hand, would worry a bit more about Jacob getting too passionate about things that were dangerous. She did take pride in how well Jacob excelled in school, given her children's natural intelligence and flair for academic excellence. Every year during the summer break, she would take Montague and Jacob to some Muggle attractions around London and they would have a grand time together, especially at their favorite bakery.

When Jacob disappeared, his parents were devastated. While their reputation in the Ministry was also put into question because of it, they were more concerned over the safety and well-being of their missing eldest, leading Mr. Donohue to request for several investigations into the Cursed Vaults, none of which were allowed for reasons the family couldn't understand. Mrs. Donohue had to keep a strong front, given her high-ranking position in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. At home, it was not as happy as it used to be, but they tried to keep it together for Montague, who understood and knew just how hard his parents took Jacob's disappearance.

When Jacob resurfaced, he was able to contact his parents but had to keep communication to a minimum for their safety. This lifted a great weight from their hearts, knowing that Jacob is alive and well, but worried that both their children are in grave danger. After the war against R was over, Jacob was able to reunite with his whole family, which ended in a tearful embrace and an exchange of stories over the events that transpired.

What is his wand?

Pine, Phoenix Feather, 14 ½ inches, Unyielding

Pine wands always choose an independent, individual master who may be perceived as a loner, intriguing and perhaps mysterious. Pine wands enjoy being used creatively, and unlike some others, will adapt unprotestingly to new methods and spells. Many wandmakers insist that pine wands are able to detect, and perform best for, owners who are destined for long lives, including Garrick Ollivander who had never personally known the master of a pine wand to die young.

Phoenix feather wands are always the pickiest when it comes to potential owners, for the creature from which they are taken is one of the most independent and detached in the world. These wands are the hardest to tame and to personalize, and their allegiance is usually hard won. A wand of this flexibility finely tunes itself to its original owner’s preferences and doesn’t stray from those preferences, even in the hands of a new owner; the new owner will just have to get used to it. It is particularly good for combative and healing magic.

Unyielding wand owners tend to be very confident in themselves and/or in the things they believe in. They tend to be intelligent, somewhat cynical, and usually have well-defined principles that they will not stray from ever. Sometimes, this combination can lead to arrogance because of them insisting on how right they are without considering other points of view or whether or not they might be wrong.

What is his favorite subject?

His best subjects were Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and Herbology. Among those four, he had the deepest inclination to DADA, most likely because of his father's influence as an Auror.

What is his least favorite subject?

While the topic of history was interesting to Jacob, he absolutely hated History of Magic because of the ever-so-boring Professor Binns.

Who is his favorite professor?

Professor Filius Flitwick was not only Jacob’s Head of House, but he was also incredibly patient and paternal with Jacob, especially given how much trouble Jacob constantly got himself into during his time at Hogwarts. Flitwick was Jacob’s go-to professor for any concerns he had with improving on his magical abilities. In turn, Jacob excelled in Charms and even got an O in his O.W.L.’s and was even destined to excel in his Charms N.E.W.T. Flitwick did not want to see his star student face expulsion, but given the overwhelming evidence against Jacob, he had no choice but to let the expulsion happen.

An honorable mention for this is Professor Pomona Sprout, who noted not only Jacob’s adeptness for Herbology, but also how his kind and caring nature was an essential part of his success in the subject. Jacob successfully garnered an O in his Herbology O.W.L. and proceeded to N.E.W.T. levels. She was among the group of professors who didn’t want Jacob expelled, but had no choice as well.

Who is his least favorite professor?

Professor Cuthbert Binns. He was incredibly boring.

What House is Jacob in? (I know he’s supposed to be in your mc’s same House but is he really in the same house as your mc?)

Jacob Donohue is a Ravenclaw, but he was also a hatstall for Gryffindor, which somewhat disappointed Professor Sprout when she got to see Jacob's kind and caring side during her classes when Hufflepuff wasn’t even considered during Jacob’s hatstall. Jacob's most prized trait is his intelligence, a trait that Montague and Mrs. Donohue also prized. Jacob was also one of the most academically gifted students of his year, if not the most, excelling in every required class and elective he took.

Did he play Quidditch? Was he a fan of the game? Or not so much?

While he was actually a far better flyer than Montague, he never played Quidditch. He wasn't particularly close with the sport, but he appreciated it enough. He would even cheer for his friends who made the team. When he became romantically involved with fellow Ravenclaw Calum O'Connor, who was also the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain at the time, he gained more interest in the sport.

Did he have any pets?

He has a Great Horned Owl named Mercury and a Kneazle named Diana.

What are his top 3 positive personality traits?

Intelligent: Jacob prized his clever nature as he relies on this to help him ease through a situation, especially with the Cursed Vaults and earning O’s in all of his O.W.L.’s. He also attributes his ability to solve problems well to his out-of-the-box thinking and his quick wit.

Good-Hearted: Professor Pomona Sprout noted his kind and caring nature. Jacob has always been a kind and caring person, most especially to his brother, Montague. He was also noted for how much help he would give underclassmen when they were having academic troubles without anything in exchange.

Courageous: Jacob would basically do everything in his power to protect his loved ones, even if that meant sacrificing a bright future for himself to keep them safe from R.

What are his top 3 negative personality traits?

Stubborn: After his imprisonment in the Portrait Vault, Jacob became at times hardly dissuaded from his beliefs, a trait that Montague noted became much more event some time after the brothers reunited. His stubbornness led him to be quite secretive as well, refusing to give any information and preferring to do things on his own.

Arrogant: At times, Jacob’s ego over his smarts would get the better of him and would bruise him quite badly. His arrogance over his intelligence also would translate to a stubbornness to change his opinions over something, which could be quite detrimental.

Reserved: This isn’t necessarily a negative trait. Sometimes, being reserved allows Jacob to make rational decisions. In worse cases, however, he doesn’t acknowledge how he really feels about a situation till it’s too late and he explodes into a ball of intense reactions.

What does Amortentia smell like to him?

What is his patronus?

Granian Winged Horse

“A Granian Winged Horse can represent an owner who is stronger minded, the owner of this patronus will never give up on there opinion no matter how much others try to change there mind. The owner of this patronus is also incredibly witty and intelligent much like Ravenclaw, who are witty and intelligent as well!”

(description from @hogwartswelcomesyou)

Fun fact: Both Donohue brothers had winged horse patronuses before Montague’s patronus became an occamy after his wedding. Montague’s used to be an Abraxan Winged Horse.

Is he an animagus?

No, he isn’t. He did think that if he could be one, he’d like to be a huge bird like a Philippine eagle. Also...

What is his boggart?

Watching his family be executed by R, specifically by Patricia Rakepick, who would say that everything really is Jacob’s fault that everything turned out the way it did.

What were his career goals?

At first, he wanted to join his father and become an Auror. He thought it would be a fun idea to be a father-and-son duo. Later on, he decided to change course and become a Curse-Breaker.

What were his hobbies?

Like Montague, Jacob had a thing for the arts. He loved sketching, which was one of his favorite ways of recalling an event when he tries to put things down in his diary. He also enjoys cooking without magic because it gives him a sense of control and achievement when he’s able to do it without a help of a spell. He also loves a good book with a hot mug of cocoa by the fireplace (or the furnace in the tent, if he’s traveling) before bed.

Favorite magical creature?

As a child, he was a huge fan of Hippogriffs. He always wanted one as a travel companion to take to the skies someday. He also has a soft spot for kneazles, crups, and puffskeins.

Why did he get involved with the Cursed-Vaults?

Jacob’s involvement initially began as a curiosity that needed to be satisfied. The way his mind works is that the more he ignores something he wants to solve, the more desperately urgent it begins to feel that he needs to solve it. His curiosity and the involvement of his friends, Duncan Ashe and Olivia Green, drove him deeper into this obsession to prove the existence of the Vaults. His partnering and eventual manipulation by R turned the whole thing into a necessity for survival not only for himself, but for those he loved and held dearly.

In what state do you think you’ll find Jacob in? (alive, dead, death eater, etc.?)

Jacob is found alive and trapped in a portrait in the Portrait Vault during Montague's fifth year. They had a quick and joyful reunion before Jacob found out that Madame Rakepick lead them to the Portrait Vault. He decided to chase after her in an attempt to stop her while the trail was still hot, leaving Montague and his friends behind.

If Jacob survives, what future do you see for him?

After Montague's graduation, Jacob decided to take an indefinite break from anything dangerous and life-threatening and took up a more calm and cyclical lifestyle. He bought himself a small fairytale-like cottage somewhere in Surrey. He decided to live a more routinely life and become a Healer at St. Mungo's for patients who got into terrible and traumatic incidents. He found solace in caring for them because he understood these patients. Outside of St. Mungo's, he does a sideline of growing fresh potion ingredients and develop some quality fertilizer in his greenhouse, which delighted Professor Sprout. She would ask Jacob to do some guest lectures for her prior to her retirement. He also took up baking and floral arranging to help himself out when he can.

In regards to having a love life, he does eventually have one. Back in Hogwarts, Jacob dated Asher Davies, who was the brother of Montague's former prefect, Chester (yes, that Chester). Asher was a Ravenclaw prefect a year below him who did reciprocate Jacob’s feelings and dated him for six months, but mutually decided that it wasn’t going to work out between them. At some point as grown-ups, Asher spotted Jacob exiting a coffee shop in London one afternoon. The two shared a happy albeit awkward hug when the two saw each other. Asher invited Jacob, who was planning to head home after his shift, for a drink at The Leaky Cauldron to catch up. Jacob said yes. After a couple months of seeing each other, they decided to try their luck and become exclusive again. (I can write more about this if y’all want that.)

During the Second Wizarding War, he joins the Order of the Phoenix as a Healer and helping other Order members with debriefings. He was asked to consider being a Scout alongside Montague, but he convinced himself that he wasn’t ready for field work after all the things he experienced with the Cursed Vaults. He fought valiantly, however, at the Battle of Hogwarts and survived after dueling a number of former R members who've allied with Voldemort's forces. During the down time in between battles and after the second battle, he volunteered to assist Madame Pomfrey to help heal and comfort the injured.

After the war, Jacob resumed his life as a Healer at St. Mungo's, growing potion ingredients, baking, and floral arrangements. However, a few months after Montague and Barnaby's wedding, Jacob couldn't help but wonder what if he went back to the field and tried to become the Curse-Breaker he wanted to be till he could no longer resist the urge to do it.

He eventually decided to retire from St. Mungo's and began to offer his help to his little Curse-Breaker brother by supplying the research and co-planning the strategies whenever a big client came up. On his first mission since forever, he was a bit rusty with his defensive and offensive spells but managed to do well. He admits that it took him a while to get back into the groove because he was afraid of another R-like incident. It was then Montague's turn to help his brother in any way he could from helping him repolish his spellwork to helping him better manage his internal dealings. Eventually, the two brothers made a family business out of their freelance Curse-Breaker gigs. Barnaby, during his breaks from his research work, assisted on several missions from time to time, which the brothers deeply appreciate.

When Montague retired from Curse-Breaking to become a professor at Hogwarts and Barnaby followed suit on professorship, Jacob took over and employed a team of people (a healer, two researchers, a logistician, and an accountant) to help keep the new family business afloat.

Misc. - Any other Jacob headcanons you have OR asker’s choice - ask any question you have about Jacob not on the list =)

Jacob was also a Prefect during his time. Just like his brother, Professors Dumbledore and Flitwick thought that his academic achievements, his nurturing the Ravenclaw underclassmen, and his continued showing of Ravenclaw traits outweighed the amount of trouble he caused. They hoped that giving him the privilege of becoming a Prefect would help keep Jacob out of trouble. Flitwick and Dumbledore thought of applying the same principle to Montague when he was considered to become a Prefect himself. Up until Jacob’s expulsion, Jacob was a shining example of what a Ravenclaw Prefect was.

Jacob was one of the people who formed Montague’s taste in Muggle music, and introduced him to pop and rock music.

One of Jacob’s (and Mrs. Donohue’s) favorite places in London was the Tower Bridge on the River Thames because he enjoyed seeing London from such a high place. He finds the view rather calming.

Jacob loves chocolate. In fact, Jacob’s favorite Honeydukes sweets were all chocolates: Honeydukes Best Chocolate, Chocoballs, Cauldron Cakes, and Chocolate Cauldrons.

Jacob’s bisexual (male-leaning but bisexual nonetheless) ass had a number of crushes during his stay at Hogwarts. Some notable ones were the following: Duncan Ashe himself, who didn’t reciprocate Jacob’s feelings but stayed friends with him nonetheless; Sakura Inoue-Clarke, a Gryffindor prefect in the same year as Jacob who also couldn’t reciprocate his feelings because she was dating somebody else at the time; and, Asher Davies, a Ravenclaw prefect a year below Jacob and was one of his more serious relationships. Jacob’s longest relationship with a fellow student was with Calum O'Connor, the Ravenclaw seeker and captain during his fifth year, with whom he had a number of flings with before they eventually became romantically exclusive and steady before they mutually broke up prior to their seventh year.

