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scarlettriot · 3 years

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Along for the Ride PT 1

Pairing: KirishimaxF!Reader

Summary: A drunken mistake had you marking the little Plus One box to your snobby cousin's wedding. Kirishima told you not to worry, if you couldn't find a date, he'd go with you. When the wedding gets moved up, there's absolutely no time to find a date and you're now about to be traveling to America with Kirishima on a private jet no less, dreading having him meet your rude and impossibly arrogant family.

Contains: Kirishima and Reader both come from very well-off families. Plus-Sized Reader. Fluff. Hurt/Comfort.

Warnings: Kinda smutty for a minute. Minors DNI. Drunken Sex. TW: Manipulative Family Relationships. TW: Body Image Issues

A/N: This story has been rolling around in my head for a while now. I might rewrite this and repost. Or I might just post the whole thing soon. I dunno yet. It does get smuttier.

Word Count: 4,974

"What's up with Y/N?"

Eijiro stepped out of the locker room with a towel slung over his shoulder and made his way into the kitchenette where Mina was chugging a bottle of water before getting back to her patrol. His eyes were trained on their mutual friend out on the patio, pacing.

You had your phone pressed to your ear, the high neck of your hero costume unzipped to your collarbone and he noticed your gloves discarded on a chair.

"No clue." Mina shrugged. "She got back from patrol and she noticed a bunch of missed calls from her mom. She's been out there, flailing on the phone for the last fifteen minutes now."

The three of you had met in your second year at UA when you transferred into their class and were quickly accepted by their little squad of friends. You were a bit quiet at first but quickly found comfort in the group. Eijiro had grown especially close to you when you both interned with Fat Gum.

Late nights traveling on the train back to school, a few close calls while helping patrol, and days spent playing cards while you both healed up in the hospital left plenty of time for Eijiro to get to know you better than most. It was how he knew you had a pretty bad relationship with your family, why you hated returning home for the holidays almost as much as you hated any and all forms of tomatoes.

He considered going out there just to see if there was anything he could do but before he had the chance, you were sliding the glass door open. "Oh, good, you're back." He offered you a bottle of water for your throat that he assumed was sore after that argument. "I- um- can I borrow you for a second? Alone?"

Mina snorted a laugh. "If you guys wanna bang it out on the counter you can just say so. I gotta go to work anyways."

Eijiro threw the towel at her as she left the room leaving you two alone. "What's goin' on?"

You hoisted yourself up on the countertop while he leaned against the fridge. "You remember my cousin's wedding that's happening this winter?"

He nodded. He vividly remembered the both of you getting waste a few weeks ago when you were filling out the RSVP and accidentally marking 'plus one'. Then you ran around trying to find White Out but he'd told you if you didn't find a date or have a significant other by the time of the wedding, he'd just go with you.

You argued that your family was bat shit crazy, had more money than they could spend in their lifetime and because of that, they were among some of the rudest people you knew, and you didn't want Eijiro or anyone else around that.

The thing was, Eijiro already knew that and was still okay with going. He came from money too. A lot of it. His family was just more welcoming than yours, the wealth never really going to their heads. But, he reminded you that he'd ran into enough people like those in your family that he knew how to handle them. You finally agreed to let him accompany you, leaving the plus one box checked but the name line blank.

"Well, my cousin just found out that surprise, she's pregnant! And, obviously, she can't have a wedding while seven months along so they've decided to move the wedding up to this weekend."

He nearly choked on his own spit. "This weekend? As in four days from now?"

"Yup! Saturday at 4 in the evening. Oh! No one's supposed to know she's pregnant either. So, I'm just supposed to compliment her on how flattering her dress looks, how thin she is," Your hands strangled the water bottle between them, "And I have to find something flattering to my figure because my mother has seen me in my hero outfit and she's so glad I wear a mask because if anyone knew her daughter ran around looking like I do, well, it'd ruin her!"

You massaged your temples circling back to the actual point, "Anyways, I just wanted to bitch for a sec and let you know you're off the hook since four days is just a little short notice and I told her my plus one wouldn't be able to get the time off that fast."

He pushed off the fridge. "Well, wait, hang on! I'm not letting you go in alone to deal with them! Hell no! You need backup!" You looked almost taken aback by his abruptness, "Yeah. I can work this out. Is the wedding at the same place it was supposed to be or has it moved?"

"No, it's still that fancy lodge in California. I was planning on leaving Friday morning and then coming back either Sunday night or Monday morning since my mother insists I go to their brunch the following day. But, Eijiro, I already have this weekend off..."

"Denki owes me a favor or twelve. He's supposed to be off this weekend too, I'll just see if he can cover me."

"And if he can't?"

"Then..." He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, "Y/N, am I feeling warm to you? I think I might be starting a fever!"

You folded your arms, shaking your head, "Thought you said lying isn't manly."

"Technically, correct. But, what would be real unmanly is for me to let you deal with your family's bullshit all alone." You watched him closely, "To be honest, I'm sure we could just explain you had a family thing come up and asked me to come along for moral support. I don't really think anyone would think twice about it. Hell, you took a few days off to console me when my turtle died suddenly!"

"Eiji, you refused to eat."

"And you brought me my favorite dumplings! Same thing!"

You might have shaken your head at him but your arms opened wide. The telltale sign you wanted affection. He walked forward, consuming you in a tight hug. Your arms latched around his neck, face buried in the hollow of his throat. "You're the best."

"I just do what I can."

>>><<<

You should have canceled. Instead of Eijiro faking sick to get out of work, you should have faked it with your mother so you didn't have to go in the first place. You crumpled to the floor of your bedroom in pure frustration amidst the twenty or so outfits and dozen pairs of shoes you'd thrown out of your closet trying to find something that your mother would deem appropriate.

It wasn't your fault you had a fuller figure. You worked out, ate right, not to mention your job kept you very active, and yet your, hips, ass, and breasts were by no means subtle.

Your mother had also insisted on the dress being floor-length and modern, "Do try not wearing all black. It's a wedding, not a funeral. And, get your hair looking natural, please." And, just like that, 70% of your wardrobe was out the window!

"It's open!" You called from the floor when the doorbell rang.

"You really should lock this." Mina tutted, walking through the door with a bag full of takeout.

"I do. At night."

"Honey, it's 9 PM."

"Night like bedtime."

Mina just rolled her eyes and walked into your tiny kitchen. "I see the dress hunt is going well."

"I actually figured it out!" You got off the floor, careful not to step on a heel as you made your way to the pink haired woman, "I'm just gonna go in my birthday suit. I figured, my mother made my body technically therefore she can't disapprove of it. Because, you know, she's never done anything wrong in her life!"

Your best friend snorted out a laugh and passed you the take-out container stuffed full of stir fry. "you're a wonderful person, you know that?" You loved the fact Mina didn't even have to ask what you wanted.

"If you'd just move closer to work then you could pick it up yourself and I wouldn't have to bring it to you."

"Too expensive." You declared after a mouthful. "You pay almost twice as much as I do per month and I just don't see the point. I have damn near the same amount of space you do for half the cost!"

You adored your small one-bedroom apartment. It was perfect. Right above a bakery that you visited each morning after your run and a little balcony that provided you with the most stunning view of the sunset.

"You and Kiri, I swear." Mina just shook her head and curled up with her food on the loveseat. "I thought he'd end up with the biggest house out of us all the moment we started making that real Pro money. You've seen his parent's house. It's massive! You could get lost in that place!"

Eijiro's place was barely bigger than your own. He lived in the same condo he had since you'd graduated UA, claiming it was perfect for him in each and every way. But, you knew that he donated a sizable amount of his paycheck every month to charities, the same as you. With savings to spare, neither of you saw the point in hoarding it and therefore the small condo was all he could afford with what he actually kept.

"Just don't understand how a guy that big can live in such a tiny little space. At least with you, it's you know, physically feasible."

Eijiro's bedroom was barely large enough to fit the king-sized bed the man needed to sleep comfortably and even then, his feet were dangerously close to dangling off the bed. And, as if the man's ears were burning, your cell phone went off under a pile of discarded shoes.

Shark-E: Figured out your dress situation? If not, I'm just gonna pack like ten different ties and hope for the best.

You: Yeah! I totally did! I'm just gonna wear this birthday suit I got and call it a night.

You chuckled at your own joke all over again. Watching the grey ellipses appear and then vanish, appear and vanish again. After a third time, you took pity on the man.

You: Joking, Ei. I still don't have it figured out but Mina's over so, hopefully, she can help.

Shark-E: Gonna give me a damn heart attack! Seriously, I wouldn't put it past you just to see the look on your mom's face. Tell Mina hi and good luck to you. I vote the dress from the Hero Gala two years ago.

You: Hi from Mina. Can't. Too much boobs.

Shark-E: You take that back right now! There is NEVER such a thing as too much boobs!

You chuckled to yourself, putting your phone down, and then finished off the last of your delicious dinner, thinking about the dress Eijiro mentioned.

You wondered if maybe there was a way you could make the thing work but it was so very low cut. So much tape had been used to make sure no slips happened but damn was it worth it! The beaded bodice with the sparkling long sleeves, gods, how you loved that dress.

"I'm inclined to agree with our shark boy. You're busty, who gives a damn. You looked hot as hell in that dress."

"My mother, that's who. As much as I'd like to not give a flying fuck what she thinks, for some dumb reason, I do. On top of her telling me that the amount of cleavage I would show would be vastly inappropriate for a wedding, she'd also say the way it hugs my hips makes them look too fat."

Mina rolled her eyes. "She's such a piece of work." Pushing herself up, she held her arms out to you, wiggling little pink fingers for you to take. "Come on then. Let's get you sorted."

"What about that one you wore to the charity art thingy with Kyoka last winter? The one with the silver top."

"Silver is too close to white." You called out from within your closet.

"What! Not true!"

"You know that. I know that. Every person with two brain cells knows that, which is why most of my family does not know that."

"Fine..." She whined and started sifting through the opposite end of your closet. "Oh, what about this?" Mina waved about the blue and green plaid skirt that made up your uniform from your middle school days when you lived in America. "Please try this on. I'm begging!"

You were pretty sure it wouldn't even go over your thighs anymore.

"It's got a better chance of fitting you!"

Mina threw it at you anyway. Slipping off the sweats you wore, somehow, someway, you were able to tug it on AND get it zipped, barely. It no longer covered your ass but you still enjoyed the way it swished around when you wiggled your hips.

"You could be fulfilling so many people's fantasies right now." Mina mused.

You pulled the skirt off and sweats back on, throwing the former back at her. "Yeah, you can take it and go fulfill Hanta's fantasies if you like. Not like I've got anyone to impress." You pulled down a dress you bought on sale a year ago but Mina was quick to dismiss it.

Too puffy, she said and then held up one that was from Momo. "I needed to get it shortened and I don't have time for that now."

"Wait..." She hummed and dropped the Momo dress. "I know what it should be!"

Mina hurried through the closet, grumbling about not finding it. "Just tell me which dress and I can tell you where it's at."

"It's that one you got for grad night and then you got sick and couldn't go!"

"Mina, Mina I can't wear that! That's actual vintage, not like, made-to-look-vintage!"

"But it's so elegant and has that off-the-shoulder sleeve thing. The wedding is at a damn sky lodge! It'll look so pretty in the snow! Ah! Found it!"

She yanked up the long, elegant gown from the garment bag you'd never removed it from. There wasn't a single wrinkle in the burgundy fabric. It looked just as beautiful as the day you found it in that second-hand store, on a mannequin with gaudy stage jewels that you just had to buy so the look was complete.

You ran the back of your hand over the velvety fabric, soft to the touch. "It'll be too tight now. If I was the same size I was at graduation-"

"Bullshit!" Mina cut you off with a dismissive hand, "You've got hips now. We aren't 18 anymore! It's not like it's some clubbing dress. And I bet no one would say a damn thing about your figure if they knew how easily you could crush them with those thighs!"

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Without quirks, you gave every single one of your classmates a run for their money in hand to hand. Most were fairly easy to beat. You could usually take down Eijiro in about five or six minutes and Katsuki in half the time. Funny enough, it was Ochaco that gave you the hardest time.

"I'll consider it. But help me find something else just in case."

>>><<<

It was another two hours before you finally agreed on an a-line, empire waist green and gold number that had been the bridesmaid's dresses for Tetsutetsu's wedding. Mina thought they were a crime the first time they had to wear them, she had no idea what you were thinking.

That's why the moment you were preoccupied with trying to find yet another dress for the Sunday brunch, Mina pulled out her phone.

You: DO NOT, under any circumstances, allow Y/N to wear the green dress. She's bringing two because she can't decide. Red is the winner!

Jaws: Aw, come on. If she likes it, let her wear whatever she's comfortable in. She'll be under enough stress already.