So, that’s it on my iteration of Jacob. I hope you enjoyed this! Also, do let me know if you’re interested in me writing about Jacob Donohue’s love life. 👀

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm jacob #jacob donohue #montague donohue #ask montaguehphm #jacob asks #okay yay i'm done whoot whoot #nighty night #art by montaguehphm

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

A Little Piece Of Heaven (part one)

[Tour!verse]

TW: Surprisingly not many...I guess mockery of religion, specifically Christianity and anything in that branch. Very minor mentions of self harm (like one time- if you blink you’ll miss it). But mainly this fic is just psychological.

———————

Lord of The Flies

Let’s get something clear really quickly: Joan Meutas was not religious. Did she used to be? Unfortunately, yes, but after seeing the world for what it really was, after getting an axe to her vagina from her beloved husband, she has realized that there was no merciful God who would save lost souls. It was all a hoax by crazy old folk from wherever Jerusalem was to herd people into one belief, thinking that it may make them more humane and friendly. But religion has done more harm than good- Christianity damns all non CIS heterosexuals to hell, Jews got murdered by the thousands, that one branch literally won’t eat anything besides fucking grain or some shit, Catholics are just rude as all hell, those fasting things literally cause people to STARVE TO DEATH, and for what? To appease some higher being? Do they truly think they will be saved? If God was so merciful and wonderful and kindhearted, why would he make things like murder and cancer and rape and torture?

Joan even once heard that the Bible stated that when a woman was on her period she had to leave her village and wasn’t allowed to come back UNLESS she had a turtle dove. She’s never read the Good Book before, so she doesn’t know if that was true or not, but it doesn’t sound unlikely given all the stupid rules she’s heard about.

So, no, Joan was not religious.

It’s strange, she thinks, how offended people get when she says it or simply hints at it. Their eyes will practically bug out of their skull and they probably pray for her “lost soul”, maybe even do that weird cross gesture on their chest when they think she isn’t looking. They look at her as if she was actually a demon spy loosed from hell and not just someone who has enough common sense to realize that an “all powerful father” was complete and utter bullshit.

That’s the thing- it’s like the word “atheist” was purposely made to seem like the most evil string of letters to ever be created. You know the words- those synonyms that just sound much worse than the actual root phrase (molest, slaughter, moist). Atheist just has this dark shade to it. Or so religious people say.

But enough of that! There’s a reason why such a taboo subject is being brought up.

Joan was going to contact Death.

As they say, desperate times calls for desperate measures. And desperate Joan was.

You see, her queen- Jane Seymour- used to be quite the woman. Sharp, beautiful, powerful, but also warm behind the closed court doors. Joan was very lucky to see this side of her as her youngest lady in waiting, often getting called gentle pet names and sometimes pats on her head if she was particularly lucky that day. As a touch-starved orphan servant, this was like a pot of gold to Joan- love and affection is something she’s craved long before reincarnation in the modern world. And, speaking of the resurrection, Joan thought she would get even more of Jane’s “Mum Treatment” since they had more time on their hands, but she was very, very wrong.

Jane...Jane was different. She changed. No longer was she the motherly, caring, strong woman from the past, but instead coming back as some reduced version of herself- slightly younger (24, 25, maybe even 23), more awkward and timid, and much less maternal. The way she now looked at Joan wasn’t with compassion, rather...plain curiosity, sometimes even aversion. Her memory of her young lady in waiting has waned- it was as if she didn’t remember that Joan had been at her side the whole time when she was bedridden after giving birth to Edward! Like she couldn’t conjure up the remembrance of a teenager literally watching her rot away and slowly die for days!

To say the least, Joan was not happy. Add in trauma, insomnia, hate on social media, constant stress and pressure from her profession, and a severe lack of friends and you can probably see why Joan was going to such extreme measures.

Now, she knew about the stories. She’s read The Monkey’s Paw. She knows about the consequences of one’s actions. Joan wasn’t going into this completely stupid- have some faith, will you?

Gambling with Death was a risk. A huge risk that could very well end with her soul being ripped out of her mouth or her flesh being worn by a supernatural being that then goes on to commit atrocities under her identity. And not only was it a massive risk to take, it was also very, very stupid.

If I have to spell it out for you, listen closely: Death knows things. A lot of things. They don’t call him the “Lord of The Flies” for nothing. Which is why he loves to play games for those desperate enough to contact him because he knows he is much smarter than whatever pathetic, miserable piece of useless garbage comes clawing at a mirror, begging him to reveal himself. And unless you have every secret of the universe, you’re probably going to get ass-blasted back to Tuesday.

Oh, what am I saying? You won’t get a second chance.

You’ll be long gone by then.

And whatever state the cops find your body in the next morning depends on whatever mood the beast was in.

However, in Joan’s case here, she is desperate and stupid enough to take the risk. In her eyes, she doesn’t have much to live for. She’s a slave to SIX- day and night she’s working endlessly over musical paperwork and the same songs over and over and OVER again. It doesn’t help that she isn’t the closest to the rest of the cast and is often left alone when everyone else goes out and has fun. The scars on her wrists are evident of how many nights she’s been alone.

Without Jane, she has nothing to live for. She needed her.

And that’s exactly why she was sitting on the floor in front of a mirror propped against the wall in the dark theater surrounded by candles and a semicircle of salt.

Joan has done a lot of studying up to this point. She knows she has everything correctly, now she just has to get Death to appear...and hope he doesn’t immediately pull her small intestines out from her throat for bothering him.

Joan stares into the mirror as hard as she can, closes her eyes, then counted to ten. Her eyelids lingered shut for longer than she would like to admit after she hit the number one, but she eventually pried them open.

It was not her reflection staring back at her.

To be honest, Joan wasn’t exactly sure of what she was expecting to see. Some parts of her believed nothing would happen, other parts convinced itself that a grim reaper-like figure or a horned, goat-legged demon would be kneeling on the other side of the glass wielding a scythe or pitchfork. However, a suit-wearing young man was not really something that crossed her mind in her theories.

If Joan wasn’t a lesbian, she might have found him attractive, but he definitely was at a straight woman’s perspective. Perfect smile, the most amazing cheekbone structure, unflawed olive skin, neatly combed brown-blonde hair, a broad chest, phenomenal shape- if it weren’t for his yellow eyes with slit pupils, he might have been the perfect lady’s man (although, knowing straight women, they probably wouldn’t care for his demon eyes- after all, you don’t need to see someone’s peepers to suck cock!).

Joan sat completely bewildered, all of her confidence draining and being replaced with dread that drenches her like a thick, dark oil spill. She can feel her hands, which are lying in her lap, starting to tremble and clenching her fingers doesn’t help at all. The ability to form a coherent sentence slips from her mind, so Death speaks first.

“Hello, Joan Meutas.”

This guy is the real deal. He pronounced her last name correctly!

Joan opens and closes her mouth like a fish out of water and Death is thoroughly amused by her sardine impression. He watches her through the glass, waiting patiently for her to learn how to enunciate again.

“H-h-hello-”

“Yes, yes, h-h-hello to you to,” Death laughed. He wasn’t directly trying to be cruel, but Joan’s self esteem was far enough into the ground to hear his jibe as a mockery of her understanding of the English language. “If I let you speak the whole time we are going to get nowhere! Pull yourself together, kid. You should see the look on your face! You look like you just got caught making out with the family goat!”

Joan’s expression remained one of fright.

“What? Didn’t you own a goat back in- god, what year were you born? 1517 or 1525? Historians paint it as both! But I thought a family farm animal was the big rave back then! I apologize- I need to catch up on the modern slang. Say, would you be considered a ‘boomer’? Because I have been DYING to use that phrase on someone who contacts me. Could you imagine it?” He warps his voice into one of a pruny old woman, “‘I wish for great fortune!’ ‘Okay Boomer.’” Death bursts into fits of maniacal laughter that sounded as if a thousand lost souls were chortling together at once.

Joan is still silent, but during Death’s monologue she was able to wire her brain back to functionality. She sits up a little bit straighter and Death notices, so he containers himself instantly, also fixing his posture.

“Ready to talk now?” He asked.

“Yes.” Joan answered.

“Wonderful,” There’s a glint in his piercing yellow eyes, “What is it that you desire of me?”

Joan gathers up all her courage, sits up a little taller, and says, “I desire to challenge you to a game of question-and-answer.”

The glint flares into a blaze of confidence. If Joan stares hard enough, she swore she could almost see the fires of Hell burning in his eyes.

“How fun,” The words ooze out from Death’s pale lips, soaked in liquid menace. “Shall I go over the rules?”

Joan nodded. She knew them, she knew she did, but it would be good to hear them one last time.

“Very well,” Death said. He cleared his throat and began speaking as if he were reading off of a manual, “Death’s Gambit: A two-player game between the Lord of The Flies himself and a human. After being conjured- just gonna skip over that process, you’ve clearly got it down, kid- and initiating the game, both parties will have sixty-six minutes and six seconds to answer as many questions correctly as possible. Anything can be asked- trivia, personal inquiries, riddles, even dares, as long as the salt circle is not exited. The catch of the whole thing is this: The Prince of Darkness is obligated to tell the truth only if the human answers correctly to his question or does a requested dare or the human manages to stump him. However, if he answers correctly or the human answers incorrectly to HIS question, he may lie about whichever question he wants. The score will not be revealed until the very end once the time is over. If the human wins, the Keeper of Souls MUST grant any one wish they have. If He-Who-Lies wins, the human will be the victim to whatever losing punishment he comes up with. Remaining rules include: The salt circle cannot be left- you may find yourself no longer in your dimension-, the game cannot be quit until the time is over, items like watches or phones are not permitted to be used to look up answers or keep track of the time. Good luck and Beelzebub be with you.”

Despite knowing this all already, hearing it out loud, spoken by the beast himself, made it all hit home for Joan. She was really doing this; she was gambling with Death.

She had to be the stupidest fuck to ever grace God’s green earth.

“Are you ready to begin?” Death asked.

Joan took a deep death and answered, “Yes.”

A wicked smile curled on Death’s lips. The candles around Joan blaze.

“The game is on.”

A dark feeling weighed down on Joan after that was spoken. The air around her seemed to shift. Her gut was screaming at her to run away, to hide, to do something other than just sit there, but she couldn’t move. Not from fear, but from sheer will. She couldn’t be stupid. Who knows what lurked outside her thin salt circle....

As he usually did, Death initiates the game and asked his first question.

“What was the name of Catherine Parr’s true love?”

Like that, a cold stone drops deep into the pit of Joan’s stomach. Of all the questions she expected him to start off with, Tudor history was not one of them. It startles her, takes her by surprise, and she realizes very quickly that that’s exactly why Death asked it. He’s trying to disorientate her right off the bat and weaken her before she has the chance to get some points in.

She could not let that happen.

It’s just that- she didn’t know Tudor history outside of knowledge on her queen and whatever is said in the show. The others certainly did talk about their past lives, but Joan- she-

It stung, to say the least, when she realized that Death knew about her nonexistence friendships with the queens. And that he was targeting that.

“Thomas Seymour.” Joan finally said.

She was pretty sure that was the right answer...but not completely positive. And, because of that, her worried mind began to scream doubts inside of her brain.

Was that a trick question? He’s supposed to be the embodiment of pure evil- wouldn’t he think Henry is Parr’s true love? Was Henry the right answer?

“Your turn.” Death said, not reacting to Joan’s answer, which scares her even more.

“What’s- why did you choose to show up in that body?”

“Oooh, you’re starting with a personal inquiry!” Death said, laughing, “How fun! And I hope you’re not flattering yourself, Joan- I don’t look like this to make your pussy wet. Trust me, I could look way more attractive, but I know you.” Those three words slither into Joan’s ears and made her shudder. “Isn’t the whole point of being a lesbian to not be attracted to men?” Death laughed again, “But I look like this because I want to. I can take whatever shape I want! Remember that one time I was a snake? That was weird. Although, peeping at a naked chick was pretty damn fun. As a lesbian, you could probably appreciate the sight.”

For just a moment, the image of Death disappears, the mirror hazes to white, and Eve appears. Not the paintings you always see- THE Eve, bare breasts and vagina and all, and if Joan weren’t also asexual, her own genitals may have been burning with desperate pleasure.

“She was a sight.” Death said, returning to view. He chuckles, then immediately goes to his next question, “What was the exact height of Mount Everest in the year 1666?”

Joan’s heart just about stopped.

How in the holy hell was she supposed to know that? Then again, that was probably the point of asking such a thing.

“Three...hundred feet?” It came out as a question, but it’s taken as an answer and Death doesn’t react except for a slight twitch of his nose. “What...is the hardest piece to learn on the piano?”

“Liszt.” Death answered smoothly. “What animal can see the most amount of colors?”

“A...dolphin.” Joan physically cringed at her answer. “Who wrote Liszt?”

Is this what she was going to be doing the whole time? Asking the King of Hell fucking piano trivia?