You: Kirishima, it's the dress from Tetsu's wedding. The one that looks sparkly baby food.

It took him a second to respond.

Jaws: Alright. Understood. I thought you guys looked good but damn, she hated that dress.

You: We all did.

Mina looked at the message chain again and couldn't help but asked, "Are we just gonna ignore the fact that you and Eiji are flying all the way to America, last minute, to attend a wedding together, even though you're not together?"

"We've flown to the states before."

"For work!" She sat up eagerly. "This is different, Y/N! This is a date and not just a, like, casual date but a wedding date!"

You poked your head out of the closet. "No, it isn't. This is a friend helping another friend who stupidly mismarked an RSVP." You corrected very plainly but Mina wasn't one to give up so easily.

She whined, dragging out your name, "You guys have been doing this thing for ages. Why do you have to be so stubborn about it all!"

"What's that supposed to mean!"

Mina started ticking off points on her fingers. "He was the first person you opened up to at UA. You saved his life when he was busy saving Katsuki's life second year. You spent all that time interning together, became sidekicks together. Went to America together for three whole months, ALONE, and you honestly expect me to think there's nothing between the two of you!"

The truth of it all was simple really; 17 year old you had a massive crush on Eijiro Kirishima. He was sweet, always listening to you, providing comfort when you needed it, and always encouraging you to push your limits. He was bright and honest, a little slow in the head from time to time but that made him all the more endearing.

He was also head over heels in love with Katsuki Bakugo.

It was why you never made a move. Never spoke a word of the feelings you harbored. You didn't dare to cross that line with him because you couldn't ever hold a candle to the explosive man.

In the three years Eijiro and Katsuki spent together, your brain finally started registering Eijiro as just a friend, nothing more, and certainly nothing less. You thought your heart had followed suit but it was becoming more and more apparent that wasn't the case. Because the night he showed up at your door, tears in his ruby eyes, every lock you put on your heart broke open.

The same way you couldn't hold a candle to Katsuki, Eijiro couldn't hold one to Izuku. You knew exactly what he was feeling even if you never intended to tell him. Too overcome with fear. If Katsuki came back... that'd be it. Eijiro would go back and you wouldn't even blame him!

Still, the redhead consumed a decent chunk of your heart though, you couldn't deny that after the three months you spent together in America, gathering intel on a smuggling ring, living in the same apartment. The groggy, 'good mornings' when his voice was still scratchy with sleep, hair falling in his eyes. The late nights bandaging wounds and killing cheap bottles of wine while watching terrible American reality shows.

It was those bottles of wine that did you in on your second to last night in America. Supplying you with courage and draining your sense of reason, allowing you to crawl onto his lap, into his arms. You could still remember the pressure of his lips on yours, those sharp teeth gently dragging along your lower lip.

Scared hands tracing the curve of your ass before taking handfuls to squeeze. The laugh that came from you was unlike anything you heard before, something so genuine that you couldn't reproduce.

How it felt when he lifted you up and took you to his bed, laying you down taking his time removing your clothes, and watching with awe as you pulled away his own. The way he looked over top of you, his hair a curtain of red around you just before you closed your eyes, gasping while he filled you.

You also remembered the guilt that crept into your head during the wee hours of the morning, the doubt that was louder than the snores coming from behind you.

It made you slip from under his massive arm, gather up your clothes from his floor, you tucked the blanket around him, and pressed a kiss to his temple before padding out of the room.

You told yourself you'd talk to him about it if he brought it up, but he never did. Not the next morning, or night, not on the plane ride back home, nor anytime since. It was a memory you'd hold close to your heart, one you wouldn't let slip away or share.

"There's nothing there, Mina. We're just good friends is all." You lied with a smile on your face, something that had become surprisingly easy to do.

If only you knew that Mina saw right through it. That Mina already knew the truth of it all.

>>><<<

It was nearly one in the morning when your phone rang. The goofy picture of Eijiro with face half painted at a festival a few years back never failed to make you grin.

"It's a little late." You answered by way of greeting.

"Don't pretend like you were anywhere close to sleeping, you little night owl."

Chuckling at the nickname that had followed you since high school, "What's up, Eiji?"

"I was going over flights. You said in the office that you wanted to leave on Friday?"

"Yeah. I have patrol tomorrow and I didn't find any flights after 6 PM so, Friday is the earliest."

He was quiet on the other line for a moment. "Yeah, you don't have patrol tomorrow, or work at all for that matter."

You sat up a bit straighter in bed. "Um, yes I do."

"No, you don't. I called Mina, asked her if you'd mind taking that shift for you and, since she knows what's happening, she agreed the extra day for travel would do you some good. So, she's covering you tomorrow then you're off work until next Wednesday. As for me, thanks to all that overtime I put in when Denki, Kyoka, and Hitoshi got married, the three of them are splitting up my days so I have until Wednesday too."

Eijiro sounded impossibly proud on the other line, you could almost see the smirk on his face. "You've got this all planned out, don't you?"

"And a bag nearly packed. Just need you to tell me what ties to bring."

"Gold, burgundy, and black."

"Thought your mom said no black for you?"

"She said no black for the wedding. She said nothing about black at the brunch!"

You couldn't wait to put on the tea-length dress that had been a favorite for years. Satin with a lacy top and, best of all, pockets.

He let out a rumbling laugh that fell off into comfortable silence as you laid back in your bed, lights still on, the room still a mess. You tapped the speaker icon and laid the phone on the pillow right beside your head, listing to the various sounds of Eijiro moving around.

A door creaking open, a hanger clattering against another, and a zipper. "And just like that, I'm all set."

"Don't forget your passport or hero license."

"I have one in my wallet and the other in my backpack."

You swiped up on your iPad, off Netflix, and going to google, lazily searching through flights. "So, did you find any good flights since you've clearly been looking?"

Another chuckle, "Eijiro, why are you laughing?" More stifled giggles had you sitting up in bed again. "Just tell me a site you were on. They're just flights, what's so funny?"

"There isn't a site."

"You said you were checking flights."

"And I was... on my family's jet."

"Eiji! No! No, no, no! That is supposed to be for their business or hero things! My stupid cousin's wedding is neither of those things!"

"Relax, Y/N. My family has multiple and they don't have any business trips planned right now anyways. I already cleared it with my mom. Seriously, I just mention your name and she's likely to let me have it for a whole year at least. Plus Todoroki's is back up in working order so the agency is covered too."

Damn, why'd he have to be so good at planning from time to time! You'd completely forgotten about the second jet his family had. Always opting for the larger one since the few missions they needed it for required them to bring fifty or so heroes along.

"Besides, if we fly private, we can land at an airstrip closer to the venue and won't need to drive four hours on top of a ten-hour flight."

"Alright, okay, thank you but, let me take care of the rental car, please. It's the least you can let me do."

"Deal. I just have one more question for ya."

"What's that?"

"Wanna leave tonight?"

You nearly dropped your damn iPad in shock. "Eijiro! What the fuck has gotten into you! It's the middle of the night!"

"I'm excited!" He boomed, "I haven't had a vacation in months!"

"I hate to break this to you, buddy, but this isn't going to be a vacation. You really shouldn't get your hopes up. This isn't going to be a good time with laughs and fun memories... my family, they just, they aren't those kinds of people."

"But we are." He stated matter-of-factly. "If they want to have sticks up their asses then let them! We'll have a good time on our own, laugh and make fun memories! So, what do you say, Y/N? I can be at your place in fifteen. I just gotta put shoes on and grab my keys..."

"Wait, hang on. Are you forgetting that we need someone to, oh, I dunno, FLY THE PLANE! Actually, we need two someone's, can't forget about a co-pilot!"

He hummed happily and you rubbed your temples. "You, you have a pilot and a co, don't you, Eiji?"

"Mhm! There is a company we use. Two can be at the hanger in an hour and every hour after that. I just have to make the call and get the flight plan approved which will be done before I even get to your house."

There was literally no reason to say no. You had mostly everything packed, nothing you needed to get from the store, all you had to do was put on pants and pack up your hygiene bag and you were ready too. Maybe getting there quicker and getting the whole thing over with would be better than staying home dwelling on everything.

"Better put your shoes on."

The glee in his voice, that was enough to make this whole thing worth it, "I'll see you soon."

>>><<<

Eijiro reached into the backseat and plopped a bag down on your lap the very moment you were buckled in. "Had to make a pit stop." He explained.

"It's after two in the morning, where'd you have to..."

"Just open the bag and don't complain."

You found it filled to the brim with all your favorite snacks.

"I'm sure the plane will have a bunch of snacks we can raid but I know for a fact they don't have these." He held up a pack of cookies and creme flavored pocky that had been his favorite for as long as you'd known him, quickly followed by your favorite flavor too. You also found a massive bag of gummy worms and jolly ranchers.

"So, what you're telling me is our teeth are going to rot by the time we land? Not that I'm complaining."

You ripped open the bag of ranchers knowing that was what he'd go for first and sure enough his hand dove inside just as he pulled away from the curb. You could hear his dangerously sharp teeth biting through the rock candy like it was nothing while you still rolled one around your mouth.

Eijiro asked you about the resort you'd be going to, wondering if you'd been there before or what other stuff you guys could do when you weren't dealing with your family. "I figured we could fly back Monday night or Tuesday morning, you know, just play it by ear in case there was anything else we wanted to do."

More than anything, you wished you could just leech a little bit of that excitement from him. The glimpses of his smile you caught as you drove under the street lights made your heart ache.

"What?" He asked with that wide smile of his. You'd been caught staring, red-handed.

"I, uh, I just don't know what to tell you."

You could see the subtle change of his grin, watch as it softened and his hand came to rest on your thigh. "Hey, it's gonna be fine! And if we run into them while out doing stuff, you can just avoid them or hide behind me!" At least hiding behind Eijiro is an easy thing to do, damn mountain of a man.

His thumb slowly brushed back and forth. "'S gonna be okay. I'll beat 'em up if they're assholes!"

You snickered at his Katsuki impression and let the drone of the radio fill the air around you both. Enjoying the silence the rest of the way to the hanger with Eijiro's hand atop your leg.

#mha #bnha #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #eijiro kirishima #kirishima smut #mha x reader #mha x y/n

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petersnya · 3 years

Text

SOMETIMES

PETER PARKER X FEM!READER

---NOT MY PHOTO/GIF---

PART ONE

Prompt/Summary: “...some people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes…” /// Peter Parker meets the love of his life. But is he the love of hers? Having a bad past always affects the future.

Warnings: ANGST, FLUFF, SMUT(light smut towards the end xxx tehe) ECT.

Word count: 3026

[A/N]Wattupp! So I have been busy with volleyball lately but I finally have the time to write! I got this idea while I was in class and it seemed like it would be perfect lol. I love Marvel so much like I grew up reading the comics so I’m excited to write this ( I'm in love with Peter Parker/Tom Holland too ). I'm thinking this should be a series??? Idk. Let me know what you think! ENJOY AND SHARE WITH YOUR FRIENDS!! Explicit content ahead…(this was also inspired by a song I love called moral of the story. tehe I love Niall Horan bruh)

-J.T.S xxx

“Sup Parker, ” a tall, curly-haired girl rushed through the front door of Peter Parker's apartment. “Aunt May here?” the girl questioned the brown-eyed boy who was frantically following the girl with his eyes from his seated position on the couch.

“No, uh, she's not. She's at work actually- wait what are you doing here MJ?” Peter questioned the girl, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. He stood from the couch, approaching the kitchen counter that MJ was standing behind, putting whatever she had run into the house with in the kitchen drawer.

“Uh, just… Hangin’ out, ” MJ explained, shrugging her shoulder as she hopped onto the counter facing Peter, swinging her legs with an innocent look on her face.

“Yeah sure, I'm not gonna believe tha -”

“MJ! The hell is wrong with you! Give them back you oversized giraffe!” a loud banging on the door caught MJ and Peter’s attention making them turn their heads towards it. MJ, not looking shocked at all, but Peter having a tariffed look on his face.

“We’re the same height dumbass!” MJ shouted back to the girl on the other side of the door with a smirk on her face. Peter was confused by the situation. Turning his head back at MJ, who was silently snickering, he questioned, “Who the hell is that?”, the tan girl, who was now standing next to him, made her way to open the door.

“MJ gets the fuck out here and give me my-” the mystery girl on the other side of the door was cut off by the door opening in her face. She stood there in shock, looking past MJ at the curly-haired boy standing next to her. Peter looked away from MJ then at the girl who was standing in the doorway. He couldn’t help but stare at her, taking in the beautiful sight in front of him. Peter was taken aback when suddenly, her lips curled into a wide smile. She pointed her finger at MJ, the at Peter, and back again. Peter had no idea what was going on until MJ’s smirk that she had faded off of her face.

“No. No, no, no, ” she said grabbing the girl's hand and pushing it down to her side.

“And who is this MJ?” she said slyly.

“This is…” MJ paused, glancing back at Peter then back to the girl at the door. “Penis Parker.” she then said with a slight chuckle.

“Hey! Wha- no! That’s not my name! MJ I swear to-“

“Your mom named you penis?” She said, raising an eyebrow in confusion. MJ laughed walking out of the door and next to the girl. “And this is my cousin, Y/N.”

“Sup man,” Y/N said to Peter with a big goofy grin on her face.

“Alright we’ll be leaving now,” MJ said grabbing her cousin’s hand, dragging her away from the door.

“Penis is kinda hot cuz. How have you not fu-“

“We’re leaving!” MJ shouted over Y/N, dragging her out of the way to where Peter couldn’t see them anymore, but just in Peter’s favor, he heard everything.

\\\

The next day, Peter was walking out of school with MJ and his best friend, Ned.

“So MJ, I heard you have a cousin. Y/N…” Ned said, leaning forward, looking across Peter to see MJ who was walking on the other side of him. Peter hit Ned on the shoulder with his, silently telling him to stop talking about it. MJ chuckle.

“Well uh, I gotta go. See you guys later! Good luck Pete.” Ned said with a wink as he walked towards the bus.

“Wait, Ned! We ride the bus- together… whatever.”

MJ and Peter walked down the stairs talking about all their classes, the teachers they hated, and other things. As they made their way to the sidewalk they heard someone yelling at them, causing both of them to turn their heads towards the loud voice.

“Ah. I forgot, Y/N’s picking me up today.”

“Y/N? Oh…” Peter said, trying to hide the blush on his face. Every time he thought about her, he couldn’t help but re-play the words she said yesterday: ...he’s kinda hot… Peters has never had that sort of attention given to him by a girl especially one that looked like Y/N. To him, she was an angel. But Peter, being the typical person he was, wouldn’t even think about approaching her- being afraid of rejection.

“How old is she?” Peter asked curiously, the thought lingering in his mind.

“Our age. She’s home-schooled.” the tall her said, stuffing her hands in the side pockets of her jacket. Peter looked at her curiously, if she’s home-schooled then why is she with MJ all the time now?

“Her uh, her dad just recently passed, due to health difficulties, so she and her mom moved down here to get a new start. While her mom is trying to get their new house and a stable job down in Queens she will be staying with me for about… a year I think. I, of course, let her stay with me. She’s my favorite cousin and I don’t want her to be alone during this ruff time.” she explained, practically reading Peter’s expression. He nodded in response, his eyes glued to his feet.

“MJ! MJ come on! Harry Potter re-run of the first two movies start in T-minus 10 minutes and I have to go pick up my new sweatshirt!” Y/N yelled from her car while honking the horn. The upper half of her body sticking out of the driver’s window while her forearms supported her on the roof of her car.

“Annnddd, she kinda a nerd, but she considers herself just ‘well educated’.” Peter chuckled as he looked at Y/N. Once they got to the car, MJ threw her backpack in the passenger window. Y/N slide back into her window, shoving the bag in the back. MJ then opened the car door and hopped in, clicking her seat belt. She waved bye to Peter.

“Bye Peter Parker.”

“Later MJ.”

“Oooh, so his name isn’t penis… I knew it! Peter, it’s cute. Sup Parker!”

Peter started to blush but it was hard to see from his face already red from the heat of the sun. He smiled and waved to her, noticing how her Y/E/C eyes glistened in the sun.

“H-hey, Y/N.” He said toying with the strap of his bag, his curls in his face.

“Heyyy! You should come watch the Harry Potter movies three and four with me and MJ Friday! You can even bring that one guy you guys are always talking to.” She said leaning on the steering wheel, looking at Peter through her long, mascara coated eyelashes.

“Sure I’d love to come… wait- do you have your driver's license?” the question lingered in Peter’s mind.

“Nope!” Y/N yelled as she sped away, the tires of the car screeching on the road. Peter could still hear their loud laughter of the two cousins as they drove away.

That night while Peter was patrolling as Spider-Man, he stopped and landed on the building next to MJ’s place. There was a window that was the only lit room. He thought it was MJ so he was going to go up and scare her, but once he got closer, he could see that it was Y/N. His heartbeat quickened as he watched her walk over to her bed, putting her hair in a ponytail. She was wearing an oversized black T-shirt. As she was putting her hair up, she stretched her arms causing her shirt to reveal her very small underwear. Peter could feel his suit beginning to get uncomfortable at the view in front of him.

Quickly, Peter swung away from the building making his way home before Y/N or anyone could see him.

He crawled back into his window making sure to stay quiet so that Aunt May wouldn’t hear. Once he had his suit off, he showed and got into bed. Peter couldn’t sleep that night. He couldn’t help but think about Y/N. She was tattooed in his brain and, of course, tattoos don’t go away.

///

The days went by slow, well, they went slow to Peter. He was overly excited to go to MJ’s place and watch a movie with Y/N. That was the only person on his mind, her. But those slow days soon went by and it was Friday afternoon. Peter was so anxious he practically ran home to put his school stuff away and then ran to MJ’s.

He approached the door to her place and knocked on the door with his fist. Peter whipped his sweaty palms on his flannel, waiting for the door to open.

“What up Pete! MJ said you would be here around this time. Come on in man.” Y/N said as she flung open the door with a soft smile on her face. Peter couldn’t get enough of her energetic personality. He followed Y/N, closing the door behind him. The brown-eyed boy couldn’t help but admire her as she walked in front of him. Her outfit consists of high-waisted but loose jeans, a plain black tube top with a very large flannel that was left unbuttoned.

“Uh, Michelle and your other friend… Ned! That’s his name, I can never remember,” she chuckled nervously, “they uh- went to the store to go get snacks and food so they should be back in a little while. I’m gonna go get some blankets and stuff from my room for the movies, there pretty long so I wanna be comfortable. Wanna help?” Y/N said as she started to walk towards her room, looking over her shoulder to see if Peter was following.

“Oh, yeah, sure I’ll help you,” he said, slowly trailing behind her. As they went into her room she started to grab blankets and pillows, tossing them by the door. Peter couldn’t help but admire her well-decorated room, it fits her personality so well, he thought to himself. He walked over to her tall nightstand and saw a pair of glasses sitting on them. For some reason, they intrigued him.

“Do you mind?” he asked. “Nah, not at all,” Y/N replied not looking up from the pile of blankets in the corner, waving her hand in a ‘go ahead’ motion. Peter shrugged and turned his attention back to the glasses. They were small and black, they didn’t look like they would fit her face. He picked them up, examining them curiously. Y/N looked over at Peter, immediately dropping everything in her hands and rushing over to him. She snatched the glasses out of his hand and put them in her drawer. Peter was taken aback by this sudden action, raising his hands in a surrendering motion.

“Don’t touch those,” Y/N said harshly. She looked at Peter’s face that was plastered with an apologetic look. “I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. My… my dad gave me those,” she explained. Peter mumbled an ‘it’s ok’ under his breath.

She walked over to the edge of her bed, scooting over to give Peter room to sit down. He took the hint and went to sit next to her. Y/N sat there, her leg bouncing as she tried to take steady breathes to calm herself down, fiddling with the many rings on her fingers.

“Hey, you ok Y/N?” Peter asked, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. She looked up at him with glossed-over eyes. She let out a shaky breath and nodded. Licking her lips, she began to explain.

“Well uh, m-my dad, he uh… he passed away about two weeks ago. When I was younger we used to always read together and I would have trouble saying some of the words. My mom thought it was just cause I couldn’t read properly yet but my dad always said ‘my little girl is the smarts little girl I know… she’s just as blind as a bat, like her father,’ Y/N paused, sniffing while wiping the tear that rolled down her cheek before continuing, “He bought me those glasses after the eye doctor told me my vision was terrible. The day before he passed away, he took the glasses off that he had and handed them to me. I tried to stop him and tell him that I had some, but all he did was look at my mom and then back at me and said, ‘she’s just as blind as a bat, like her father.’” the last part came out in a whisper.

Reaching over to her bedside table, Y/N grabbed a pair of circular glasses that looked like they were from the Harry Potter movie. “My dad loved Harry Potter, I never wear them though cause I-I’m just...scared. I don’t know why though. It’s just silly.” she said with a slight smile. “MJ took my contacts from me just a few days ago to get me to wear them and I still haven’t gotten them back.” so that’s why she came over that day, Peter wondered.

Peter was about to say something but MJ and Ned came into the apartment, yelling that they were back with the snacks and food.

“T-minus 10 minutes Y/N,” MJ yelled from the kitchen.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a second,” Y/N shouted back to her, “you should go ahead.”

Peter got up to leave the room, but before he did he turned to say something, “I think that your dad would want you to wear them, Y/N. Trust me,” he said with a soft smile that caused Y/N to smile back at him.

///

“Dude, where’s Y/N? She’s never late for an H.P movie,” MJ questioned. Peter and Ned looked at each other shrugging before looking back at her. Only two minutes later, Y/N came walking out of her room, they all turned their heads to look.

“Ok, I’m ready for the movie,” she said with a big goofy smile on her face. Peter and MJ looked at her in shock. Ned had no idea what was going on and just sat and ate popcorn. Y/N had on some shorts and a Slytherin sweatshirt, but that wasn’t the shocking part. She was wearing her dad’s glasses.

“What? Do you guys not like my sweatshirt?”

“I think it’s great,” Ned said giving her a thumbs up.

“Thanks, Ned, glad to see someone appreciates it,” Y/N said sarcastically. MJ and Peter looked at each other. Peter was about to say something but MJ put a finger up signaling for him not to. Y/N sat between MJ and Peter on the couch, grabbing a bag of chips while adjusting the glasses on her face. She looked over at Peter mouthing the word ‘thank you’ causing Peter to blush but hid it quickly.

About thirty minutes into the movie, Y/N got comfortable and snuggled her head into MJ’s shoulder while MJ laid her head onto of Y/N’s. Y/N had her exposed long, smooth legs draped over Peter’s thighs. This sent Peters mind wondering:

As she slowly straddled my lap, I placed my hands on her thighs, keeping her steady. My large hands squeezed at her exposed skin. I ran them to her ass, repeating the motion causing her to jerk, rubbing her core against jeans, making her moan quietly in my ear. Her arms hugged around my neck. She moved her head to where her lips were perfectly leveld with mine. She connected her lips with mine in a soft kiss, but I wanted more. I needed more. I ran my tongue over her bottom lips, squeezing her ass in my hand once again. Her lips were parted slightly, giving me access to slip my tongue into her mouth. She surprised me with her next move. She wrapped her lips around my tongue then released it with a slight smacking noise. This made me harder than I was before- if that was even possible. We sat there for a second, staring into each other’s eyes, noticing how they were filled with lust. Before I could even think my actions through, I removed my hand from her ass, grabbing her jaw and pulling her facing into mine, catching her lips and lustful but passionate kiss. My tongue almost immediately won the dominance against hers. I flipped us so that I was on top and started to trail kisses down her exposed stomach. Her thighs wrapped around my head as her back arched off of the bed. I put my hands on her lower back. I started to tease her soaked-

“I don’t see how you like Draco Malfoy?” Ned’s voice snapped Peter out of his daydream, turning his head over to Ned who was munching on a handful of popcorn.

“What!” MJ and Y/N screamed. Ned and Peter both turned their heads to them, wondering why they seemed so upset. “What do you mean why do we like Draco Malfoy,” MJ said.

“What type of question is that?” Y/N said, finishing her sentence. This caused MJ and Y/N to go into a whole ordeal on why Draco is their favorite character. All Peter could do was watch the way her pink lips moved as she explained.

This helped Peter calm down from his daydream and stoping his hard-on to be seen. Thank God…

///

That night, Peter laid awake in his bed, thinking about how Y/N looked in his fantasy. He wished that it was really like so so badly. He couldn’t help to feel this attraction towards her, from the first time he saw her. It wasn’t just her good looks, even though to Peter she was stunning, it was her style, her personality, the way her eyes squinted and her cheekbones rose when she laughed. The way she would ramble about anything and everything. His last thought before he drifted into sleep rang in his brain,

Does she feel the same?

[A/N] Hey bestie :))) hope you liked this chapter! Thank you for the support and make sure to send me ideas for imagines you guys want! IM GONNA TRY TO UPLOAD EVERY DAY OR EVERY OTHER DAY AT 5:30/6:30 PM.

DISCLAIMER!!! THE NEXT CHAPTER IS FULL OF SMUT.. are you ready?

-J.T.S xxx

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sonnetthebard · 3 years

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The Vampire Play Would Entail...