“La Campanella.” Death once again answered perfectly. “What is the full chemical name for the antidepressant and anti-anxiety medication, Zoloft?”

Wasn’t that the medicine Joan was supposed to take for her anxiety?

“I- I don’t know.”

Death just hummed and awaited his next question. He didn’t laugh at her like she expected him to, which slightly lightened the blow of her stupidity.

“What’s my favorite song in SIX?”

“None of them. Why did you stop taking your Zoloft pills?”

The answer followed by such a question felt like Joan was just punched in the stomach with a spiked gauntlet. She swore she was winded by some unseen force (probably shock). Her breath hitched in her throat and she seemed like a little kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“I-” She hunched her shoulders around her neck. Death is giving her a curious look, which was at least better than worry or concern. “They- they weren’t helping me...so I didn’t think there was a point taking them if they weren’t going to fix me.”

Death hummed once more, this time louder and more enthusiastic. He clearly liked her answer.

“Interesting,” He mused, then quiets himself for the next question.

“What’s standing behind me?”

Ever since the game began, Joan picked up on the presence of something staring at the back of her head. She could feel their eyes burning into her skull, sometimes even breathing on the back of her neck.

Death smiled. “See for yourself.”

Joan saw nothing in the reflection, just darkness beyond the candles and Death, and she was not about to go and look away. She was scared about what would happen if she turned her gaze away from the mirror for even a second.

When Death realized Joan wasn’t going to fall for his tricks that easily, he quirked an impressed eyebrow and moved on.

“Will you greet the worker who just came in?”

Joan glanced fearfully to the corner of the room. A figure is hunched there. The glow from the candles just barely licks at their claws.

“What was their name? Terrance?” Death said, “Doesn’t he work in lightning?”

“That’s not Terrance,” Joan murmured.

Death took it as an answer, it seems. He leans in close to the glass and when he whispers, his hushed tone is right at the back of Joan’s ear.

“You don’t want to know what he really is.”

Joan can feel a panic attack rising in her chest. Death is trying to scare her, stray her from answering coherently or correctly and get her to waste time by freaking out. She had to steer the game back into calmness.

Or, rather, however calm a Devil game could get.

“What do I have in my pocket right now?”

Death seems a little bothered that the cryptic theme was interrupted, but he gets over it.

“One black pen that’s almost out of ink, a granola bar you promised yourself you would eat, and a rosary you stole from Aragon.” He said, “Oh and, by the way, that isn’t going to protect you from me. So return it as soon as possible or Aragon is gonna be PISSED!” He laughed, imagining the storm the golden queen would cause if she caught Joan with such a precious belonging.

Joan swallowed thickly. She didn’t want to check her pockets. She didn’t want to know that he was right.

“What is the color of the sky?”

It seemed like an easy enough question, but Joan, believe it or not, knew better than to fall for such a simple trick. She wracked her brain for a moment, then answered, “Black.”

Death doesn’t react aside from licking over his dried lips. His tongue is too pointy. Joan moves on.

“Does Jane care about me?”

Honestly, the question kind of surprised her. It bubbled up from her throat from out of nowhere- yes, she had been wanting to ask it so badly, but she didn’t actually expect it to come out.

“Yes.” Says Death.

For a moment, joy bursts through Joan, but the metaphorical, celebratory confetti is sucked up by the vacuum of doubt.

Is he lying? Is he giving me false hope? Or is he telling the truth?

“What’s your blood type?” Death asked.

“A...AB.”

Like Joan fucking knew that.

“What’s my favorite color?”

“Blue.” Death smiled, “Because the blue sky would always remind you of opportunities for a better life.”

A shiver runs down Joan’s spine. She didn’t like how he knew that.

“What’s something that you can’t eat for lunch or dinner?”

He’s asking a riddle. Joan bit the inside of her cheek, thinking.

It couldn’t be a food. That was too easy.

Think, Joan, think!

“...Breakfast.”

Death chuckles. Joan doesn’t know what to think of that.

Twenty minutes pass by in a blur. Cold sweat soaks Joan’s brow, dripping down her face, but she’s too scared to move from her stiff position. Her back muscles hurt from sitting like a statue for so long- how the hell does Death look so relaxed? Then again, he doesn’t really have much to worry about.

He doesn’t have to worry about the possibility of being mutilated or dragged to Hell or that that figure in the corner has been getting closer and closer as the minutes passed by.

“Do you think every human deserves to live?”

The question came out of nowhere, really. Death had been asking mostly trivia up until that point. He tittered at Joan’s stunned expression, then raised his eyebrows as if to say, “Well?”

“No.”

Joan didn’t hesitate because she knew it was the truth. Not everyone deserved to live. Rapists, pedophiles, serial killers, racists, homophobes, terrorists, abusers- they didn’t deserve life. People like them deserved to die.

And anyone who doesn’t believe that is a fucking idiot.

“Do YOU think every human deserves to live?”

Death scoffed. “Of course not.” He peered at Joan, really analyzing her for the first time. His yellow slit eyes raked over the girl, making her feel uncomfortable and violated. “You know, you and I think a lot alike. Not many humans give ‘no’ as their answer. They think optimism will make them seem like a good person. It’s pathetic.”

Joan just nodded silently.

“Now...where were we? Oh, yes.” Death leaned in, “Which queen suffered the most?”

Joan furrowed her eyebrows. The whole point of the show was to not compare, especially traumas, but...

“Katherine Howard.”

Come on- clearly K Howard had it the worst. The girl was violated by four different men before she was an adult! None of the other five stories combined could possibly rank to the fifth queen’s suffering.

“Honestly, I think the same!” Death said, “I mean- what is UP with the whole ‘one of a kind, no category’ gimmick? How stupid! Last time I checked, being a victim of sexual abuse doesn’t make you ‘one of a kind.’ Why would you even think of it that way?“

Joan nodded slowly.

“I agree,” She said, “Um- here’s my next question: Is this question false?”

Death raised his eyebrows and cooed in obvious interest.

“True.” He said, smirking. “My turn. Do you resent the queens?”

Joan actually recoils. Death laughed.

“I-”

Did she? Did she resent the queens? Surely she didn’t... She couldn’t! The queens were perfect! How could anyone ever hate them?

“No.”

Death almost looks disappointed.

“What’s worse than death?”

“You’re living it.”

Cold sweat drips down Joan’s face. It stings her eyes and is salty on her tongue. She hears noises all around her, but doesn’t dare to look. She already knows “Terrance” is on his knees beside the salt circle and his leaning his face in right next to hers. She can smell the rot on him.

“Have you ever wanted to hurt the queens?”

Death’s questions are definitely ramping up in darkness. Was the time close to ending? Is that why he’s getting deeper?

Joan shut her eyes tightly for a moment, but opened them quickly when the fear of losing sight of Death nagged at the back of her mind. Before her, on the other side of the mirror, the being is waiting patiently, eagerly for her answer.

“Sometimes,” Joan breathed, “Yes.”

Death smiles a wicked smile.

“How interesting,” He purred, then gestured for Joan to ask her question.

“Does God exist?”

“Unfortunately.” Death groaned, then laughed. He inspected Joan again. “How would you hurt the queens?”

Joan felt her stomach ache. She didn’t like that question. She didn’t want to think about actually hurting the queens, even if she’s considered it one or two times before.

“I- I haven’t really given it any thought.” She answered, then quickly sputtered out her next question before Death could comment, “Does the Bible speak the truth?”

“Of course not.” Death said. “My next question is this: If I were to give you a task, would you do it?”

“Depends,” Joan said, “What would the task be?”

Death held up both arms in a shrugging motion. “I don’t know! Pick up my dry cleaning? It depends! Don’t put me on the spot like that!” He then laughed that horrible laugh again. Once he contains himself, he says, “Time is ticking. The game is almost over. I want to switch things up before we end. I have a dare for you.”

Joan nods.

“Stab yourself in the hand.”

That flush of icy cold dread floods through Joan’s system again. Every part of her being screamed at her to refuse, there will be other offers or questions she could make up for, but she knew that was just false hope. Like Death said: time was almost up. She couldn’t risk refusing and docking more points (if she isn’t in the negatives already, that is).

“Fine.” She forced out through her teeth.

She reached for the pen in her pocket, but Death held up a hand.

“Don’t use that inky thing,” He said. “It won’t get the job done. Please- allow me.”

He flicked his wrist and a large carving knife appears out of thin air and clatters to the floor in front of Joan. She stares at it for a moment, then picked it up, setting her left hand down in its place. She took a deep breath, screwed her eyes shut, and plunged the blade down.

Joan couldn’t choke back the scream that burst from her lips. She cried at the pain, sobbing in horror when she looked down to see the knife practically pinning her hand to the floor. Dark red blood pools around her fingers, gushing and spurting like spigot from the wound when she pulls the blade free. She cradled her wounded hand close to her chest, weeping weakly.

“Very good,” Death cooed, clapping.

Joan raised her eyes slowly and Death smirked at how lit up they were, almost like hot coals.

“I have a dare for you.” Joan growled, her voice low and dangerous.

“I accept.”

“Change your eye color to blue.”

For a moment, Joan swore she saw the slightly twitch on Death’s features. She watched him close his eyes, sit their silently for a moment, then open them again.

They were still yellow and slit.

“I cannot.” He said. However, he wasn’t angry or irritated at being stumped, rather amused. “Next...what is the flying speed of a swallow?”

Joan ripped off of a strip of her shirt and wrapped it around her bloody hand, hoping it would be a good enough substitute for real bandages for now.

“African or European?”

Death grinned. And that grin only grew wider as the candles around Joan went out until only the one behind her remained lit.

"̸̡̢̢̣͓͚͖̪̼̪͑͊̈́͋̀́̾͗͘ͅT̷̼̺͈̮̜͔̙͂̋̉͋͛̈̿̀̕͜͠͝i̸̢̹̙̼̠͓͚̖̗͔̮̔̌͂̓̐̊̈́̔̃̕m̸̡̱̤̱͙͎̦̱͙̪̻̓̅͌̉̀̈́̐̄͒̌̕͘͝e̸̟̳͒'̸̗͎̞̙̋̎̓́́͑̉͐͑̈́s̷̰̬̙͖̲̩͚̥͈̝̩̻̻̮̭͂̀̐̓̑̓͌̓̀́̐̐ ̷̡̳͍̗͉̝͔̃̑͛̀͊͌͆̌̒̃̔͘̚͠ͅû̵̞̠̣͉̻̖̅̓̄̏͝p̷̛͖͎̮̖͇̬̮͉̥̲͈̟͊̃́̃̏̇̇͛͗̅̕͘,̷̢̧̧̹͈̗̝͙̪͉̖̆̈́ͅ ̸̲̩̥̇͂̓͌̀̋͗̀͛̚J̵̼̣̋ö̴̡͕̺̪̠͓̹͔̂͝ą̶̡̜̭̤͖̭̫̝̘̆̂̾̐͊̾̒̂̏n̶̛̛̬̦̥̠̮̐̓̃̋̍̒̂͐̂̽ͅ.̴̪̰̩̀͊̑̐́̂͗̍̐̈́̚"̴͍͆͛́̈́̈́̍͆̀͗͘͝͝

It was almost impossible to breathe. Joan can barely hold herself together- the tears are flowing freely and she can’t get them to stop. She would say a prayer for her damned soul if it weren’t for the whole atheist thing, and she worried that Death would get angry at her for it, even if it was said in her mind, which he couldn’t possible read (or, at least, she hoped he couldn’t).

Still, she bowed at the waist and thanked Death for the game.

“Let’s tally up the score, shall we?”

Joan first saw blood start to spread across Death’s midsection, then a sharp sting struck her in the stomach. She hissed in pain and lifted her shirt slightly, as did Death, and they both saw tally marks upon their flesh.

Death had twenty-three.

And Joan watched in shock as a twenty-fourth tally carved down through her skin right before her eyes.

“Congratulations, Joan Meutas,” Death says, “You’ve won. What is it that you wish for?”

#six the musical #six the musical tour #six uk tour #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #six fic #six ff #tour jane seymour #jane seymour #tour joan on the keys #joan on the keys #tw: religion

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roonil-wazlib-at-221b · 5 years

Text

Pick Your Battles: Epilogue

Request: I loved Pick Your Battles! Can you do a small oneshot follow up of Five and Spartan Reader going to school?

I know you said small, anon, but I really love this universe and I had to resolve the unresolved question at the end of the story. So… have this 4603-word fic. I hope you aren’t too disappointed lol.

Pairing: Five x Reader

“That is not right,” you complain for the thirtieth time in as many minutes. Five’s gotten a bit tired of it, really. “You don’t—nobody actually believes Caesar was stabbed, right? He was poisoned! I was there!”

“Really?” Five asks, fascinated. “Were you the poisoner?”

“No, I was protecting the poisoner,” you respond, scowling at the worksheet the teacher gave the class. “These are all wrong! Does anyone bother to consider if historians are lying because they’re ashamed of either themselves or their friends? This is all bullshit!”