Okay, so yesterday I posted about some headcannons I have about Alice being Hidgens’ intern, and y’all seem to like it, so I present to you: more things that exist in my head! These are all just my ideas, and I hope you like them.

- Okay, so the first place to put on this play is probably some community theatre group- maybe the Starlight, but likely a smaller group that rents the stage space at Hatchetfield High.

- Alice would choose to be very, very involved in this production. She wouldn’t direct or anything, but she’d be at every single rehearsal.

- Alice would often describe the experience to her dad as “magical” because it was for her. Sometimes she’d have to leave the room and cry a little with pride.

- Alice was definitely involved in the casting process.

- And she found the PERFECT young aspiring actress to play the vampire girlfriend: Lex Foster.

- I kinda want to say Hatchetfield Bee plays the role of the main girl, but I mean we don’t know a ton about her.

- The company producing it accepts her happy ending rewrites.

- With Alice and Lex come a very excited Deb and Ethan.

- Deb actually applies and gets accepted to the props and costume teams.

- Ethan is just there as moral support for his girlfriend.

- Hannah is also at a lot of the rehearsals. She likes to sit with Alice and share ideas and thoughts with her.

- Alice absolutely hears those ideas outs, and even implements them sometimes.

- Lex is just thrilled to be there and start her acting resume before she gets to LA.

- Pamela straight up doesn’t give a shit where Lex or Hannah are so long as Lex is home before midnight and Hannah’s home before ten, so Lex doesn’t even bother to tell her she’s in a show.

- Based on what Nick has said about what Alice and Deb might think of Lex, I’m gonna say Alice and Lex don’t hit it right off, but Alice respects Lex’s take on the role. After a few weeks in rehearsals getting to know each other they start to get friendly and Lex lets her guard down.

- Bill stays away from the rehearsals for the most part so as not to bother Alice, but occasionally he’ll sneak in when he doesn’t think Alice will see him and watch bits and pieces and be proud.

- Alice knows he’s there, and it always makes her smile a little bit.

- Alice lives with her dad full time during rehearsals and performances, and she tells him about every one without him needing to ask.

- The show gets a two-week run, every night, with matinees on the weekend.

- Ethan, Hannah and Deb are in the audience and waiting for them after every show.

- Unlike Alice and Lex, Ethan and Deb are fast friends, so they sit together. Look, I kinda headcannon Ethan and Deb as cousins because they have all the same vibes, but for the purposes of this lets assume they aren’t. They both just have a mad amount of respect for each other and how cool they both are.

- Deb also gets along really well with Hannah.

- In fact, by the end of rehearsals she considers Deb an honorary big sister in the same way Ethan is her honorary big brother. And, of course, Alice is one too.

- Hidgens is there opening night (and several times after ) and particularly likes the performances of both leading actresses, but especially Lex. He keeps her on the radar for some of his projects, just in case she can sing too.

- Bill is there most nights as well. He brings just about everyone he knows.

- We’re talking like this is date night with Sylvia, boys night with Ted... he even drags Paul and Emma along for a date.

- Paul really likes it- especially since there’s no music. Just acting. This makes Alice’s night.

- The play is really, really well recieved in general.

- In fact, the exposure Alice gets from that productions opens doors for her to present the work in a few high profile festivals.

- All in all, it’s just a really great experience.

Feel free to reblog and add things but yeah... this is just a bit of wholesomeness I love to think about!

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sagemusesoutloud · 3 years

Text

Anti-Romantic, Part 4

(credit to the original owner of the image)

Character | Jaehyun x reader

Genre | nonidol!au, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Fluff, Angst

WordCount | 1.5 k

WARNING | Mentions of verbally abusing relationships! It's brief, but there. If you or anyone is going through something similar, please seek outside help!

Author'sNote | I'm not giving excuses as to why it took so long to update, but I'm trying my hardest to be consistent! Let me know if you like how the story is going so far!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5

Sorry I’m an anti-romantic, I don’t believe in romantic

I am afraid that it will burn my whole heart, It will only leave behind ashes.

When you were younger, your family used to call you ‘spitfire.’ They said you were too fiery, argued too well, and too passionate. They had never meant it as an insult, in a way, it was a form of flattery. You grew up as the only female cousin in your family, but you were always leading your cousins on whatever diabolical plan it was that you had come up with: sneaking off to kitchen in the middle of the night to eat all the pastries meant for the morning after, convincing everyone that leaving your grandma’s territory and into the forest in the middle of the night to see if you can find the fairies, racing along the town’s border to see who was the fastest on their bike, and many other child-like plans. You were tough and you were proud, you never allowed yourself to lose.

Later on in life, that same nickname evolved to a less loving version. As you grew older and started to date, your partners always called you out for having strong opinions and for not bending at their will. They never saw you for what you wanted to be; which was an equal. If they said something against one of your friends, they expected you to throw away the friendship. All because they were the opposite sex and made your partner insecure. How could a girl and boy only be friends? Later on, when rumors would spread about your partner and other girls, they would get exasperated with you. If they’d get caught, they would only blame you for being too stiff.

“Why couldn’t you be more passive? If I want to kiss you, I’ll kiss you. You’re my girlfriend, why the fuck would I need permission? Is that what your ‘guy friends’ do? I bet you’ve let them all have a run at you, huh? Keep acting like a bitch, get treated like a bitch. And you wonder why I cheated? What a joke.”

You had to admit, you didn’t really date the greatest of guys. But you could say that now, because you knew now. Back then, you really thought you deserved those kinds of relationships. Like how they say, you only accept the love you think you deserve. However, in a way, it was why you were the way you were now. You always made it a point to communicate and avoid misunderstandings because you didn’t want your partners to throw your words back at you or your actions. It’s why you treaded carefully and avoided one-night stands. You’d rather get to know a person first and then start dating. It’s the exact reason the date you had with that other barista didn’t go through, majority of the guys you talked to thought you were too much work and therefore, not worth it.

Now that you’re an adult, you’d rather be too much work than let a guy walk all over you. Boundaries were important to you because how else were you supposed to gauge their respect for you? You had a tight grip on your morals and rules.

But damn, you’re only human!

The moment your lips crashed, it’s as if the only thing you could keep in mind was one word.

More.

You needed more of him, needed to breathe the same air as him, needed to feel every ridge of his hard body against your soft one, needed to cling to him as close as possible and for as long as possible.It’s as if his lips were the only reason you needed to dive into whatever this was. You were tired of keeping a strong hold on yourself. All that boiling anger turning into dangerous tension, and the only way to release it was to give into the passion between you two.

You settled your arms around his neck, taking that last step closer into him as he cradled your face and deepened the kiss. His other arm wound tightly around you, hand sliding dangerously close to your ass. You feel a deep groan against your chest, one of your hands wandering down his torso, enjoying the shiver you feel as you move lower. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, a question, so you reply by opening your mouth, tongues fighting for dominance. For every move you delivered, he retaliates just as ardently. You feel your head grow lightheaded as you bring your hands to hold on to his shirt, anything to stabilize you. His hand finally squeezing your ass, shifting you closer to his hips. Oh, lord.

You let out a moan as he bites your lower lip, his kisses descending as you fight to catch your breath. You involuntary let out a whimper as he finds your pulse point and sucks the skin, soothing it with light kisses. Leaving behind a trail of purple blotches, beautifully contrasted against your skin. You’d never been into marking, had it always felt this good?

“Jae…” you can’t think, you can’t even stand properly as he pushes you with his hips against the counter for support. You don’t even know what you wanted to say, do you want to ask for more? What do you want?

“God, I’ve wanted to do this for years.” You pause at that, your hands freezing on their tight grip on his shirt. You feel as if someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water at you, your rationality finally catching up with you.

He leans back to look at you, “if you’re going to stop me, do it now because if you don’t say anything I’ll keep going. And I don’t think I can stop on my own.” His hands drawing gentle, tantalizing circles along your hips where your shirt had ridden up.

You gasp at that; finally bring your eyes to his. He looked exactly how you felt, desperate. His lips were red and puffy from your kisses, his hair messy after running your hands through it. In the light of the kitchen, you could still see how his pupils were blown wide. You’re pretty sure you’re not in any better condition.

“Jae,” you whisper, brining your hands to his shoulders, either to support yourself or to brace yourself for what you were about to say, “if we do this, there’s no going back.”

He lets out a deep breath, “I know, and I’m ok with that.” He offers a gentle smile, “I want that.” His heart drops as he notices how you drop your gaze and bite your lips.

“if we do this, can you guarantee that it won’t ruin our friendship?” for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to speak higher than a whisper or to look at him. “can you promise that you won’t run away again?”

You wait for his response. When it doesn’t come you finally look up, only to find a frown forming on his brow. You don’t expect when he takes a step back, “is that all I am to you? All this is? Just a risk you’re not willing to take just because you don’t want to ruin the ‘friendship’?”

“I don’t know…Am I supposed to forget what you just said a few minutes ago?” He gives a humorless laugh as he paces around the small kitchen.

You’re frozen in place, spaced out at his words. It’s like as if you’re watching yourself from somewhere else. But you think about it, is that what it is?

Before you can respond or come to a conclusion, he stops at the entrance to the kitchen, back towards you. “Are you really not understanding what I’m saying or are you avoiding it?” his shoulders sag but he keeps going, “If loosing me is what you’re so worried about, then let me make it simple for you.”

Your body grows number by the second, what’s wrong with you? You’ve finally done it, burned away the last semblance of security and friendship. Just like a thoughtless spitfire.

“I can’t go back to this back and forth bullshit. I’m tired. I don’t think you even know what you want, so until you do, I think I need my space.”

He motions towards his front door, “I’m gonna go, if you’re still here by the time I come back, I’ll take it as a sign that you do want us…to happen. If you leave, I’ll pretend the last two days didn’t happen and we can go back to how we used to be. I’ll never cross the line again, and I’ll do everything to move on.”

You only notice you’re sobbing when you tears blur your vision. What have you done?

You don’t even hear him leave, only when the door slams after him.

I can clearly see the end, Worse than a hangover

It will be hard, Now, Just end it somewhere here

EndNote | Damn, I've never written a kiss scene before. Hopefully it wasn't too awkward. This is a lot of angst too, which I'm not a big fan of reading, but wow... who hurt me lmao. Promise the next chapter won't be as bad, or will it?

Previous: Part 3 | Next: Part 4.5

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redladydeath · 3 years

Text

jhgfdfghjkhgf i was going to just post this in the video’s comment section but for some reason that’s not working so here’re act one of the william and mary play:

Mary: Look, you’re my best friend, okay? And, um, best friends tell each other everything, right? Oh my god. Excuse me. Oh, Maria Regina, it was awful! He was awful, William, my Dutch cousin, or as father likes to call him “the Dutch Dog” *laughs*… I had the honor of being forced to dine with the extended family. My little Dutch cousin William– and was he rude! Oh my god. He spent the entire meal either staring at me or grimacing at the food. No manners. And he’s old too, like, at least thirty, not that you’d know by looking at him, he’s very short, but old enough to know better, and all that I could hear the entire time was his breathing– no, no, no– wheezing, with his tiny little child-sized mouth. *imitates wheezing* [indecipherable] –cause he had [indecipherable] big monster of a nose to use, but I guess that was out of commission. And King Charles II– God save him– and all twelve of his spaniels, seated at the table, eating off of the plates– how am I related to these people?

Anne: Mary!

Mary: Shh! Shh! My sister! We’re fighting! Oh god. Uncle Charles– God save him– William... ew. I’ve never fit in with this entire family and now I find out that my sister’s been ta… my sister– No, no I will not stand here and idly gossip. My sister– no. Sh– no. Sh– no. Sh– nope! Betty!

Betty: Yes, your ladyship?

Mary: Um, take Maria Regina will you?

Betty: Yes, your ladyship. Anne has been screaming for you, your ladyship.

Mary: Yes, tell her I’m dead.

Betty: Yes, your ladyship.

Mary: No, don’t, that’ll get her hopes up. Tell her that I’m resting– exhausted from a fascinating dinner with our exotic Dutch cousin.

Betty: Yes, your ladyship.

Mary: And I can trust you all? Oh, um, and would you bring me an ink, pen, and paper?

Betty: Yes, your ladyship.

Mary: How’s this? Dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear... girlfriend– no, no, no... lover– no, too saucy– um... husband? Yeah… it’s a woman, but we’re gonna call her a husband. Don’t get confused! Um, dearest husband, after my prayers to all-mighty God, I’ve come to make peace with you, for it is a strange thing for a man and a wife to quarrel. What more can I say to prove that I love with more zeal than any lover can? You are loved with a love never known by man–

Anne: Mary!

Mary: You are loved more than can be expressed–

Anne: Mary!

Mary: By your ever-obedient–

Anne: Mary!

Mary: SHUT UP!! –wife. But to my great sorrow, I find out that you’ve been corresponding with *whispered* my sister!

Anne: Mary!

Mary: Shut up! Oh, to be your humble servant! To kiss the ground where you go–

Anne: What are you doing?!

Mary: Shut up! Oh, to be your dog on a string, your fish in a net, your limber trout–

Anne: She writes me too, you know!

Mary: No, she doesn’t!

Anne: Yes, she does!

Mary: Shut up! [indecipherable] If my letter has made the effect, dear “husband”, on your hard ear, I may without scruple call you my dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear husband.

Anne: She is not your husband and your letter to her are weird. Also, she sends me letters and calls me her husband and loves me more than she loves you and you’re a lesbian!

Mary: That word doesn’t even exist yet, Anne!

Anne: Lesbian!

Mary: Keep your voice down!

Anne: She writes me more letters.

Mary: Our love is forbidden.

Anne: Get over yourself!

Mary: She knows unlike you I’ll be queen!

Anne: Whatever. I don’t care. I don’t even want to be queen.

Mary: Oh, good, cause you never will be.

Anne: Of course I will! When your head gets so damned big from all the bullshit praise, even your ugly, masculine, lesbian neck won’t be able to support its weight. Snap! And your head will fall off, like our poor headless grandpa Charles–

Mary and Anne: God save him!

Mary: To imagine the death of a monarch is treason, I could look you in the Tower.

Anne: You couldn’t!

Mary: When I’m queen.

Anne: You wouldn’t!

Mary: I could!

Anne: Nu-uh!

Mary: Uh-huh!

Anne: You wouldn’t be the first queen to do that to a little sister.

Mary: Well, you came in here and started it.

Anne: I know. I have something to tell you.

Mary: You could’ve waited!

Anne: I have a memory. About mummy.

Mary: Did you? Really? Would you tell me?

Anne: When we knew she wouldn’t make it much longer, she asked me to come to her bedside. She had just got her blood let, so she was speaking very openly.

Mary: It’s okay, Anne!

Anne: She asked me “Do you know why I named your older sister Mary but named you after me?”

Mary: Why?

Anne: Mummy said… “Because prefer you to that bitch older sister!”

Mary: Leave!

Anne: Mom liked me more!

Mary: I was named after a queen!

Anne: Yeah, Bloody Mary! “Oh, look at me! I’m named after a fat, bloated Tudor Catholic!”

Mary and Anne: *spit*

Mary: Leave!

Anne: I just came in here to ask how dinner went.

Mary: It was lovely. Leave!

Anne: Was it? I bet it was boring.

Mary: Only for a child but when you’re fifteen years old you appreciate stimulating conversation!

Anne: [indecipherable]

Mary: Good!

Anne: Was he… stimulating?

Mary: Ew! I mean… yes.

Anne: What was he like?

Mary: Tall, dark, handsome.

Anne: Really? Tall, dark, and handsome?

Mary: Mmyeah.

Anne: I’m jealous.

Mary: You should be.

Anne: Did he stare at you?

Mary: What? No.

Anne: I guess he wouldn’t. Not after what I have heard.

Mary: Oh, I don’t even want to hear your idle gossip– what did you hear?

Anne: Oh, it’s just that father told me that Uncle Charles–

Mary and Anne: God save him!

Anne: –Tried to marry you off to him.

Mary: What?

Anne: For some Dutch alliance.

Mary: What?

Anne: Yeah. He turned you down though.

Mary: He turned me down?

Anne: Three times.

Mary: What?

Anne: And here I was going to come in and make fun of you! I thought William was a tiny little goblin man. That would’ve been so embarrassing!

Mary: Right…

Anne: If you were turned down by an ugly little goblin man.

Mary: Right…

Anne: Three times!

Mary: Leave!

Anne: Why?

Mary: Leave!

Anne: I thought he was stimulating!

Mary: I want to be alone!

Anne: Mary the Martyr, you’re so weird! Maybe you’ll actually fit in if you didn’t lock yourself in your room all the time writing creepy letters. Some queen you’ll be! You’re friends with a fish!

Mary: Well, I will be queen whether I want to or not!

Anne: Mary the Martyr, you’re engaged to Louis the fucking XIV, what right do you have to be mad at me?

Mary: ...Have you seen the latest portrait of Louis?

Anne: Yeah!

Mary and Anne: *squee*

Anne: He’s fucking gorgeous! Even for a Catholic!

Mary and Anne: *spit*

Anne: Milky skin, so fucking rich! Full deep eyes, tight little French ass…

Mary: Anne! God is listening!

Anne: [indecipherable] I’m just appreciating the work! Those portraits are rarely accurate though. You saw the portrait of Uncle Charles–

Mary and Anne: God save him!

Anne: –He looked like a Roman god dipped in oil.

Mary: What?

Anne: He glistened Mary! Like a buttered up Roman statue! In reality, he looks more like butter. Well… butter with syphilis.

Mary: Oh my god, you can be quite cruel Anne.

Anne: I’m destined to marry one of our fat, inbred cousins, so I’m allowed to be.

Mary: Sorry.

Anne: Yeah, it’s whatever. Well, I’m going! Unlike you I actually have friends to hang out with.

Mary: Oh, bad company ruins good morals.

Anne: Fuck you! See you at dinner.

Mary: That’s why that little Dutch dwarf was staring at me. Oh my God, could you imagine that tiny, wheezing little man crawling into your bed every night– oh my god, it’s an offensive thought! But the most offensive part? He said no! He said no to me! Oh my God, the man is a slug! William of Orange– blegh! And Uncle Charles– God save him– tried to make me marry that, not that I would’ve! No! I would’ve told him off, right to his face. I’m not afraid of him! I will not be made a sacrificial lamb. I would’ve told him off to his face! Right to his tiny, regal, little mustache: “No, Uncle! You may be king, but I will not marry that creature! Put me in chains; lock me in the Tower; feed me to the ghost of Cromwell; I absolutely refuse to marry that creature!” I would’ve told him off. I will not be made a sacrificial lamb!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, Jesus Christ.

Betty: Your uncle, King Charles II– God save him– is here your ladyship.

Mary: Okay, send him in.

Betty: Yes, your ladyship.

*dogs yapping*

Charles: Quiet, quiet, quiet! [indecipherable] Good doggy-woggys! Now, niece!

Mary: Oh, Uncle, God save you–

Charles: Rise dear! You’re one of the few girls at court I’d rather not see on her knees.

Mary: Oh– ew.

Charles: Oyster?

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty! *grunting*

Charles: I’ve just come from your mother and father’s apartments.

Mary: She’s not my mother.

Charles: Charming lady, your new mummy. She’s got those bovine hips, so I assume she’ll be plopping out heirs as soon as James’ dousing rod directs her away from foreign [indecipherable].

Mary: Oh my God.

Charles: Oyster?

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty! *grunting*

Charles: If God is good– and we know he is– she’ll give birth to a few boys before she’s spent. Women are quite fragile, as you know Mary. It’s especially hard with our good Stuart stock and– Oh, Dicky, no, no hump, no hump, daddy has a [indecipherable]. Might we can hope for a few younger brothers– you’d like that, wouldn’t you Mary?

Mary: Oh, yes, dear uncle. How I love being an older sister to our dear, simple Anne and how I’d revel in the opportunity to be an older sister again.

Charles: Oyster?

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty! *grunting*

Charles: [indecipherable] England [indecipherable] worry that another woman would take the throne.

Mary: Yes, poor England.

Charles: Yes.

Mary: Ah, ah, ah, ah!

Charles: Dicky! If that heifer can squeeze out just one little boy, England is saved! Oh, Mary, you see it’s not that women shouldn’t be involved in politics, it’s that they can’t. Their brains aren’t built for it! I don’t even know if you can comprehend what I’m saying to you right now!

Mary: I’m lost.

Charles: Yes, I assumed so. Oyster?

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty! *grunting*

Charles: *chocking, spits* [indecipherable] Go on, up! [indecipherable] Now, where were we? Yes– women are not fit to rule.

Mary: Sorry, once more.

Charles: I am king.

Mary: You are king.

Charles: I am a great king.

Mary: You are a great king.

Charles: Women… cannot be kings.

Mary: No, they’re queens.

Charles: …Very good Mary! I’m very proud. That’s a real thought you just had!

Mary: I’m lost again.

Charles: So, if I am king and women…?

Mary: Can’t be kings.

Charles: Then women…?

Mary: Can’t be great kings?

Charles: Exactly! I am very impressed with your understanding of Restoration politics. As king, I’ve found it requires tremendous subtlety. OW! Dicky, get off! Dicky, don’t let–! God, you bastard! Bite that hand that feeds you, ey? Groom of the Stool!

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty?

Charles: Lock him in the Tower!

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty.

Charles: You made a big mistake, Dicky! No [indecipherable] bites a sovereign.

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty!

Charles: Now, let us break our conversation into greater areas regarding your sex.

Mary: Ah, like needle crappy gossip.

Charles: And… boys.

Mary: Ah, yes, boys.

Charles: And… marriage.

Mary: Ah, yes, my purpose in life.

Charles: You a beautiful Stuart girl– Protestant– a large Protestant wedding to a regal, Protestant husband.

Mary: No, ha, Louis’ Catholic.

Charles: Louis? Yes, he’s Catholic.

Mary: Right, but you just said–

Charles: You, a beautiful Stuart girl–

Mary: Oh no!

Charles: A large Protestant wedding–

Mary: Oh, god!

Charles: To a regal–

Mary: No!

Charles: Protestant...

Mary: Please!

Charles: Did you enjoy dinner last night? You [indecipherable] to impressed your cousin.

Mary: No.

Charles: William! Were you taken by him, Mary?

Mary: *bahing*

Charles: He was very taken by you.

Mary: *bahing*

Charles: Your first cousin, so you’ll have a lot in common!

Mary: *bahing*

Charles: My dead sister’s boy! She was a real bitch.

Mary: *bahing*

Charles: And you’ll have the line of succession, so you won’t have to worry about being queen, Mary. William can handle it. Sorry he’s such a cold, ugly bastard.

Mary: *spluttering*

Charles: Your Catholic father *spits* is pissed. Not surprising, but I ordered him to shut the fuck up about it. The wedding is next week. La~!

Mary: Wait! Anne!

Charles: Oh, you’re too thoughtful, dear girl! Anne will be fine on her own.

Mary: No, no, no, marry Anne off to William!

Charles: Certainly not! You’re next in line after your idiot father. We’ll marry Anne off to one of the fat, inbred cousins.

Mary: But I learned French!

Charles: And now you’ll get to learn Dutch! It’s not a beautiful language, but it matches the people. The king exits!

Mary: *sobbing*

*church music / exert of “Aria” by Marco Rosano*

Priest: Gathered! His Royal Highness Charles II!

Ensemble: GOD SAVE HIM!

Priest: The bride’s father James (the eventual second)– what? Your father refused to attend!

Mary: *sobbing*

Priest: We are gathered today in the eyes of our Protestant God to witness the eternal joining of two people, and more importantly, two nations. Our beloved England and our at-least-for-the-time-being-not-enemy Holland.

*fanfare*

Priest: The Dutch Stand Stadtholder! ...William? ...The Prince of Orange!

William: *violent coughing*

Priest: William? You good?

William: Ja.

Priest: Do you need a minute?

William: [indecipherable]

Priest: Okay! So… the, uh… the Dutch Stadtholder! The Prince of Orang– William?

William: *violent coughing* [indecipherable]

Priest: We are gathered– we are– we’re gathered– we are gathered– gathered– and we are gathered–

William: [Dutch word]

Priest: Pardon?

William: [Dutch word]

Priest: Sorry, I–

William: [Dutch word], stepping [Dutch word].

Priest: Oh, yes. *groaning* NOW! We are gathered for the joining of two people, two nations, and one [indecipherable] faith. Do you, Mary, take a solemn vow to obey and honor William until you’re parted by death? Okay, good. Do you, William, take a solemn vow to take Mary as your bride and treat her with whatever respect you happen to feel like showing her? Alright, whoo! You’re all good in here. You may kiss the bride.

William: *violent coughing*

*retro dance music* / exert of “Oh! Oh! I'm Goin' Home” by The Peppers

Mary: Wow. Midnight. Where did the time go?

William: Time for bed.

Mary: Right. Yup. Time for bed. It’s late and… it’s late and… it’s late and… it’s time for bed and there’s the bed, it’s time for bed and… we’re married now.

Charles: Now, nephew! To your purpose! God save Saint George and England! *giggling*

Mary: Right, historically, um, all of that actually happened. Well– oh, sorry, I was talking to someone else. Well, I guess it’s late, right? It’s late and it’s, um, time to go do– time to do– time to go do do do do do do do do doing of it. Ah! Wow. A ring… Is it for me? …Should I take it? …I’ll take it. Wow… a ruby… yes, ruby– rubies are very– rubies are red! Red. Rubies are… pink actually, now that I look at it. Funny, they’re really much more pink. Everyone always says “ruby red” but they’re much more pink when you look at it, oh look at that, it’s–

William: My mother’s.