“Hey, calm down,” Five soothes. “Look, I know it’s hard.”

You snort. “It’s not ‘hard’, dumbass. I’m fine in this era.” It’s true; you’ve adjusted almost completely. Except for the concept of the computer—how can there be an entirely different world that people can only access through specific portals? This is literally magic—but not the actual use of it, you’re fine. In fact, you’re great. Everyone in this school is so transparent and easy to read and manipulate. “Everyone else is just stupid.”

Five has to give that one to you. “I mean, yeah, but we can’t really say that.”

A football player leans over to your desk. “Y/N, what’s the answer for number seven?”

“Well, I can’t just tell you that,” you whisper back, all traces of frustration wiped off your face. “Isn’t the point of this class to learn?” Five would be impressed with your acting if you weren’t flirting with another boy to do it.

No, he still hasn’t told you how he feels. He’d sort of assumed that you and him would end up together eventually, considering it would be sort of weird for an old lady in a young body to date a younger person, but you don’t seem to have a problem with it. You’ve got half the male population panting after you; they seem to think your accent is hot and your chameleon-like personality isn’t hurting things. To be honest, Five wouldn’t be bothered by the logistics of it if he didn’t love you.

Five grinds his teeth together as you and the oaf continue to flirt. Why on earth would you show interest in him? He’s not smart, and you don’t seem like the type of girl to wrap a meathead around your finger; you seem like the kind of girl that would have a partner that’s her equal in every way to push her and help her improve.

Or maybe he just thinks that because he wishes that was him you were flirting with.

Five’s about to kick your chair to get you to pay attention to him, dammit, but someone leans over and puts their pencil on his desk. All the flirting’s got him in a bad mood, so his expression when he turns to see what the person wants must be thunderous. Their expression is hilarious; they seem to think he’s about to kill them.

It’s a small girl named Angie with bouncy curls. She’s a part of the drama department of this infernal school. All Five knows about her is that she’s got a high-pitched voice and a great body. He’s sure you know more about her. You know just about everything about everyone.

“Hey, Paolo, I was just wondering,” she starts, biting her lip at Five and leaning further across the desk in an obvious attempt to entice him with her chest. He grimaces at the fake name he’d used to enroll with at the school. “Are you going to the dance with Y/N?”

Five blinks at her for a second. He’d expected her to ask him to the dance, but… “No,” he answers slowly, the beginnings of an idea forming in his head. He doesn’t even glance at her chest and instead stares at her levelly, which seems to unnerve her a little bit.

“Oh, cool!” She tosses her hair. “I know Michael is planning on asking her.”

Five’s jaw clenches and a muscle in it ticks. “I see.”

Angie gasps loudly and dramatically, which makes a few people look at her. Now you’re paying attention to the conversation, Five can tell, and he barely shakes his head: He’ll tell you later; keep paying attention to the doofus trying to get a look down your shirt.

“Paolo, do you like Y/N?” she whispers.

“She’s my best friend,” Five answers cautiously. He’s pretty sure he knows where this is going, but some of the modern slang still confuses him.

“But do you like… like like her?” Angie clarifies.

“No,” Five says unconvincingly. Hey, you’re the actor in this… it’s not a relationship. Partnership. You’re the actor in this partnership. “No, I just… I’m really protective of her,” he forces out. He can’t bring himself to say that he thinks of you like a sister. “You know, since we’ve been in the foster system together for so long.”

The bell rings and you finally extricate yourself from your conversation with the football oaf, much to Five’s relief. Next period he has is lunch, and if you leave Five for the football lunch table or bring the football boys to your shared table he just might throw a fit. You’re his partner, goddamnit, and you’re his best friend, and you’re his crush. He doesn’t like to share.

Well, he’s a bit protective of you. He wasn’t lying to Angie.

“What did she want?” you ask immediately, falling into step with him. God, walking everywhere is so tedious. Five would love to be able to jump to his classes, but he doesn’t need people to know that he’s really Five Hargreeves who disappeared years ago and has reappeared looking the exact same age.

“She said you should join the theater department,” he lies smoothly. He’s gotten much better at it; he’s not better than you, but there have been times when he’s been able to fool you. Like when he told you he wasn’t even planning on going to the dance.

Well, he’s not planning. He’s fantasized.

It might have something to do with your skill at reading him as an old man. You’re still getting used to Five in his kid body.

You snort. “I’m not an amateur.”

“Then go star in your own movie,” Five suggests. “I’m sure Allison could hook you up.” It’s actually a good idea; you’re great at acting and you’ve got connections, so why not? He steps in front of you when you look incredulous, bouncing on his heels. “Just think about it, Y/N,” he pleads. “Actors can build up a cult following. That would be a great place to start, right? It’s a relatively fun job, you’re really good at it, and as long as we’re successful we won’t even have to worry about money no matter what we do on the side!”

You bite your lip. “You really think so?” When too many people start giving you odd looks for standing in the middle of the hallway and building up traffic, you grab Five’s arm and start to haul him backwards towards the lunch room. You’re hungry.

“You know what, I’ve got an even better idea,” Five says, nearly tripping as he tries to turn himself around. You and him have hated the foster home you’ve been stuck in ever since you’ve gotten back. He’d refused to be adopted by one of his siblings, because that would be utterly humiliating, and also because if the two of you were adopted it’d be weird if you ever got together. “Allison can adopt you! It’ll help her reputation as a family woman or whatever if she’s adopting poor orphans.”

“What about you?” you ask, sitting down at your lunch table. Five sits across from you. No one dares to join you because of the nasty looks Five sends people.

Five grimaces. “Get adopted by one of my own siblings? No thanks.”

You scowl. “Five, that place is crappy. I’m not abandoning you in it especially when we have the option not to.”

“I don’t want to,” he insists. “My new name is Paolo without a last name. It’s a complete new start, and I can’t be adopted by any of my siblings because someone will inevitably make the connection. My appearance hasn’t changed at all, plus being a Hargreeves? But you’re unknown, Y/N. Besides, we’ll still hang out. I’ll just sleep over at the house, or maybe I won’t. They wouldn’t notice anyway.” The quick grin he flashes at you has butterflies fluttering in your stomach, so you look down at your lunch.

You pull out a thermos container and frown at it.

“That’s a thermos,” Five instructs, a little tired. “Unscrew the top. So it’s decided, then?”

“I’m not changing schools,” you decide. “I don’t want to leave you or join new teams.”

“I’m sure Allison won’t mind you living at the Academy,” Five shrugs. “Now I just need to decide what to do with my future.”

“I think being a model is out of the question,” you tease. It’s a total lie; he’d make fantastic money as a model. Five is hot as a kid.

“I’ll speak with Allison after we get out of school,” he says, smiling at you without showing teeth. “Not that I would want to be a model anyway, but if I did, I would be fantastic.”

“Yeah, if you were a model for nerdy loser time travelers,” you snort.

“I’m not a nerd!”

You fix Five with a look. “Honey, you’ve spent your entire life working on math.”

“Yeah, to get back to my family!” he protests. He’s not sure whether to be offended or just roll with the teasing.

You purse your lips and raise your eyebrows. “It was your personal decision to translate the problem into math. Honestly, I don’t know how you did manage to incorporate calculations into it; in case you haven’t noticed, there’s not a lot of math involved in, like, running or something.”

“When someone times you,” he counters.

You wave a hand dismissively. “Yeah, but you don’t have to be able to time your run in order to run.”

“Just forget it,” Five grumbles. “You don’t understand.”

You spear a piece of the chicken that was inside the thermos and take a hesitant bite. It’s not flavored at all. Spartan cooking may have been awful, but you’ve gotten used to good food.

Honestly, this foster home’s food might as well be straight from Sparta. Five hates it and generally steals food from stores and the cafeteria, especially when the foster parents forget completely to pack the food.

Truth be told, you’re a bit disappointed, but not in the food. The school’s big dance is coming up, and you’d hoped that Five would ask you, but he seems to have his eye on Angie. She seems to like him too, so you quickly gave up on that and started scouting out suitable males to take you. It’s not like it’s hard. They’re all so shallow and dumb.

You want to ask him if he’s taking Angie, either to dash your hopes once and for all or to know that you’ve still got a chance, but you can’t take that risk.

So you take another bite of the dry chicken and try to swallow it.

Word gets out quickly once you’re adopted by Allison. If you weren’t already the most popular girl at school, you are now. Everyone wants to be your friend. You pretend to want to be theirs, too, and the amount of people that unknowingly hand you information about possible conflicts to exploit are astronomical.

You know all about the fight that Susia and McKayla are having, and the problems George is having at home. Richard is cheating on his girlfriend, Katherine, with Drake.

You know everyone and everything, and only Five knows you.

Michael asked you to the dance. You’d panicked for once and told him you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to go anyway because of how chaotic the adoption is, because you hadn’t wanted to put up with him peering down your shirt and only talking about how your accent is attractive. You were never one of the femme fatale assassins, so you’re not very used to people showing interest in you. The only way you know anything about flirting is by doing it with Five for all the years you two haven’t been sniping at each other.

“It’s Paolo, isn’t it?” he’d asked, scowling, and you were so offput you’d forgotten for a moment who Paolo was.

“I—it’s no one,” you’d replied, confused. “I’m just not sure if Allison wants me to live at her house here or her other house. It’s just…” you look at the ground and bite your lip, playing the vulnerable girl card. “It’s really stressful. You’re here for me, though, right?”

“Yeah,” he’d replied, a little dazed.

You may not have had much practice, but you’re a very quick learner.

By the end of the day, word has spread like wildfire about how you might not be able to go to the dance and people are treating it like you just lost your mother or something. You’ve been approached by at least seven girls that have talked about how very sorry they are for you or some BS like that.

You can’t tell, but Five is ecstatic. He’d heard through Angie, who heard from Drake, who heard from Michael that you’d turned him down for the dance and said you didn’t know if you would be in town for it. Now, Five knows that’s a lie; you’d fight tooth and nail before letting anyone unenroll you from the school, but nobody else does.

He’s pretty sure you turned Michael down just because you didn’t want to go with him.

To be fair, that’s a decision anyone would have made, even if they didn’t have a crush on their partner/best friend/fellow assassin.

Still, he walks into your room after school and tells you to get up. It’s much larger than you’re used to, mostly because Allison is a mother and can’t picture you as anything other than a poor orphan girl with a tragic past and she wants to get to know you. You’re trying to be nicer to her because of her generosity.

“What?” you ask, putting down your book. “Why?”

“We’re going shopping,” Five says, rolling his eyes as if it was totally obvious. He’d stolen his foster mom’s credit card. She won’t even notice; she’s got like a hundred of them. Now he thinks about it, he should have just asked Allison to pay for the outing because she’s hella rich, but too late now. “Haven’t you learned by now from all our missions that dates have to wear matching outfits?” There was, like, one mission where he and you had to dress up and attend a dance together, but still.

“What?” you ask again. Five can see you blushing but decides against commenting.

“We’re going to the dance together,” he says slowly.

You blink. “Why?”

“Well, I know your excuse about not being sure if you would be in town is BS,” Five explains. God, he hopes you can’t see his nerves. “So you will be in town for the dance. And if you turned down Michael, that means you really don’t want to attend the dance with him. And if you’re there, he’ll want to dance with you. So—”

“All right, I get it!” you say loudly, cutting him off. Typical Five. Always looking out for you. You’re not a younger sibling that he needs to protect. This is going to be torture. Can’t he tell that you like him?

Of course he can’t. Like he’d said, you’re an amazing actress. Allison has already started sending out your headshots to different agents. She says you really have a future as an actress.

“Sure,” you say, getting up and leaving the book on your bed. “Won’t that make people think we’re dating or something, though?”

“We can just say we’re going as friends,” Five shrugs. “I mean, we’ve got the act going that we’re close because we grew up in the foster system together, so that would explain why we would go together.”

“All right.” You grin and interlock your arm with his. “Just warning you, though, I will be recognized.”

“I can handle a bit of fame,” Five says, rolling his eyes. “You forget I was a child star myself.”

“That is true,” you concede and start to drag him out of the house. “Allison, Five and I are going shopping!”

“Have fun!” she calls back from her room. “Do you need money?”

“I have a credit card!” Five yells.

“Who’s? It’s not one of mine, is it?”

Five pretends not to hear her and pulls you out of the house before she can quiz you two anymore.

Five swallows thickly when you open up the door to the Hargreeves mansion. You’re wearing your y/f/c dress and Allison’s hair stylist must have done your hair because it’s up in an elaborate twist.

“Hey,” you say, a little shyly. God, Five in a suit is going to be the death of you.

“Hey,” he replies, dazed. Allison has to clear her throat behind you two to get you to stop staring at each other.

“Y/N, I want you back by eleven,” she says sternly.

You glare at her. “Absolutely not.”

“Y/N, it is still a school night,” she starts but you’re already shaking your head.

“That’s what coffee’s for, Allison.”

She sputters, but you’re already out of the house, so she sighs wearily. I swear, if Claire’s anything like this when she’s older, Patrick will hand her right over to me with a smile on his face.

As you’d expected, the rumors start to circulate the moment you and Five step into the school arm in arm. A combination of intimidation of your new status as the celebrity kid and genius, and people’s fright of Five, keeps too many people from approaching you, though you notice Michael and Angie glaring at you two from opposite sides of the room, both with arms crossed and pouts on their faces.

“Did I tell you?” you ask, which is the first thing you’ve said since stepping in the school. For some reason, the air is thick between you and Five, and you sort of hate it. “I got a role.”

“Really? What is it?”

“Some movie adaptation of a book,” you say airily, waving your hand. “I’ll have to read it, of course, but I got the gist of it from that Wikipedia thing, and it’s a dystopian story. Lots of destruction. I’m sure you’ll feel right at home when you watch it, huh?” You nudge Five’s shoulder with yours and smile, trying to get him to, but he’s glancing around the room like he’s waiting for someone. If he’s going to ditch you, you’ll kill him. “Hello?” Five?” You wave your hand in front of his face. He doesn’t even blink. “Five.” You snap your fingers and he jerks away from you.

“What?” he snaps and you blink. He hasn’t snapped at you for a long time.

“Never mind,” you reply, unhooking your arm from around his. “I’ll be right back.” You march across the dance floor right to Angie. She tries to paste a smile onto her face when she sees you coming, but it’s obviously fake.

“You like Paolo, right?” you ask bluntly. You have a feeling she’s not in the mood to pussyfoot around anything right now.

“I don’t think I should be saying so to his date,” she replies, which is an inadvertent yes.

You wave your hand. “We came as friends. He’s not interested in even talking to me, though. Maybe he’ll be interested in talking to you.”

“Really?” Angie smiles at you.

“Good luck,” you reply. “You know how prickly he can be.”

She laughs softly. “Uh, yeah. Do you know if he likes me back?”

“He sure as hell doesn’t like me,” you say without thinking, which makes her brows crinkle with worry.

“Y/N, you aren’t interested in Paolo, right? I don’t want to make a move on him if you—”

“Doesn’t matter,” you reply. “He’s made it very clear we are just friends.”

Angie bounces across the floor. When you turn around, you’re confronted with a large chest. When you look up, Michael is forcing a very pained smile onto his face. “Hey, Y/N.”

You want to shoot yourself. “Hi, Michael!”

“You said you weren’t going to the dance,” he says pointedly, eyes flickering over to where Angie and Five are now talking.

“I honestly thought I wasn’t,” you fib. “By the time I found out, I thought you already had a date and I knew Fi—Paolo didn’t, so I thought it would be best to go as friends.”

“Why’d you think I already had a date?”

“I heard it somewhere,” you say vaguely. Before Michael can say anything else, a loud slap echoes around the room. Your head jerks around to where Angie is storming away from your ex-partner, looking to be about to cry, and Five is glaring after her, one hand on his cheek.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter under your breath. “Excuse me, Michael.” You hike up your dress and make it across the room before any of the teacher supervisors can converge on Five and ask him if he’s okay. You take the scowling boy by the ear and drag him out of the room in the opposite direction Angie left in, ignoring the wolf whistles that sound out and one loud “Ooh, someone’s in trouble!”

“Get off me!” Five exclaims the moment you step out of the room. You let go of his ear and instead grab the front of his shirt.

“What the hell did you say to her?”

“Shouldn’t you be worried about me?” Five gripes. “I’m the one that just got the shit slapped out of me!”

“Shut up, you’re fine,” you reply. “God knows you’ve gone through worse. Now I want to know why Angie’s suddenly on a slapping spree just after talking to you. Not that it isn’t a common urge I have whenever you even open up your mouth—”

“She was trying to get me to dance,” Five says sulkily, shoving his hands in his pockets as you let go of his shirt.

“So?” You look at him with disbelief. “What did you say to her, exactly?”

“I didn’t say anything!” he protests. “I told her I didn’t want to dance with her!”

You raise one skeptical eyebrow.

“Okay,” he grinds out. “And I called her—”

“I don’t even want to hear it,” you mutter. “You know, you deserve to get slapped sometimes, right?”

“And you won’t even let me trip you,” he mutters.

“Yeah, because I’m better than you,” you automatically reply. “Besides, why wouldn’t you dance with Angie just one time? She’s nice and she likes you! Don’t you like her?”

“God, no,” he replies viscerally. “God. No.”

“What’s so disgusting about her?” you ask, genuinely curious. Does he know something about Angie that you don’t?

“She isn’t you,” he blurts out, and both your eyes get as big as dinner plates. “Wait! Shit! I didn’t mean to say that!” Five tries to babble, but the damage is done.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you cut him off.

“It’s just that, well, she’s, you know. And, well, most girls are, well. And… you know?” He stares at you and chews his lip, awaiting your response like he made any sense at all.

“No, I don’t know,” you say slowly. “What do you mean, Five?”

Either he leans forward or he trips when he steps forward, but suddenly Five’s lips are on yours, a little too rough, and you instinctively pull back with shock.

“She’s not you,” Five repeats, breathing a little heavily. “Look, I get if you don’t feel the same way, but I had to get it out there. I like you, Y/N; I have since before we got our second chance and, god, I’ve really fucked up now, but I just—”

You grab the front of his shirt again and stand on your tiptoes to press your lips to his again. It turns out to be the best way to get him to shut up.

Umbrella Academy Taglist:

@fentanvl @deathswretch @lightningidiot @five-hg @iamsnek666@ameliatrh @ihatecheesyusernames @dora-the-grownup @emilyt0314 @idklol707

Five x Reader Taglist:

@statsvitenskap @dare-the-punisher

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes

#tua #the umbrella academy #number five #five hargreeves #five x reader #number five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #reader insert #reader x five #reader x five hargreeves #reader x number five #allison hargreeves

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ohailyn · 5 years

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❝ Half of me, for growth; the other, for decay. ❞ ANTOINETTE ROBERTSON? No, that’s actually AILYN WILKES. A SEVENTH YEAR student, this SLYTHERIN student is sided with THE NEUTRALS. SHE/HER identifies as A CIS WOMAN and is a PUREBLOOD who is known to be INDIFFERENT, HAUGHTY, and SECRETIVE but also ADAPTABLE, INTELLECTUAL, and AMBITIOUS.

LINKS: stats, pinboard, character tag. CHARACTER PARALLELS: elle woods (legally blonde), cersei lannister (asoiaf), michaela pratt (how to get away with murder), sun bak (sense8) HELLO this is my babe ailyn, a pink mess of iconicness and confusing morals!!! just a heads up that this intro will contain mentions of abuse (spousal and child) and alcoholism

history

ailyn’s youth was filled with lies. her parents were skilled liars, pretenders, people who bended the truth because the truth was something nasty. her father said his business was booming, while unpaid bills kept piling up, and he kept reassuring them with alcohol on his breath and an unshaved face, that nothing was wrong, that he was fixing it all. when ailyn turned ten, he had gone bankrupt and visited the pub every day, rather than his job, and when his mother kissed him on the cheek every morning and told her kids that she loved him, she was lying, too. she smelled of others when she came home, and she was having not one, but two affairs.

and so ailyn learned that truth is a relative thing, something to bend to your own will. she learned it from her parents and continued it when she went to hogwarts, where she spoke of her father’s wonderful business and her parents happy marriage as if it was nothing but truth. she learned off their secrets before she left (and they weren’t that hard to figure out, in all truth, if you looked well — all it took was following her dad to work one day and bursting in her mother’s bedroom out of nowhere) and kept them, but added in some aspects of her own. lies became ailyn’s language at hogwarts, and she fed them to those around her with smiles.

besides, her family was doing a good fucking job at keeping the truth quiet: her maternal grandparents supplied enough money for them to continue living in their home, to afford the bare necessities, to make sure that ailyn and her brother would not show up at hogwarts looking like the poor kids they were without their grandparents. gotta love that classicism! :)

born into a family with a history of supporting voldemort, ailyn was raised with purist beliefs. her paternal grandfather died in the crossfire of the first wizarding war and his legacy runs through the veins of her father. her father, who committed purist crimes in order to steal money or things of worth, even after voldemort’s end, her father, who told her how his father was supposed to still be alive and ream the rewards of his hard work, who clung to purist ideals so desperately, that it seemed to be the only thing to keep him afloat. she believed them, for a long time, as they gave her a chance to put herself on a pedestal, and she craved that, when she was younger.

she has shed them at this point, though she doesn’t bother to speak out against it. it’s just that she’s not a very good witch – she’s smart, don’t get me wrong, incredibly intelligent, but simply not good at waving wands and muttering spells – which has put things in perspective a little. being into history and being a realist in her core has also made ailyn look at the topic of blood purity more seriously, and once she was able to think more critically and was no longer constantly surrounded by her parents, she understood how stupid purism is. it’s just illogical, based on #fakefacts and a wish to be better for no other reason than a surname ( i literally talk about this again later on so LMAO )

her younger brother does however stick with blood purity, looks up to his father, is disillusioned and blind and excited and a child, still, but a cruel one in the making. ailyn fears for him. worries about him. tries to guide him but sees no effects.

anyway, her father joined the death eaters, despite him being a bit of an … embarrassment. he used his power as a death eater to steal money and get some of that money that they’d lost because of him, not bettering his reputation among other death eaters, but regaining some of his pride as he relied less on his parents in law for money. ( though, in honesty, most of the money he stole was blown on alcohol, new suits and gambling )

[ abuse, alcoholism tw ailyn’s dad was furious at his wife, at the world, at himself. he hated that he relied on his parents-in-law for money, hated that it was his fault, hated that his wife was fucking everyone but him. he drank too much, lashed out at his wife when intoxicated, both verbally and physically. his anger turned to his kids at times, too, but was mostly aimed at his wife. ailyn despises him. deeply. end of tw’s ]

going to hogwarts was good. ailyn got to get away from home, and surround herself with others, with people who came from different places, who weren’t stuck in purist beliefs. ailyn was sorted into slytherin, for her cunning and ambition. a booksmart kid, she found herself more interested in the library and all it offered than what her classes tried to teach her. besides, ailyn found out pretty soon that she was rather bad at practical magic; she was soon behind in charms, transfiguration and DADA. she wondered if something was wrong with her wand, for a moment, wondered what was causing her to perform so poorly.

it was during these realisations, during her time away from home, that she started to step away from the purist idealisation she’d been raised with. she’d never subscribed to them much, to start with, but she hadn’t distanced herself from them, either. being away from home, surrounding herself with muggleborns, halfbloods and ‘blood traitors’, as well as her whole journey with … being rather shit at magic made her realise how fucking stupid it was

doesn’t fully share her feelings at all times, though, out of self preservation. besides, she’s not out here to fight for muggleborn rights either — she thinks the war is bullshit, frankly, but she’s also self serving as fuck, and will not do anything to endanger herself. she’s very true neutral, in that sense? can fairly judge situations, but is good at sitting back even if she disapproves. will start debates on blood purity, but isnt about to fight a war over it, on either side.

history soon became her favourite subject. ailyn found herself staying up late in the common room, learning about muggle history, but also delving into obscure parts of magical history, wanting to know more more more about the ways humans changed the course of the world, how cruel and kind people could be all at once. she’s very intrigued by what drives people, which is ironic, as not much drives ailyn morally LMAO.

this is where her ambition lies, where her strengths lie. ailyn wants to work under a historian, learn about how to write about history – because it’s happening all around her – how to interpret it, how to connect the dots. she’d love to intern under bathilda bagshot, or someone similar. she’s such a NERD.

her relationship with her family has become strained. ailyn hates her father, and despises her mother. her brother is a different story — there’s more love there, i suppose, a healthy relationship, but they disagree on many things. he wants to join the ranks of the death eaters once he’s old enough, whereas she’s been lucky enough not to be considered due to her lack of skill (in the eyes of both her father and the death eaters in general) and is glad of it.

ailyn is cordial with her family. she doesn’t want to deal with the consequences of turning her back on them but also doesnt want to participate in the large amount of lies that already surround their family. she’s not in the mood to be labeled a blood traitor or anything. she may not believe in purism but she’s not a good person --- she’s indifferent and apathetic and cares about herself and a handful of people, and so she will keep her opinions carefully locked up while making the world her own.

she mostly just wants to graduate, start studying to become a historian and move the fuck away lmao. a new start, with new chances and a whole new world for her to conquer. she’s Tired tm of the death eaters, as theyre just a product of another white man’s idiocy, like so many negative things in the world --- she’s got no energy for it.

personality and tidbits

ailyn is a true neutral, powder pink lipstick lesbian who will drag your ass through the mud while speaking to you sweetly with a :) smile :). she has a mean streak and her nature isnt necessarily malicious but she can be when she chooses to. this streak most often shows itself in front of people that ailyn thinks lesser of/people that annoy her. there’s a lot of those

she’s just ... tired. tired of humanity and all the people around her and the ruckus theyre causing. ailyn just wants people to Chill Out and use their heads in stead of whatever’s motivating them ( their genitals, hearts, stomachs, whatever ). she feels very ... Genius LMAO because she’s such a realist and she thinks she has the world all figured out when, obviously, she doesnt.