Mary: Your mother’s? Wow. Beautiful. Ring. That was your mother’s. Ring, ruby, ring, ruby, ring–

William: She’s dead.

Mary: What? Oh, I’m sorry. About that– that she’s dead. What happened? Sorry! No, none of my business. Poor Mum! Um, my mom is dead. Died when I was a child so… I know what it’s like. To have a dead mum. *awkward laughter*

William: You don’t have to smile for me. You don’t have to pretend.

Mary: Dearest dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear husband– this is the woman again, um... You’ll find a pair of horns on your front door for… it appears I’ve taken another husband. Hm…

*whistle*

Anne: I brought you a going-away present. It’s another goldfish.

Mary: Thank you, sister.

Anne: I knew you already that one, so you’d like it. I hope they don’t eat each other. Do goldfish eat each other? Is it a long trip to Holland?

Mary: I don’t know!

Anne: You seem glum. Story time! When Aunt Catherine–

Mary and Anne: God save her!

Anne: Married Uncle Charlie–

Mary and Anne: God save him!

Anne: She had to leave Portugal in order to marry him. She hadn’t even met him yet, so I guess it could be worse.

Mary: Yes, but she came to England, I’m leaving it!

Anne: Yeah, fair. Just trying to help.

Mary: I don’t need your help, dear sister, this is my cross to bear.

Anne: Saint Mary the Martyr of English diplomacy! If only you were Catholic.

Mary and Anne: *spit*

*whistle*

Mary: I’ve never left London, that’s what scares me the most. God be with thee, sister. God be with thee, England.

William: …Two.

Mary: Oh. Yes, Anne got me one as a going-away pr– okay.

Anne: I hate him.

Mary: Well, he’s your brother now.

Anne: Please, I hated him when he was my cousin. I think you should be the first Protestant saint just for sleeping with him. I can’t even imagine!

Mary: …Neither can I.

Anne: WHAT?! TELL ME EVERYTHING!!

Mary: Well, considering we haven’t, that’s everything to tell!

Anne: Oh my God! You’ve been married a week!

Mary: This stays between you and me, Anne!

Anne: Oh, but Mary, I have to tell my friends!

Mary: I don’t like your friends!

Anne: Fuck you! The court would die if they knew!

Mary: No!

Anne: But Mary, you can’t tell something this juicy and force me to hold it inside!

Mary: Shh!

Anne: But it’s not you Mary, it’s him. That puny prig.

Mary: No.

Anne: But you don’t even like him!

Mary: What wife likes her husband?

Anne: He’s so gross and I used to think you were gross, but he’s like, super gross. Oh thank God you’re not screwing! Your kids would be so gro– I didn’t realize Papa hadn’t told you the truth about him!

Mary: Oh, what did father say?

Anne: He buggers boys. Said he buggers boys. Said if he takes the throne, England gets two queens.

Mary: …I’ll have nothing to do with silly, irreverent myths, Anne… And tell my other husband I’ll send her the new address.

Anne: Gross! [indecipherable] each other!

*Dutch folk music* / exert of “Klompe Dans” by Camerata Trajectina

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Oh, yes, thank you.

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Ah, yes, thank you.

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Thank you.

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, good day William!

Citizens: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Life in Holland. It’s beautiful. It’s very, very clean.

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Betty: Your ladyship?

Citizens: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Thank you! Please keep talking, Betty.

Betty: Your ladyship–

Citizens: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Anything in English– thank you!

Betty: *whispers*

Mary: Dank u.

Citizens: Ooo!

*fanfare*

Betty: Supper time!

Mary: I’m not hungry.

Betty: Not you, your ladyship.

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland…

Mary: …Dank u.

Citizens: Ooo!

Mary: I must grin when my heart is fit to break, I must speak when my heart is so oppressed I can scarcely breathe.

Betty: Oh, that’s real pretty. The Bastard, your ladyship.

Mary: The Bastard?

Betty: Your half-cousin, King Charles II– God Save Him–’s bastard son, your ladyship.

Mary: Here?

Betty: Uh-huh.

Mary: Whoo!

Monmouth: Cousin!

William: Let me not interrupt your reunion. Continue this.

Mary: How’s home?

Monmouth: England is good! The family not so much. My father, Charles II–

Mary and Monmouth: God save him!

Monmouth: –seems ill. Parliament hates your father, James (the eventual second) since he’s decided to be Catholic–

Mary and Monmouth: *spit*

Monmouth: –since we just had nine years of civil war, ugh! People would rather avoid any foreseeable royalist drama, so Parliament wrote the Exclusion Act to keep your father off the throne.

Mary: Oh no!

Monmouth: No! Charles II–

Mary and Monmouth: God save him!

Monmouth: –refused to sign it.

Mary: Oh, good.

Monmouth: No! That’s why [indecipherable] is shit! Charles II–

Mary and Monmouth: God save him!

Monmouth: –dissolved Parliament, hoping to form a more moderate one.

Mary: Oh, good!

Monmouth: No! Bad! A group of Protestants then tried to blow up my papa Charlie–

Mary and Monmouth: God save him!

Monmouth: –on his way back from a race to [indecipherable]!

Mary: Oh no!

Monmouth: Oh yes!

Monmouth: –[indecipherable] watching the race, ALL OF NEWMARKET CAUGHT ON FIRE!!

Mary: Oh no!

Monmouth: No, that’s good! Charles’– God save him– house in Newmarket was destroyed, so they had to leave the race early, thus foiling the plot to kill him!

Mary: Oh, God is very generous to our family. And how’s Anne?

Monmouth: Married.

Mary: Oh, to one of the inbred cousins?

Monmouth: We’re royal! Inbred cousins are the only dignified option! How’s life in the Dutch court?

Mary: Um… clean, it’s very, very clean.

Monmouth: Ah, thank God you have William.

Mary: *hysterical laughter* ...Yes. No, I do see William from time to time. He likes to walk from stage left to stage right to stage right to stage left.

Monmouth: Incredibly generous man– looking forward to our dinner tonight! He invited me to hunt tomorrow and all the rest of next week! Very charming!

Mary: You’ve only been onstage for a minute and a half!

Betty: There are more officials for you to meet, your ladyship.

Monmouth: See you around, cuz. Ch-cha! …Ch-cha!

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Dank u.

Citizens: Ooo!

William: …Welkom in Nederland! *laughter, interrupted by violent coughing*

*fanfare*

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Betty: Alright! Her ladyship has another engagement she must prepare for, so sorry!

Mary: Ugh, what’s next Betty?

Betty: Nothing, your ladyship. I just think you’ve been gawked at enough today.

Mary: Oh, thank you Betty!

Betty: What’s a lady-in-waiting for?

Mary: But I’m afraid William might be cross once he finds out I didn’t finish all the state greetings. I guess I’d actually have to spend time with him for him to be cross with me.

Betty: He’s not one to get cross about things; he’s quite charming actually if you get past the hermetic silence.

Mary: I suppose he prefers the company of *whispered* his men?

*fanfare*

William and Monmouth: *laughing*

William: *starts coughing violently*

Monmouth: I love this guy!

*fanfare*

Betty: You’ve heard that already, have you?

Mary: Is it true?

Betty: Rumors, your ladyship. I also heard rumors of a girl who wrote letters to a woman she called her husband. And I now know a woman who still writes these letters!

Mary: Dismissed!

Betty: Your ladyship.

Mary: Wait. Put the children to bed, will you? Wait– wait, wait wait– just [indecipherable]. Don’t judge me! Dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear– stop!– husband… Let me start again: Dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear husband: You’ve not responded to any of my letter as of late!

Anne: Dearest sister!

Mary: Oh good God, Anne! Still able to interrupt me from across the English Chanel!

Anne: It is with good nice that I write. Since we last spoke… I’m pregnant!

Mary and Anne: *squeeing*

Anne: I know! I know! I fucking know! Ah, someone has to produce some heirs in this family!

Mary: Hey…

Anne: What have you been up to? Oh! My friends are here! Thank you, sis!

Mary: Anne is pregnant. My younger sister is pregnant …I’m jealous! Ugh!

*fanfare*

William and Monmouth: To hunt!

Monmouth: ♪ I’ll sing you eight, O! ♪

William and Monmouth: ♪ Green grow the rushes, O! ♪

William: ♪ What are your eight, O? ♪

Monmouth: ♪ Eight for the April Rainers! ♪

William: ♪ Seven for the seven stars in the sky! ♪

William and Monmouth: ♪ Six for the six proud walkers! ♪ Five for the symbols at your door! ♪ Four for the Gospel makers! ♪ THREE, THREE THE RIVALS! ♪ Two, two the lily-white boys! ♪ Clothed all in green, O! ♪ One is one and all alone! ♪ And evermore shall be so! ♪

*fanfare*

Mary: Betty!

Betty: *imitating the song*

Mary: Stop!

Betty: Oh! Yes, your ladyship.

Mary: My cousin, the Bastard, and Prince William have been spending an awful lot of time together!

Betty: William loves the hunt.

Mary: How do you know?!

Betty: He told me!

Mary: You’ve spoken with him? Am I the only person in the entire world who’s not had a single conversation with my husband?!

Betty: You just need to catch him in the right mood.

*fanfare*

Mary: Dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear– Oh my God, you’re pathetic! Two husbands and neither one replies!

Anne: Okay, so I wasn’t pregnant. Well, I was, but I’m not anymore.

Mary: Oh… Anne I’m so sorry!

Anne: I know. But I will be again. Maybe tonight! God be with me!

Mary: I don’t have to be Mary the Martyr. I can fix him. I can make it work. It’s a job, right? I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I’m just doing my job!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, William! Um, I was wondering–

William: Nothing!

Monmouth: The hunt did not go well!

William: Ugh!

Anne: Yup, pregnant!

Mary: Again? Wow!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, William! I’d love to talk with you!

William: …but–but–but we’re going to the hunt?

Mary: Yes, but I’d really like to talk with you.

William: …Okay?

Mary: In private.

William: Um… After the hunt?

Mary: Yeah, okay, sure.

*fanfare*

Anne: Okay, that pregnancy wasn’t meant to be, but tonight, THIS IS THE ONE!

Mary: Tonight, this is the one!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, William! I’m so looking forward to our evening!

William: Not in the mood!

Monmouth: The stag got away!

*fanfare*

Mary: The stag got away…

Anne: Pregnant!

Mary: Ugh!

*fanfare*

Mary: William, wait! Tonight?

William: Eh!

Mary: Wait! Here, for good luck!

Monmouth: *retching*

*fanfare*

Mary: Tonight! Tonight!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, husband! How was the hunt?

William: I got the stag!

Mary: Oh, you must be very merry!

William: I… uh… I’m exhausted. Ugh…

Monmouth: Come on. Shake it off.

William: *violent coughing*

*fanfare*

Mary: I will force myself to love this creature.

*fanfare*

Mary: *screams* ...Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! It must have been a chill!

William: [indecipherable]!

Mary: Oh, oh no! Oh no! Oh, my slipper! Oh, I–I’m so sorry to, uh, keep you from you duties!

William: I’ve been meaning to schedule a time for our talk.

Mary: Oh, you remembered?

William: What was the subject?

Mary: Us. You and me. Us and our… duties.

William: Ah. Our political duties are not as rulers, but as first citizens. Stadtholder means “the first citizen.” It is very different from life in England. For example, no Dutch citizen kisses my hand. In the Netherlands, we are all equals. Calvinists, Protestants, Jews– even the Jews Mary. [indecipherable] Do you like Holland?

Mary: Oh, it’s very, very clean. I’m not, um… I’m not sure if I’m fitting in.

William: Well, I don’t fit in and I was born here.

Mary: I feel the same way about my family.

William: Our family.

Mary: You’re very close to the Bastard, you know. Hunting and… actually talking and I was thinking, now that we’re actually talking, Anne is pregnant… again.

William: Ja? ...Yes? …This life is not the life you wanted, is that a true thing I just said? Bastard! Where is [indecipherable]?!

Monmouth: *whispers*

William: Your uncle, Charles II–

Mary: God save him!

William: –he’s dead.

Charles: …Oh.

Anne: I had a miscarriage. Oh, and Daddy’s the king now. God save him.

William: To his newly crowned majesty– James II– I send you greetings–

*evil music / exert of “Allegro” by Marco Rosano*

James: James II! Boy, you’re the husband of my eldest daughter, the heir apparent to the throne of England, my father’s grandchild, my son-in-law: it’s King James II!

William: Ah. From one very close ally to another very, very close ally– that is what we still are, right?

James: Say it! Say my name, William!

William: King James II?

James: YES! That’s me, the king! Say it again!

William: King James II, I first wish to send you condolences on the death of your brother, God save hi–

James: I was at his bed when he passed.

William: Surely, you provided much comfort to Charles–

James: Oh, “surely provided much comfort to Charles,” yes! He converted, on his deathbed, to Catholicism!

William: *spits*

James: I’ll never forget his final words to me: “Make sure my whores don’t starve!” Men of power keep mistresses, you know… Do you know that, William?

William: …Well, uh, the reason I write is because, well, I have an offer for you. You see, here in Europe we have a little club. I call it “a league”. Not everyone is allowed into it, actually, but England most definitely would be allowed in “the league”. It is what may be described as “exclusive”. A lot of really great countries have joined: uh, Austria, Spain, the Netherlands, even Savoy.

James: Which countries are not allowed?

William: France.

James: Oh, don’t like Louis, do we?

William: No, I don’t! Louis wants to be king of Europe and he– he is routinely invading us here in Holland. Your son-in-law: who is that? That is me! Which I know you aren’t thrilled about, but your daughter is the Princess of Orange. Louis XIV is invading not just my country, but also her country.

James: Please. Mary’s country is, and always will be, England!

William: And as the future Queen of England, you should protect her.

James: I wouldn’t be so sure about Mary. While she is the eldest, she’s still a woman, and unlike you, William, I plan to perform kingly duties with my queen.

William: I just wanted to invite you to our league.

James: I’m very important, I’ve got to go.

William: France is at our borders as we speak!

James: That’s not my problem. Mary was betrothed to him for years, you know, before she married you. My idiot brother made that happen against my protests but I’m the king now! I wasn’t supposed to be, but God wanted me. God needs me! Sixty years of second-fiddle to King Syphilis and now I’m calling the shots, William! I don’t need you, you need me, and frankly, I don’t really like you.

*evil music / exert of “Allegro” by Marco Rosano*

James: Shh!

William: Why you do that?

*evil music / exert of “Allegro” by Marco Rosano*

James: Shh!! Thank you. Ooo, ooo, how they all loved my brother Charles the Pervert– forced me to marry my daughter to that Dutch abortion! Now, I’d like to speak to the court! You all like… gossip, don’t you? Let’s talk about William.

*retro music / exert of “O Samba Brasileiro” by Walter Wanderley*

Mary: They’re laughing, Maria Regina. They’ve been whispering all morning and I don’t– I don’t want to sound paranoid but… I hear my name. I hear William’s name and I hear… Betty’s name.

Messengers: God save him!

Mary: Hello?

Messenger 1: Your father sends us–

Messenger 2: God save him!

Messenger 1: James II–

Messenger 2: Long may he reign!

Mary: Oh, Father sends you?

Messengers: God save him, yes!

Messenger 2: In his infinite and divine wisdom, we were sent to you–

Messenger 1: His oldest daughter–

Messenger 2: Possibly the future queen–

Mary: Possibly?

Messenger 1: Your mother, the queen–

Mary: She’s not my mother.

Messenger 2: Is hoping to reward England with many sons–

Messenger 1: But one’s eyes are to the future–

Messenger 2: He hasn’t forgotten his eldest.

Mary: Oh, we haven’t spoken–

Messenger 1: He thinks of you often.

Mary: Well, he doesn’t write.

Messenger 1: It’s not that he thinks of you as you are–

Mary: Okay…?

Messenger 2: More for what you could be.

Mary: Well, I’m just happy that he’s thinking of me.

Messenger 2: He’s thinking of your soul.

Messenger 1: Your eternal soul.

Messenger 2: Your eternal, everlasting soul.

Mary: Yup, those both mean the same thing.

Messenger 1: Since Jesus was crucified–

Messenger 2: [indecipherable], mind you–

Mary: Yes, I’ve heard.

Messenger 1: A church was born–

Messenger 2: The Catholic Church!

Mary: *spits* Oh, sorry, habit.

Messenger 1: James–

Messenger 2: King James–

Messengers: God save him!

Messenger 1: Has sent us–

Messenger 2: In his infinite and sacred judgment–

Messengers: To convert you to Catholicism!

Mary: …Yeah, no, I’m good.

Messenger 1: It’s the true faith.

Mary: Yes, next time he could just write.

Messenger 2: [indecipherable] reading materials!

Mary: Right, or even visit–

Messenger 1: [indecipherable] all the celebrities are Catholic.

Messenger 2: Wow, really?

Messenger 1: Really!

Messengers: Like who?

Messenger 2: The pope, you ever heard of him?

Messenger 1: Of course! Wow, the pope is Catholic?

Messengers: Who else?

Messenger 2: God!

Mary: Debatable.

Messengers: Who else?

Messenger 2: Louis XIV.

Messenger 1: Whoah, he’s a heartthrob.

Mary: Yes, okay, I’ve heard enough!

Messenger 1: But Louis’ such a hunk!

Messenger 2: And Catholic!

Messenger 1: And… He’s Catholic?

Messenger 2: You better believe it!

Messengers: A Catholic hunk!

Mary: Okay, I’m married!

Messenger 1: For now.

Mary: …Excuse me?

Messenger 1: Hard to ignore the rumors–

Messenger 2: Naughty rumors–

Messenger 1: Everyone’s tittling–

Messenger 2: A-tittle here, a-tittle there–

Messengers: Tittle everywhere!

Messenger 1: That little Dutch devil–

Messenger 2: Evil Protestant pervert–

Mary: Oh, no, no, no, him buggering boys– that’s just a rumor!

Messenger 1: Boys?!

Messenger 2: Buggering?!

Messenger 1: Boys?!

Messenger 2: Buggering?!

Messengers: Buggering boys?!

Messenger 1: More like buggering the help.

Messenger 2: Dutch devil!

Mary: With the help?

Messengers: Buggering the help.

Messenger 1: Yes, everyone knows–

Messenger 2: Knows her name even.

Mary: Do you know their name?

Messenger 1: Well, I’ve said everyone–

Messenger 2: We’re part of everyone–

Mary: So, yes?

Messengers: Yes!

Mary: What’s his name?

Messenger 1: His name?

Messenger 2: His name?

Messengers: Squinty Betty!

Messenger 1: Squinty Betty’s a man?

Messenger 2: I didn’t know she was a man!

Messeger 1: No, I bet Betty’s a man.

Messenger 2: No, man, she’s a wo-man.

Messenger 1: Wo-man?

Messengers: Wo-man, she’s a wo-man!

Mary: Wait, Squinty Betty?!

Messenger 1: And the Dutch devil!

Messenger 2: Evil Dutch devil!

Messenger 1: Evil!

Messenger 2: Evil: that’s not good!

Messenger 1: No, it’s not good!

Messenger 2: That’s the opposite of good!

Messengers: And what’s the opposite of good?

Mary: Evil!

Messangers: *scream*

Mary: *screams*

Messenger 1: [indecipherable] James–

Messenger 2: King James–

Messengers: God save him!

Messenger 1: Has the fires burning.

Mary: Fires?

Messenger 2: To feel the heat.

Messenger 1: Ow!

Messenger 2: Careful.

Messenger 1: It’s the heat.

Messenger 2: I feel it.

Messenger 1: [indecipherable] King James [indecipherable] our beloved England [indecipherable] burning more evil people than Charles ever did.

Mary: Wait, he’s burning people?

Messenger 2: [indecipherable]

Messenger 1: Evil people!

Mary: He’s burning people?!

Messenger 2: [indecipherable]

Messenger 1: Evil people!

Mary: Father’s burning people?!

Messenger 2: [indecipherable]

Messenger 1: Evil people!

Mary: Jesus!

Messengers: Praise him!

Messenger 1: Praise Jesus!

Messenger 2: Praise God!

Messenger 1: Praise the pope!

Messenger 2: And above all, praise the king!

Messengers: God save King James II, long may he reign!

Mary: …William and Betty– no… No, I’ll have nothing to do with silly, irreverent myths… Betty! Um, throw these away. And, um, put the children to bed, will you? Oh– oh– oh– oh– oh, um… question: how is it you always to find William in such a talkative mood?

Betty: I just run into him.

*laid back retro music / exert of “Rain” by Walter Wanderley*

Mary: It’s late. No, you don’t have to leave. You were in Betty’s room. Do you know how I know that? Maybe because the entire court is talking about it! No, you don’t need to talk! I have tried to get you to talk for months, you do not need to talk now! Fuck off, Betty! The longest I’ve ever spent with you is [indecipherable]. You’re impossible! You’re thick! Uncaring! Cruel! My life here is suffering and now you make me the fool? To my father, to the court, and to myself! I’m the fool! You know, it was better when I thought you were gay; I thought “Well, at least it’s not my fault” but now I know, “No, it is my fault!” You turned down marrying me once before, why did you have to say yes this time? I was engaged to Louis XIV! I could’ve been in Versailles, in the most beautiful place on Earth and I would’ve been happy– no, I would be happy! And I would be liked and my family would love me and I would’ve done everything right, but then you came along! And ruined it! And everything! And me! And– this isn’t right! No! This is not how this was supposed to go! It was supposed to be me and Louis and it would’ve been right and normal and then I would be normal and happy and I don’t know– I don’t know why you had to say yes this time! Louis– Louis– Louis is– Louis– Louis– Louis– Louis– Louis– Louis– Louis’ the king! Right? Right? And he’s beautiful! I assume. I’ve seen the portraits– which are rarely accurate– but I’ve always wanted to marry him! Well, I was always supposed to marry him– but at least he’s nice! Yes, I’ve not met him, but at least I’ve heard that he’s ni– well, I guess I’ve actually not heard anything, but I was alway supposed to ma– Well, I guess I always– Okay, well, I guess I’ve never really actually thought about it! Well, I guess I never actually like Louis, or men… Men in general. I mean, I write to a woman who I call my husband, and I’ve always had a crush on her, but she’s not very nice to me, and she writes to my sister more than she writes to me, AND I DON’T KNOW IF I’M A LESBIAN, OKAY?! I don’t like men! But I don’t know if I like women either– historically speaking, there’s some things we just can’t know about me, okay, historically speaking– but personally speaking, you know what? I’M FIFTEEN YEARS OLD!! How am I supposed to know?! You know what? No! I didn’t want to marry Louis, now that I think about it, because, well, I never actually thought about it because, well, I’M NEVER SUPPOSED TO THINK! But I am gonna think! Like you said, we’re just first citizens here, right? So I’m allowed to think! So I’m gonna think! So I’m gonna think! Right, let me think! …Okay. I have something to say. I’m fifteen years old, William. Do you have any idea how scary this is? Leaving my country, marrying you, a stranger, I… I don’t speak the language, I don’t have any friends, and you, my husband, are still a stranger. You don’t have to love me. You don’t have to like me. But please don’t be cruel to me. I… I do not know how much… more a fifteen year old girl can take.

William: …Betty’s a spy. Before I married you, I had asked her to inform me about you.

Mary: Yeah, a spy, that’s the best you could come up with–

William: It’s true.

Mary: Yes, my lady-in-waiting is a spy! …Well, what did Betty the spy say?

William: She said you weren’t like your family.

Mary: Well, I tried to be like them.

William: I never tried.

Mary: Well, I think that makes you honest.

William: But not liked.

Mary: Well, they don’t like either of us. We share that at least.

William: I need to say something.

Mary: Okay! Good! Yeah! Okay! I’m here! I can listen! …Is it a problem? Is it personal? Is it about what I think it’s about? I know what it is, William.

William: You do?

Mary: Yes. It’s about–

Mary and William: Your penis / Your father

William: Wait, what?!

Mary: What about my father?

William: He terrifies me.

Mary: Oh, yeah, me too.

William: The balance of peace in this world is a delicate thing and James isn’t.

Mary: You can talk to me about these things, William. I know who my father is, you’re not going to hurt my feelings.

William: Yes… My penis?

Mary: Oh, um, well, I mean… why haven’t we…?

William: I’m uncomfortable around–

Mary: Me.

William: …people.

Mary: Oh, yeah, well, same, haha... But, um… It’s just a job, right? We would just be… doing our… our job.

*classical music / exert of “Zadok The Priest, Hwv 258″ by the English Chamber Orchestra*

William: *panting*

Mary: I HAVE NEWS! …I’M PREGNANT!! I did it! William did it! We, um… well, obviously, we did it. Oh my God, I feel a strange thing!

William: Are you okay?!

Mary: No! Yes! No! …I feel… happy.

*cheerful folk music / “Bransle de Bourgogne” by Brisk Recorder Quartet Amsterdam*

Anne: I have news!

Mary: Hello, Anne!

Anne: Hello, Mary.