ailyn is very sure of herself, incredibly confident --- sometimes too confident ( though she’s of the opinion that girls can never be to confident ) and in turn she can be condescending and haughty. she’s self aware, though, about most things. she knows where her strengths and weaknesses lie and has made peace with it, even knows that she’s arrogant and harsh, but doesn’t care much.

a gamp on her mother’s side and cousin to gemma!

ailyn is hyperfeminine, believes in lethal femininity and the colour pink. very much elle woods in that sense --- she loves fashion and make up and velvet high heels and looking good, but has a ready mind that she’ll apply to reach her goals at any given moment in time. will Not be underestimated because she’s girly. a firm believer in the matriarchy. lover of womanhood.

she also ... just thinks lowly of men a lot. like --- her dad’s a deadbeat idiot alcoholic broke dude and he Sucks, and then there’s people like grindelwald and voldemort and a long string of ministers, prime ministers and presidents that just proof that men shouldnt be in power to her LMAO. her interest in history is mostly just ailyn sighing at the deeds of men and how they continue to disappoint her.

would love to enter the ministry one day and be a politician, but for now her focus lies on becoming a historian, as that seems like a logical first step. also, the ministry is a mess at the moment that ailyn doesnt want to be a part of LMSFKJHSD.

loyal to first and foremost herself, a true self-serving queen. though, if she is your friend, you do have a loyal person on your side who will be ride or die. will kill for you. will bury a body with you.

absolutely adores mythology especially because most stories prove that men ain’t shit and because there’s iconic characters like medusa and athena and persephone and many more

medusa is ... in general a character that ailyn very much loves and is intrigued by --- a hurt woman, mistreated and abuse because of her gender and nothing more, turned into someone who could protect herself, only to be labeled a monster and murdered ... she’s endlessly angry and intrigued.

captain of the history club!! she loves history sm :( come geek out w her

also a member of the debate club!! while she shies away from speaking on purism, she does have a lot of vocal opinions on sexism/queerphobia/racism/etc and is very knowledgeable on political topics!!!

always tired of everyone and everything

loves rose & vodka.

#iidyintro #DONE w the reposts now yeet

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ailvn · 6 years

Text

i am strong but also destructive. i’m restless and harsh and hopeless. though i have love inside myself. it’s just that i don’t know how to use love.

✧*:･ﾟ✧ merlin! is that ANTOINETTE ROBERTSON? no, it’s just AILYN WILKES the SEVENTH YEAR SLYTHERIN ( PUREBLOOD ). we’ve heard rumors that SHE ( CISFEMALE ) is INTELLECTUAL, ADAPTABLE & AMBITIOUS but can also be very INDIFFERENT, SELF-SERVING & HAUGHTY. if i had to pick one song to describe HER it would MEDUSA BY KYLIE MORGUE. Good luck with the rest of your time at Hogwarts.

INSPO: pinboard and stats page.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: emotional and physical abuse, manipulation, parental alcoholism

AESTHETIC: pink velvet, lipstick stains on wine glasses, correcting mistakes in books with a red pen, perfectly manicured nails, expensive lingerie, stolen champagne, fake fur coats, the smell of old books, high heels, waking up at dawn.

history!

and so ailyn learned that truth is a relative thing, something to bend to your own will. she learned it from her parents and continued it when she went to hogwarts, where she spoke of her father’s wonderful business and her parents happy marriage as if it was nothing but truth. she learned of their secrets before she left (and they weren’t that hard to figure out, in all truth, if you looked well — all it took was following her dad to work one day and bursting in her mother’s bedroom out of nowhere) and kept them, but added in some aspects of her own. if she had to live a lie, why not make it a good one?

her parents had been supporters of tom riddle for a long time, but her father losing his riches and business, kind of made him an ... embarrassment. he still joined the death eaters, when the time came. he used his power as a death eater to steal money and get some of that money that they’d lost because of him, not bettering his reputation among other death eaters, but regaining some of his pride.

it took a while for her to accept how it was; she was brainy, not brawny. she wasn’t good at magic, but she was good at analysing texts and understanding motives and looking at things objectively and writing killer essays. ailyn kept her grades up by using her brain, planning to drop most practical subjects once she could --- who cared if she wasn’t able to tickle someone with a charm when she was one of the best in ancient runes, and was one of the few people who could impress binns? she knew where her strengths lied.

it was during these realisations, during her time away from home, that she started to step away from the purist idealisation she’d been raised with. she’d never subscribed to them much, to start with, but she hadn’t distanced herself from them, either. being away from home, surrounding herself with muggleborns, halfbloods and ‘blood traitors’, as well as her whole journey with ... being rather shit at magic made her realise how fucking stupid it was

doesn’t fully share her feelings at all times, though, out of self preservation. besides, she’s not out here to fight for muggleborn rights either --- she thinks the war is bullshit, frankly, but she’s also self serving as fuck, and will not do anything to endanger herself. she’s very true neutral, in that sense? can fairly judge situations, but is good at sitting back even if she disapproves. will start debates on blood purity, but isnt about to fight a war over it, on either side.

history soon became her favourite subject. sure, the subject could have been better, had there been a better teacher, but binns wasn’t the worst if you paid proper attention and actually read the material. ailyn found herself staying up late in the common room, learning about muggle history, but also delving into obscure parts of magical history.

this is where her ambition lies, where her strengths lie. ailyn wants to work under a historian, learn about how to write about history -- because it’s happening all around her -- how to interpret it, how to connect the dots. she’d love to intern under bathilda bagshot, or someone similar. she’s such a NERD.

her relationship with her family has become strained. ailyn hates her father, and despises her mother. her brother is a different story --- there’s more love there, i suppose, a healthy relationship, but they disagree on many things. he’s a death eater, whereas she’s not planning on even supporting the organisation (which she hasnt said out loud to her family, of course, but her brother isnt stupid: he was raised by liars, is one, and so knows when she’s hiding something.)

the reason things are strained are mostly because ailyn has been turning her back on her family slowly but surely. not publicly, of course, but privately? she’s not in contact a lot, avoids them when she’s home. she’s come out of the closet to them, told them that there’s no way she’s marrying some ugly pureblood boy to further the bloodline (trust me when i say that ailyn was holding a monologue when this was happening that was iconique), and if they ever thought about pulling that shit, she’d drag their family name through the mud, because she had a lot of shit on them.

not in the business of being labeled a blood traitor, but also not in the business of sticking with her ugly family and supporting the death eaters. ailyn cannot wait to graduate, start making money of her own and achieve her goals and move the FUCK out so she can start a life for herself.

tidbits!

ailyn is a true neutral, powder pink lipstick lesbian who will drag your ass through the mud while speaking to you sweetly with a :) smile :). or she’s just charming and chill, depending on who you are tbh.

anyway. ailyn is very outspoken on certain topics, like racism, sexism, homophobia, etc --- she’s generally tired with the men of the world, too ( her studying history is mostly her sighing at men ).

hyperfeminine & unapologetic about it. think elle woods!!!

kind of really selfish when it comes down to it? like. ailyn is just self serving as hell. there’s exceptions, of course, and there’s room for more people to be added to that list, but still: she’s not here to be the hero, nor a martyr. she’ll save herself, and if she has the time to save you, too, she might.

loves mythology a lot. a lot a lot. will talk about it for hours if she COULD.

feminist af.

likes red wine a LOT??? will gladly drink with you and badmouth people for a whole night because? it’s fun.

her morals are a mess, so dont even ask me about it?? she’s very indifferent on the surface, and to a certain extent she really is indifferent about a lot of things, too. still, ailyn isn’t cold or heartless, either? very emotionally driven? she hardly understands her own motives and morals tbh, so neither do i!!! it’s a mess!!

#vulneraintro #fkjdsf HERE WE GO i love a queen

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ailynss · 6 years

Text

i am strong but also destructive. i’m restless and harsh and hopeless. though i have love inside myself. it’s just that i don’t know how to use love.

AILYN WILKES is NEUTRAL in the war, even though HER official job is as A HISTORIAN the TWENTY FIVE year old PUREBLOOD is known to be INTELLIGENT and STEADFAST but also INDIFFERENT and HAUGHTY. some might label them as THE WISEACRE.

INSPO: pinboard and stats page.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: emotional and physical abuse/manipulation, (parental) alcholism.

hey gang! this is an updated intro for ailyn! i changed some of her family background and basically went back to my original setting for her.

history.

and so ailyn learned that truth is a relative thing, something to bend to your own will. she learned it from her parents and continued it when she went to hogwarts, where she spoke of her father’s wonderful business and her parents happy marriage as if it was nothing but truth. she learned of their secrets before she left (and they weren’t that hard to figure out, in all truth, if you looked well — all it took was following her dad to work one day and bursting in her mother’s bedroom out of nowhere) and kept them, but added in some aspects of her own. if she had to live a lie, why not make it a good one?

going to hogwarts was good. ailyn got to get away from home, and surround herself with others, with people who came from different places, who weren’t stuck in purist beliefs. ailyn was sorted into ravenclaw. a booksmart kid, she found herself more interested in the library and all it offered than what her classes tried to teach her. besides, ailyn found out pretty soon that she was rather bad at practical magic; she was soon behind in charms, transfiguration and DADA. she wondered if something was wrong with her wand, for a moment, wondered what was causing her to perform so poorly.

it took a while for her to accept how it was; she was brainy, not brawny. she wasn’t good at magic, but she was good at analysing texts and understanding motives and looking at things objectively and writing killer essays. ailyn kept her grades up by using her brain, planning to drop most practical subjects once she could --- who cared if she wasn’t able to tickle someone with a charm when she was one of the best in ancient runes, and was one of the only people who could impress binns? she knew where her strengths lied.

it was during these realisations, during her time away from home, that she started to step away from the purist idealisation she’d been raised with. she’d never subscribed to them much, to start with, but she hadn’t distanced herself from them, either. being away from home, surrounding herself with muggleborns, halfbloods and ‘blood traitors’, as well as her whole journey with ... being rather shit at magic made her realise how fucking stupid it was.

history was her favourite subject. sure, the subject could have been better, had there been a better teacher, but binns wasn’t the worst if you paid proper attention and actually read the material. ailyn found herself staying up late in the common room, learning about muggle history, but also delving into obscure parts of magical history.

ailyn graduated with five newts and sought out bathilda bagshot, wanting to intern under her so she, too, could become a magical historian. and she did! while she was researching with bathilda, she also worked at the ministry for a while, mostly filing away in a back corner, wanting to earn some money for herself. ailyn wasn’t planning on turning her back on her family or pureblood society, but she wanted/needed independence.

finished working with bathilda after a few years and started making a name for herself, then. she had a good name, ties to the ministry and proof that she had a good brain, and so it didn’t take long for ailyn to become known as a historian. she currently does some freelance consulting for the ministry and besides that freelances at the prophet and wwn when they need some Commentary from a Professional ( cue ailyn smiling smugly as i type this ). she mostly sticks to writing about the war, though, and has published a book at this point. besides that, she does a lot of research. SHE WORKS A LOT BC SHE LOVES HISTORY SHE’S A NERD!!

takes a very neutral position in the war, allowing her to provide objective commentary and to look at things wiht a clear head. does have her opinions, though ( mostly: voldemort is just another white dude ruining a whole country, what a surprise wow ) but shares them with a fair few.

ailyn also hasn’t distanced herself from her family publicly, nor does she publicly voice her feelings on blood purity. this is a war, and she’s not here to fight, nor to become a martyr and die. her relationship with her parents is very much strained and there’s a lot of shit there, but she knows better than to become labeled a blood traitor at this point in time. self preservative as hell.

[ emotional abuse tw it’s only been recently that ailyn has allowed herself to realise how toxic her family is, how her parents used clever, manipulative ways to influence her. still sticks with them publicly, yeah, but has cursed them out and let them know that she wants nothing to do with them if she can help it. end of tw ]

personality & rambling.

hyperfeminine & unapologetic about it. think elle woods!!!

loves mythology a lot, but it’s more a hobby than something she’s interested in for her career.

feminist af.

likes red wine a LOT??? will gladly drink with you and badmouth people for a whole night because? it’s fun.

#maraudrshq:intros #abuse tw #alcoholism tw

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sammy24682468 · 4 years

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2019 Revelation study lesson 11

"Memory Text: “ ‘Who shall not fear You, O Lord, and glorify Your name? For You alone are holy. For all nations shall come and worship before You, for Your judgments have been manifested’ ” (Revelation 15:4, NKJV)."

"Revelation 11:18 summarizes events on earth right before the battle of Armageddon: “ ‘The nations were angry.’ ” This state of affairs on earth matches Jesus’ description of the last days (Luke 21:25) and is followed by God’s wrath, which are His judgments in the form of the seven last plagues upon the unrepentant (Rev. 15:1)."

"Revelation 15 opens with the picture of seven angels with seven bowls filled with this divine wrath. But before this outpouring happens, we have a future glimpse of God’s faithful people (Rev. 15:1-4). They are described as victorious “over the beast, over his image and over his mark and over the number of his name” (Rev. 15:2, NKJV), as they stand on something resembling a sea of glass and sing the song of Moses and the Lamb—all images reminiscent of the Hebrews on the shores of the Red Sea, celebrating God’s victory over the Egyptians (Exodus 15)."

"These victorious saints are the same ones referred to as the 144,000 in Revelation 14:1-5. Having refused the mark of the beast, they are protected from the seven last plagues. Then, at the Second Advent their mortal bodies are transformed and clothed with immortality (1 Cor. 15:51-54), and they will join the resurrected saints when Jesus comes in power and glory (1 Thess. 4:17)."

THE MEANING of the plague

"People have already made their choice either for God or for Babylon. Before Christ comes, however, the destructive winds of Satan’s fury that have been restrained (Rev. 7:1-3) are unleashed, followed by the seven last plagues."

"Read Revelation 15:1 along with Exodus 7-11. How are the Egyptian plagues, considered the backdrop for the seven last plagues, instructive regarding their purpose and meaning?"

"The seven last plagues are referred to as the “last” plagues because they come at the very end of earth’s history. In contrast, the plagues of the seven trumpets cover the time period that includes the entire Christian age and are restricted in their scope. They are executed while the gospel still is being preached (Rev. 10:8-11:14) and intercession is taking place (Rev. 8:2-5). They are mixed with mercy, and their purpose is to bring the enemies of God’s people to repentance."

"On the other hand, the seven last plagues are poured out just prior to the Second Coming. They are poured out upon those who, like Pharaoh, hardened their hearts against God’s redeeming love and would not repent (see Rev. 16:11). Divine wrath is God’s righteous judgment on the choices people have made (see Rom. 1:26-28), and at that time the lost are reaping the consequences of their own choices."

"Read Revelation 15:5-8 along with Exodus 40:34, 35 and 1 Kings 8:10, 11. What does the statement that “no man was able to enter the temple” (Rev. 15:8) suggest about the timing of the seven last plagues?"

"The expression “no one was able to enter into the temple” (Rev. 15:8, NKJV) points to the close of probation (Rev. 22:11). As Christ’s mediatorial ministry in heaven comes to an end, the door of opportunity to repent closes forever. Therefore, the last plagues will not bring anyone to repentance, but only disclose the hardness of the hearts of those who chose to side with Babylon, prompting them to hate God even more (Rev. 16:9, 11).

"Look around at the world today, which is going to get only worse. What does the fact that the plagues have been delayed this long teach us about God’s mercy and patience?"

"With the cessation of Christ’s intercession in the heavenly sanctuary, the destiny of each individual is forever determined. The time has come for those who have spurned the gospel to experience God’s wrath in its fullness."

"The seven last plagues mirror the plagues poured out upon Egypt (Exodus 7-11). As the Egyptian plagues affected the Egyptians while the Israelites were spared, so God’s people will be protected during this time of trouble (Ps. 91:3-10; see The Great Controversy, pp. 629, 630).The plagues on Egypt disclosed the hardness of Pharaoh’s heart and showed the Egyptians the inability of their gods to protect them. Similarly, the last plagues increasingly harden the hearts of the worshipers of the sea beast and reveal the powerlessness of Babylon to protect them from divine judgment."

"Read Revelation 16:1-11. What is happening here, and how is it portrayed?"

"The first four plagues “are not universal, or the inhabitants of the earth would be wholly cut off.”—Ellen G. White, The Great Controversy, p. 628. The first inflicts painful and loathsome sores exclusively on the worshipers of the beast. The second and third plagues affect the sea and the rivers and the springs of water, which turn into blood. Without water to drink, rebellious humanity cannot survive. The fourth plague affects the sun so that it scorches sinners, causing unbearable pain."

"The unbearable pain inflicted by the plagues does not soften the hearts of unrighteous humanity so as to change their rebellious attitudes. Instead, they curse and blaspheme God, who executes these plagues. Nor do any of them repent."

"In Revelation 16:10, 11 (see also Exod. 10:21-23), we can see that the fifth plague strikes the throne of the beast. It was Satan who deleg ated the throne to the beast (Rev. 13:2). Now even the seat of Satan’s authority cannot withstand the force of these plagues. As people suffer in pain, they realize the inability of Babylon to protect them. However, they have set their minds against God, and even the terror of the plagues does not change their hearts."

"Read Revelation 16:12 along with Revelation 17:1 and 15. What does the symbol of the Euphrates stand for? What is the significance of the drying up of the Euphrates in the context of the seven last plagues?"

"In the Old Testament, the Euphrates was a critical means of support for Israel’s enemies, Assyria and Babylon. The river flowed through Babylon and was important to the city because it nourished crops and provided water for people. Babylon could not survive without the Euphrates."

"Revelation 17:1 describes end-time Babylon as sitting upon many waters, perhaps a reference to the Euphrates (see Jer. 51:13). Revelation 17:15 explains that the waters upon which end-time Babylon sits represent the people who support it: the worldwide civil, secular, and political powers behind the system. However, these powers eventually will retract their support."

"The scene of the sixth plague reflects the capture of ancient Babylon by Cyrus the Persian (see Daniel 5). According to the ancient historian Herodotus, on the night that King Belshazzar and his officials had a feast, the Persians diverted the Euphrates and entered Babylon along the riverbed, taking the city by surprise."

"The symbolic drying up of the Euphrates in Revelation 16:12 results in the collapse of Babylon in the end time. Because the Euphrates in Revelation represents the world’s civil, secular, and political powers giving their support to Babylon, the drying up of the Euphrates symbolizes the withdrawal of their support and their subsequent attack against Babylon, thereby causing its downfall."

"As the people of the world witness the upheaval in nature (see Rev. 16:3-9), they turn to Babylon for protection. However, as the fifth plague strikes the seat of Babylon’s authority (Rev. 16:10, 11), they see the futility of seeking help there. Feeling deceived, they turn against Babylon, causing her downfall (see Rev. 17:16). Yet, as we have seen, their hearts remain hard against God and His people. As such, they become fertile soil for the final deception by which Satan will draw the world to unite against God’s people to wipe them off the face of the earth."

SATAN'S LAST great deception

"Revelation 16:12 tells us that the purpose of the drying up of the Euphrates is to prepare the way for “the kings from the east” (NKJV). In the Old Testament, “the kings from the east” were Cyrus and his forces coming down from the north, then approaching Babylon from the east (Isa. 41:25). Their conquest of Babylon made the return of God’s people to their homeland possible (Isa. 44:27, 28). In the same way, the symbolic drying up of the Euphrates prepares the way for the coming of the kings from the east to provide deliverance to God’s endtime people."

"The kings from the east in Revelation 16:12 are Christ and His army of heavenly angels. At His second coming, Jesus will appear with His angelic host, “clothed in fine linen, white and clean” (Rev. 19:14, NKJV), which is the dress of sinless angels (Rev. 15:6). Accompanied by the host of heaven, Christ will, as Revelation 17:14 shows, overcome the satanic forces that oppress His people (compare Matt. 24:30, 31). This final conflict against Christ and His people leading up to the Second Coming is known as the battle of Armageddon."

"Read Revelation 16:13, 14. What is the role of the three unclean spirits in the preparation for the battle of Armageddon? How are they a satanic counterfeit of the three angels’ messages in Revelation 14? (See 1 Tim. 4:1).

"Through the final events leading up to the close of probation, every human being will be led to choose on which of the two sides he or she will stand in the battle of Armageddon. As a prelude to this spiritual warfare, John sees three demonic spirits resembling frogs. Satan’s last attempt to deceive involves demonic, lying spirits."

"The dragon (paganism and spiritualism), the sea beast (Roman Catholicism), and the false prophet (apostate Protestantism) unite under Satan’s command (see Rev. 13:11, 12). Satan enables the lamblike beast to perform miraculous signs (see Rev. 13:13-17) that include spiritualistic manifestations. These signs are part of Satan’s end-time deceptive strategy to persuade the world to follow him rather than the true God."

"Blinded by their hatred of God and His truth, the leaders of the world readily believe Satan’s lies, which are cloaked in a pleasing religious guise (2 Thess. 2:9-12). Ultimately, they will unite in the final battle leading to the end of this world."

"Read Revelation 16:16. How successful will Satan’s end-time deception be in gathering the people of the world to the battle of Armageddon?"

"The deceptive demonic miracles will achieve worldwide success. In having spurned Bible teachings, people will believe a lie that will be accompanied by deceptive miracles (see 2 Thess. 2:9-12). They will unite together in purpose, symbolized by their gathering to a “place,” which is in Hebrew called Armageddon, meaning “the mountain of Megiddo.” Megiddo was not a mountain, but a fortress city located in the Valley of Jezreel (or the Plain of Esdraelon) at the foot of the Mount Carmel ridge. It was an important strategic site."

"The Plain of Esdraelon was known for many decisive battles in Israel’s history (see Judg. 5:19; Judg. 6:33; 2 Kings 9:27; 2 Kings 23:29, 30). Revelation uses this historical background to depict a final great conflict, called Armageddon, between Christ and the forces of evil. The people of the world are portrayed as a unified army under the leadership of this satanic league."

"The “mountain of Megiddo” is an apparent allusion to Mount Carmel that towers above the valley in which the ancient city of Megiddo was located. Mount Carmel was the site of one of the greatest clashes in Israel’s history, between God’s true prophet (Elijah) and the false prophets of Baal (1 Kings 18). This showdown answered the question “Who is the true God?” The fire that came from heaven demonstrated that the Lord was the only true God and the only one to be worshiped. While the spiritual issue of the battle of Armageddon—Will we obey God or man?—is decided before the plagues fall, those who side with the dragon, the beast, and the false prophet (Rev. 16:13), will then be totally controlled by the devil (as Judas was, leading up to Christ’s crucifixion [Luke 22:3])."

"Having chosen the losing side, they will be among those who cry for the mountains to hide them (Rev. 6:16; read also 2 Thess. 1:7, 8). Before the plagues fall, however, Revelation 13:13, 14 portrays the earth beast bringing fire down from heaven to deceive the world into thinking that Satan’s counterfeit, which will include false revivals led by another spirit, is the work of God."

"Armageddon is not a military battle among nations to be fought somewhere in the Middle East, but a global spiritual contest in which Christ decisively confronts the forces of darkness (see 2 Cor. 10:4). The outcome will be like that at Carmel but on a worldwide scale—with God’s triumph over the forces of darkness."

"For many years, people have been looking at political and military turmoil in the Middle East as signs of the end and of Armageddon. Despite many predictions and date-settings, Armageddon, as they have envisioned it, has not come. How can we protect ourselves from making similar mistakes in regard to interpreting these localized events as the fulfillments of Bible prophecy?"

"“None but those who have fortified the mind with the truths of the Bible will stand through the last great conflict. To every soul will come the searching test: Shall I obey God rather than men? . . . The apostle Paul declared, looking down to the last days: ‘The time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine.’ 2 Timothy 4:3. That time has fully come. The multitudes do not want Bible truth, because it interferes with the desires of the sinful, world-loving heart; and Satan supplies the deceptions which they love."

"“But God will have a people upon the earth to maintain the Bible, and the Bible only, as the standard of all doctrines and the basis of all reforms. The opinions of learned men, the deductions of science, the creeds or decisions of ecclesiastical councils, as numerous and discordant as are the churches which they represent, the voice of the majority—not one nor all of these should be regarded as evidence for or against any point of religious faith. Before accepting any doctrine or precept, we should demand a plain ‘Thus saith the Lord’ in its support. . . ."

"“As the crowning act in the great drama of deception, Satan himself will personate Christ. The church has long professed to look to the Saviour’s advent as the consummation of her hopes. Now the great deceiver will make it appear that Christ has come. In different parts of the earth, Satan will manifest himself among men as a majestic being of dazzling brightness, resembling the description of the Son of God given by John in the Revelation. Revelation 1:13-15. The glory that surrounds him is unsurpassed by anything that mortal eyes have yet beheld. The shout of triumph rings out upon the air: ‘Christ has come! Christ has come!’ The people prostrate themselves in adoration before him. . . . In gentle, compassionate tones he presents some of the same gracious, heavenly truths which the Saviour uttered; he heals the diseases of the people, and then, in his assumed character of Christ, he claims to have changed the Sabbath to Sunday, and commands all to hallow the day which he has blessed. He declares that those who persist in keeping holy the seventh day are blaspheming his name by refusing to listen to his angels sent to them with light and truth. This is the strong, almost overmastering delusion.”—Ellen G. White, The Great Controversy, pp. 593-595, 624."

QUESTIONS

"• Read Jesus’ admonition in Revelation 16:15, inserted into the description of the preparation for the battle of Armageddon. Note the similar wording in Christ’s earlier appeal to the church of Laodicea (Rev. 3:18). How do Christ’s words show the significance of the Laodicean message for God’s people living at the time of the preparation for the final conflict? In what way does this message apply to you personally?"

"• White and clean garments in Revelation symbolize the righteousness of Christ (Rev. 3:4, 5; Rev. 19:7-9). Only those who clothe themselves with the robe of Christ’s righteousness will be able to stand firm in the final crisis. How does one make his or her robes white and clean in the blood of the Lamb (Rev. 7:14)?"

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cupcakefren · 5 years

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Im not gonna lie

This is going to be long, sad, depressing and worrying, depending on who’s reading this. You are not obligated to read this, as admittedly its just gonna be a pity party, but, im going to try something. A sort of mental hail merry. Though to be honest, i dont even know what all i want to say, there’s so much in my head, so much of it i cant even differentiate between it anymore. I’ll just write, and what is said is said. Im so tired, i truly just dont care about life anymore. Im not suicidal mind you, i dont actively want to die. But if i was to drop dead today, i dont think i’d work myself up to much. And, i dont rightly know why. There’s a few ideas in my head but i have no clue. Ive been living so many lies in my 18 years that now i dont even know what i am, who i am. Ive made up titles and stories about myself to make myself seem interesting and likable, that if you look at all my individual friend groups, each-one could tell you about a different Paul. Im a habitual liar, to the point that im even doubting the legitimacy of what im typing now! And, that eats me up, no-one, absolutely no-one knows me truly, knows the real me, not even you. Sure they know pieces, the ones relative to the story im telling, They might know the important things, but the little things that make Paul, Paul? Hell just go talk to my friend group from school, they can feed you an entirely different person. I hate it, i hate having to keep up all these stories, but now there so far at sea if i tried to come clean i’d burn those metaphorical friendships down. But, the worst part? At this point, i dont even know what i am anymore. What to call myself, what titles are true and not ones i took for myself to blend in. Im a writer who doesnt write, a gamer who doesnt enjoy the hobby anymore, a romantic who’s desire to love has faded, a friend who’s pushed everyone away, and a lover that isnt present mentally or physically. Plus whatever fake ones i came up to look cool, historian, martial artist, astronomer, whatever. The titles i once held dear to me, that were true to my fundamental being lie in ashes and swept away in the wind and now that im laid bare, im scared. Im cold. I just want to shrivel away and disappear somewhere where i wont be a bother to anybody. I could end here... But there’s so much more i want to say. I dont have a desire to do anything anymore. I wake up, eat something, maybe text if im up for it, play games and thats it. Maybe go to the gym occasionally, make a phone call. But the things that make life fun, and worthwhile, things i used to complain i never had time for dont bring me joy. I could spend days behind a game, engrossed in its story or gameplay, or write the most mediocre stories on my computer, and as bad as those stories were they were the world to me, and now i stare at the start screen, or the blinking line of a document, and just sigh. I have so many people that want to reach out to me, and i find myself muting or ignoring them. When my heart is screaming to reach out, cling to the lifeline their throwing at me. But my mind just doesnt have the energy anymore. Im drowning in schoolwork i need to get done or im gonna get kicked out, but everytime i boot up the computer and open up the website, i just shrug and ignore it. Im screaming at myself to do something, be active, be productive, “At the very least log onto duelingo, continue your french lessons, or work on a Dungeon for D&D! You have all the free time if you arent going to do your work at least!” But nothing, i just lay there. Plus, if you look back, look at how many broken promises ive made. Without going into to much detail, i sit on a throne of lies and broken promises. I always talk about the value of your word and honesty but honestly i lie to myself everyday. What hurts the most with this, the one thing that hammers a knife into my heart everytime it crosses my mind is my girlfriend, my poor little songbird. I love her like the sun and moon. For the longest time she was the one thing that gave me joy, but even that has been ripped from me. Its no fault of her own, she’s been absolutely, completely wonderful and tries so hard to help me but even that source of joy does nothing for my aching heart anymore. And, that hurts, because with every-day i feel a wedge growing between us, being hammered in by every unspoken word when we’re together, every conversation ended prematurely because i dont have the energy to continue, every missed phone-call because im sleeping at 4 in the afternoon. And im so scared we’re going to grow to resent each-other. She deserves better then my emotionally numb self, and, while i dont want to be without her there’s a part of me that hopes she finds someone better, someone who can care for her better then me, that can be there for her instead of lying in bed at the ceiling. I wont hold a bit of resentment for her if she does. She deserves the world, and im not the man who can give it to her. Maybe it says something about me that i cant say this directly to those who need to hear it from me, and am instead of writing it on Tumblr where they might stumble upon it. But, there’s one title i can say for sure about myself. Im a coward, im so scared of speaking my mind, and maybe thats what ties into it all, but, regardless. Im sorry, to everyone, Seb, Vlad, Nick, Cole, and especially you Jay. You all deserve a better friend then me. Im not gonna sit here and say im gonna change, as little energy as i have anymore thats just unlikely, but i can say i’ll try. Cause i doubt you want to see me like this, and i certainly dont want to live my life like this. What im doing is existing, not living. And, i’ll reiterate this, im not suicidal. Before anyone gets worried, no-one is going to be getting that phone call. I’ll make it through this, one way or another. I just, had to say some things, i might make another post later, but right now im tired again.

#depression #Tw death mention #mental health #mental illness #energy #im so tired #i love you all #self-improvement

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aion-rsa · 7 years

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Pénélope Bagieu is California Dreamin’ About Mama Cass

French cartoonist Pénélope Bagieu has established herself as a creator to watch for in her native country — her series “Josephine” was adapted into two popular French movies, she’s collaborated with French cartooning legend Joann Sfar, and in 2013, she was honored as Chevalier of Arts and Letters at Angoulême. Her first work to be translated into English, “Exquisite Corpse” in 2015, garnered strong reviews, and she returned to U.S. shelves earlier this month with “California Dreamin’: Cass Elliot Before The Mamas and The Papas.”

At nearly 300 pages, “California Dreamin’” chronicles, as the subtitle suggests, Elliott’s adolescent family life and pre-fame struggles for recognition and respect among her music peers. In fact, it ends with Elliott finally hearing her song on the radio, commercial success on the horizon. Following its September 2015 French publication by Gallimard, “California Dreamin’”s English translation and distribution will again by handled by First Second Books, who previously published Bagieu’s English-language debut.

RELATED: Pénélope Bagieu Introduces Her Exquisite Corpse to the United States

While on a signing tour of the States, Bagieu spoke with CBR, discussing the early appeal of Mama Cass’s voice and presence, reinventing her illustration style, and why this book is more about getting her audience to feel something about Cass rather than know her factual biography.

CBR: Pénélope, what got you started on a comic book biography of Mama Cass?

Pénélope Bagieu: I remember discovering their best-of album (a cassette!) in my parents’ car and quickly stealing it away because I loved every song. I listened to it about a million times. Back then, the stereo of my room had a broken speaker, so I had only half the sound, and in particular, it isolated one of the voices. It was Cass Elliot’s, who made the song, most of the time. And then her image fascinated me too, on the cover: she was twice the size of the others, and she laughed with her mouth wide open, while the others looked mysterious. My fascination with Cass goes way back!

Then I started investigating about her… She grew up in a modest family in Baltimore, but she tackled everything at 19 [by setting out] for New York, all by herself. She was destined to take over the kosher deli from her parents, but she wanted to be a rock star. She was overweight but pictured herself on a Broadway stage. The whole world swore by Joan Baez, but she hated folk music. All men friendzoned her but she fell in love every ten minutes. The members of the Mamas and Papas did not want her in the band, but she sang so well that they were forced to take her (and to make a career largely thanks to her presence). I can’t believe she doesn’t have ten biopics by now.

Each chapter is from a different supporting player’s perspective, which allows different perspectives on her life. Why did you decide on that approach? And how much work went into getting details about how each of these narrators saw Cass?

I wanted Cass’s character to be revealed bit by bit, from different perspectives: people who knew her, loved her, hated her, but never through her own eyes, so that she would remain a mystery that the reader alone would have to solve. Like I read interviews of her family, band members, artists, while trying to figure out the Cass puzzle myself first. Her own interviews are very opaque, because she always put on that act of the joyous fun persona, while I think she was broken inside.

You give a lot of time to her adolescence and home life, which is often given short shrift or completely skipped in favor of the lascivious details of the Mamas and the Papas. Why did you opt for that approach?

This is exactly why this work was never a biography to me: I chose to end my story exactly when the song “California Dreamin'” hits the radios. When Ellen Cohen becomes Mama Cass. When she becomes that public figure, with that famous band, with the career that we know, the sordid details of John Phillips and the myth of the choking-on-a-sandwich. That part didn’t interest me much. But the little girl, the teenager, the young woman, the path to becoming that rockstar that we all know, that’s the kind of stories I love to read (and therefore, write). I don’t like to read biographies; I like to read captivating portraits, that I can relate to.

You do an excellent job balancing her larger-than-life, outgoing nature against some of her insecurities, particularly regarding her feelings for Denny. Was it a challenge to find the proper balance of those aspects of her personality?

That’s exactly what I have in mind when I say I’m not interested in biographies: I like to put myself in a character’s shoes and imagine how I would feel. All the interviews I’ve read from people who knew her, they all praised her cheerfulness, her jokes, her Like-I-care attitude towards people who judged her. But labels wouldn’t sign contracts to her unless she lost weight, and told her to her face, without any care. The man she loved the most ran away with her best friend. She went through so much. Of course she must have kept so much inside. The challenge of never giving her the speech in my story, and letting the reader understand all these inner-wounds for himself, forced me to a lot of empathy.

As we might expect, the book is peppered with celebrity cameos. Was there anybody who showed up in her life that surprised you? Anybody you wanted to fit into the book, but didn’t quite work for this story?

In so many stories of that time, she will appear in the background, of the blue! “We were at a party at Cass Elliot’s”, “Along comes Mama Cass with tons of free drugs for everybody,” etc. In most of the photographs I’ve found, she’s lying on a sofa backstage, giggling with Jimi Hendrix or having a beer with Mick Jagger. The parties at her mansion (in the hammock !) in Laurel Canyon were the place to be, apparently. But yes, there is one story I had to let go and would have demanded that I kept telling the story ten years farther [than I did]: Cass was a huge fan of John Lennon. More than a fan, she had a real crush on him. The Mamas and the Papas covered “I Call Your Name,” that Cass wanted to sing because of her love for the Beatles. During the break of the song, she whispers “John…”. Years after that, the Ms&Ps played in London and went to party afterwards. But Cass was sick and in bed. And when they returned, they told her “You’re gonna be mad when you learn who we met and spent the night drinking with!” (the Beatles, that is). And apparently, John Lennon asked which of the two girls whispered his name in the song, and when he heard that it was Cass, he said, “Too bad.” (nice.)

Don’t get me started on rock n’ roll anecdotes, I will never stop.

How long did you research her life?

Not too long. Colossal amount of dates and facts tend A) to paralyse me B) bore me. I’m not a journalist, nor a historian. The only thing I want to make extra sure of is that nothing I say is not true. The whole thing would collapse if I made up reality. But when I have this backbone of checked facts, actual dates and events, then I can start doing my real job, which is connecting the dots, giving personality to people and tell a story. I really think you shouldn’t read this kind of story to learn something, but only to feel something strong, and discover someone, and want to know more.

“California Dreamin’” was published last fall by Gallimard in France. Do the Mamas and the Papas have a strong French following?

Depends on the generation! But usually, even younger people will immediately light up when they hear the first notes of the song. This song is so timeless and universal that, of course, if you turn on a radio station in France right now you will hear “California Dreamin’” sooner or later before the end of day. Not that you need to know (nor like) the song to read the book.

Your previous book in English, “Exquisite Corpse,” was full of bright blocks of colors. How does working black & white change your approach to your artwork?

It was a very long piece and I knew I would need a challenge to keep myself entertained in the process. Also I wanted to create a unity between all these chapters that go from the 40s to the 60s, with all these different outfits, cars, hairstyles. But mostly, I wanted to free my drawing, and a simple cheap pencil, compared to my usual big Photoshop+Wacom industry, [allowed that] – without any going-back or correcting (I never used an eraser in this book), [showing] possible stains, fingerprints, coffee drippings once in a while [when] working from coffee shops. [Drawing] without a safety net, I really loved it, and it changed my way of drawing. It felt like a giant sketchbook, where all my characters (especially Cass) were moving, living, in a very vibrant way. And I also loved the feeling of having dirty hands like a kindergartener at the end of the day!

What’s next for you?

The next book that I will publish with First Second is called “Brazen.” It’s an anthology of extraordinarily cool women (again) who changed History but never made it to History books. They are mermaids, rockstars, spies, astronauts, shamans, actresses, bandits, empresses, rappers, criminologists, all of them practically unknown and yet so amazing. It came out in France a few months ago, and will be out in English (along with 8 other languages) next year, so I can’t wait!

“California Dreamin'” is currently available from First Second Books.

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