Mary: You’re pregnant?

Anne: No, Mumsy is.

Mary: She’s not our mother.

Anne: They say if it’s a boy, God has chosen to make England Catholic again, but that’s only a 50-50 chance.

Mary: No, he wouldn’t baptize him Catholic, Anne.

Anne: I wouldn’t be so sure.

Mary: But we’ve just had nine years of civil war, why would he lead us into another?

Anne: To save us from the Dutch Devil.

William: Me?

Anne: I prefer “the Dutch Abortion” but “devil” isn’t bad. Gotta go!

Mary: God be with thee, Anne.

Anne: P.S. I may be pregnant, not sure.

*cheerful folk music / “Bransle de Bourgogne” by Brisk Recorder Quartet Amsterdam*

Mary: Ohhh!

Messengers: Glorious day!

Messenger 1: Tra-la!

Messenger 2: We’ve been sent to you by your father, the king!

Messenger 1: God save him!

Messenger 2: Long may he reign!

Mary: Again, he could always just write.

Messenger 1: He has his own pregnancy to attend to.

Messenger 2: His future son!

Mary: Are you certain about that?

Messenger 1: God ordained it!

Messenger 2: A Catholic England!

Messengers: Tra-la!

Messenger 1: We’ve been sent to beseech you.

Messenger 2: Consider your child’s–

Messenger 1: Everlasting soul!

Messenger 2: Baptize your child in the Catholic faith!

Mary: *spits* …morning sickness.

Messenger 1: For your child!

Messenger 2: For your father!

Messenger 1: You must respect him!

Messenger 2: Honor him!

Messenger 1: It’s in the Bible!

Messenger 2: “Honor thy father”!

Messengers: The Fifth Commandment!

Messenger 1: Honor the king of England!

Messenger 2: God save him!

Messenger 1: Long may he reign!

Messenger 2: For England!

Messengers: Make the baby Catholic!

William: Mary?

Mary: Yes?

William: Honor is not obeying.

*cheerful folk music / “Bransle de Bourgogne” by Brisk Recorder Quartet Amsterdam*

Anne: I have news!

Mary: You’re pregnant.

Anne: Besides that, Mary, but yes.

Mary: Oh, congratulations!

Anne: Yes, same to you!

Mary: Thank you!

Anne: Thank you! I have news: people are talking about Mother’s pregnancy–

Mary: Ah, she’s not our mother.

Anne: –And they think it’s all a big fake! Everyone is saying how [video skips]

Mary: Who’s saying that?

Anne: The court, Parliament, everyone! Oh, they don’t like Papa; they say every nineteen out of twenty want him gone.

Mary: Yes, but not likely cause the king does not–

William: Mary–

Anne: Ew!

Mary: Anne!

Anne: Sorry… Hello, William… glad you got my sister pregnant. *retches*

Mary: No. No, it’s not right for me to dance… No! No, I can have this moment! I can be happy! Yeah, nothing’s gonna stop me– *claps* –from enjoying this moment! Go ahead!

*cheerful folk music / “Bransle de Bourgogne” by Brisk Recorder Quartet Amsterdam*

Monmouth: Ah! I thank you for the generosity both you and William have shown me over the last undetermined period of time, but I must leave.

William: Oh, where’re you going? I was going to plan another hunt.

Monmouth: There comes a time in every mans life where the cruel, [indecipherable] eye of destiny looks upon him! The hero of every story has his moment of action! [indecipherable] standing on the precipice of glory to see the apotheosis of my journey’s end on that glorious mountain green! Today I sail! This story shall no longer wander unguided like an orphan clinging from one vague historical anecdote to another! No! Search no longer, poor play, for you have found your hero! And that hero… it’s me. Someone has to save our England! I have a mighty army of almost one hundred men! Eighty two to be exact!

Mary: Wait, with eighty two men you’re planning to–

Monmouth: Invade England, seize the crown, depose your father, my uncle, and save England from Catholic *spits* tyranny?

Mary: You’re planning on doing this with…

Monmouth: Eighty two men! Historically, this is what I did, so yah. [indecipherable] sweet cousin, it will be a Protestant England! ALL HAIL KING BASTARD THE FIRST! CHA-CHAH! Ah! He-yaaaaaaaaaaaa!!

Mary: Eighty two men can’t overthrow the king of England!

William: He’s hoping the people will rise.

Mary: What would they do to father?

William: Kill him.

Mary: Ah! Ah!

William: Okay, okay, okay! The Bastard doesn’t have any support, your father will be fine! You can have this moment; you deserve to be happy.

Mary: How? I may not like my family, but I love them. Yes, I-I deserve to be happy, but Father doesn’t deserve to die!

William: He won’t, he’ll be fine!

Mary: You can’t know that for sure.

William: I do! …I-I promise you– I-I… I promise on the life of our child that nothing will happen to your father. I’ll see to it.

Mary: You will?

William: Mmhm.

Mary: …Okay… Okay, yes, okay… I’m happy.

William: Rest. Nurse? Take my wife to her bedchamber. Make sure she doesn’t want for anything.

Mary: Ooo!

William: [indecipherable]. James?

*evil music / exert of “Allegro” by Marco Rosano*

James: James?! Use my full title!

William: I have grave news.

James: Oh, has France invaded you again?

William: Your nephew, the Duke of Monmouth–

James: Who?

William: …The Bastard.

James: Oh, why didn’t you say?! How is the lad?

William: He’s leading an army to depose you and take the crown for himself.

James: *laughs* You’re having a laugh! …Shit! How dare he! Doesn’t he know who I am?! I’m the king! I’m very well respected and loved– everybody loves me! *gasps* Why doesn’t he love me?! Oh, he’s just a little shit bastard, I’ll crush him! How dare he not see how awesome I am! How powerful and strong and– oh! I am so mad right now! It was a good day too, it was going really well, I had just finished telling the queen “I’m gonna make it a good one today, you know!” Ugh, I am so mad right now I’m literally shaking! *gasps* I need to eat something!

William: I hope you now see that our relationship is very…

*execution drums / exert from “March to the Scaffold” by Paul Edward*

Headsman: *giggling* For your crimes against the crown, you are sentenced to death!

James: Say hello to your father for me, boy. Any last words?

Monmouth: Fuck off!

James: How dare you! Kill the bastard!

Headsman: God save the king!

James: No one questions my authority!

Monmouth: Piss off!

James: Bastard?!

Monmouth: I have still a few [indecipherable]

James: How dare you! [indecipherable]

Headsman: Thank you. One more!

James: Who’s the douchebag now, huh?

Monmouth: You are!

James: Bastard! [indecipherable] I am not a douchebag, I am the king of England!

Monmouth: Douche of England more like it!

James: Cut off his head!

Headsman: [indecipherable] does anyone want to take over, huh?

Monmouth: It takes– ugh! –and this is all true– ugh! –five blows! Ugh! King Douche II! Ugh– *splutters*

James: Who’s the douchebag now, huh? Not me. I am not a douche! You hear me, Bastard?! I am not a douche! You hear me, England? I am not a douche! I am King James II! Not King Douche II! King James II! Charles didn’t respect me, and you, you didn’t respect me, but my people will. OR I’LL FUCKING MAKE THEM! They will fucking tremble in love and adoration– ohh! I want hundreds to pay for this bastard’s actions! I don’t care who they were, if they even so much as saw him walk by, they are to be executed. Churchyard trees are to be littered with corpses, the military men will be order to play in time with the twitching of their feet! And if you think that this is too much, too cruel, I’ll remind you: One, I am just being historically accurate, and two, I am the goddamn motherfucking King of England! William!

William: …your majesty.

James: Oh, I couldn’t’ve done it without you! …But I know what this is. Scared to lose a few more windmills to Louis, huh? What, you thought that you could bribe me with this little quid-pro-quo?

William: I didn’t do it for you, I did it for Mary.

James: Mary? Don’t you dare bring my daughter into this. What? You thought that I was so stupid that little nugget of information would have me on all-fours like a whipped bitch begging to do you any favor you asked? No! That little shit was nothing! I could have fought him off while wiping my ass! I owe you nothing! France may be at your borders, but England could join them just as easily! God knows Louis and I talk about it. *laughs* Tip-toe around me, William. Now, I’d like to speak to my daughter. Now!

William: Mary, could you come here, please? I have a letter for you from your father.

Mary: He’s safe! Thank you, William!

James: Mary, my eldest daughter! *laughs* You know, I fought your uncle Charles about you having to marry that–

Mary: [indecipherable] William’s wonderful, actually. Yes, I–I miss my home very much, but Holland, it’s very, very clean.

James: [indecipherable] they tell me you’re considering a Catholic baptism.

Mary: Oh, no I’m not, Father.

James: You have a responsibility to me, Mary. Biblically, I am your father and you must honor me.

Mary: Well– I do honor you.

James: Then you must obey me.

Mary: Well, honor is not obeying.

James: From King Douche II to you now?

Mary: King Douche?

James: How dare you! I am very [indecipherable] you talk back to me. I am your father and you must honor me!

Mary: Enough of this.

James: You will make the child Catholic!

Mary: Stop!

James: We all know you have no choice. You’re a prisoner.

Mary: Please…

James: [indecipherable], Mary, there’s hope in the distance!

Mary: What are you suggesting?

James: Just because you… lie with the Dutch Dog doesn’t mean you need to get its flees.

Mary: He’s my husband!

James: *laughs* William isn’t long for this world.

Mary: What are you planning?

James: Oh, come now!

Mary: What are you plann– ah! Ah!

James: *laughs* You look like him. Can’t even walk without wheezing, spits blood; your time in the tower is almost over, Mary.

Mary: He is the father of my child. William, could you come here, please?

James: *scoffs* Is he the father? Last I heard, he couldn’t perform.

Mary: You’re one to talk!

James: My performance isn’t to be questioned!

Mary: I know the rumors of the queen’s great belly!

James: [indecipherable] rumors: just a few!

Mary: Nineteen out of twenty! That’s what– ah! Ah!

James: Make the child Catholic!

Mary: *spits*

James: Your mother–

Mary: She’s not my mother!

James: No, your real mother! Remember the day she died?

Mary: Please, Father, I’m in pain! I don’t want–

James: The day she died the priest came to administer her last rites, to cleanse her soul. Without it, your mother would be damned for all eternity! Her skin would scorch, blisters would form– weeping blisters!

Mary: *voice breaking* …William?

James: A priest came… and she refused him.

Mary: William! …That’s a lie!

James: After my counseling she refused the Protestant priest. The Catholic bishop was called in and all was confessed. So, in your philosophy, Mary, is it your mother or your child who’s damned to unfathomable pain and suffering? Which is the one true faith? If you baptize that child Protestant, it means you believe it’s your mother suffering, right now as we speak. Have you ever considered hellfire, Mary? *laughs* It’s something to think about. Oh! Your new mummy’s in labour now. Got to run.

Anne: Mary– and William *scoffs*– the queen’s had a baby. It’s a boy. They’ve baptized him Catholic *spits* toldja so. But there’s something else. I have some gossip! All of London– they think it’s a changeling! They think it’s not a real child. They think she snuck a child into her bed to pass off as our brother! Oh! Papa’s going mad. Something’s going to happen. Something bad.

William: May I see it?

Betty: There’s nothing to see. ...You should go to her, William.

*dramatic music / exert from “2020” by SUUNS*

♪ And what you see is really what you see ♪ ♪ What you, what you, what you, what you ♪ ♪ Do what you please, the thing what you see ♪ ♪ What you, what you, what you, what you ♪ ♪ And what you see you feel ♪ ♪ Coming real, take your way ♪ ♪ All through the way… ♪

~ Intermission ~

*guitar strumming*

Chorus: ♪ Good fortune [indecipherable] William and Mary [indecipherable]-tend ♪ ♪ May glories increase and their lives never end ♪ ♪ [indecipherable] daily successes our nation may find ♪ ♪ For England [indecipherable] they both are designed ♪

Mary: William?

William: Huh?

Mary: Why is there a Greek chorus?

William: [indecipherable] chorus now.

Mary: Yes, why?

Chorus: ♪ Over the hills and it must be done ♪ ♪ To England, Glorious Revolution! ♪ ♪ William commands and we will obey ♪ ♪ Over the hills and far away ♪

Mary: Shoot, shoot, shoot! What story with a Greek chorus ends well?!

William: It’s just a device, Mary, it doesn’t mean–

Mary: The letter! They’re here because of the letter!

William: We received a letter?

Mary: From England. They call themselves–

Chorus: ♪ THE IMMORTAL SEVEN! ♪

Mary and William: The Immortal Seven.

Mary: Parliament has invited us to England.

William: They’ve invited us to invade England.

Mary: Why would they do that?

William: I don’t know.

Mary: We can’t invade!

Chorus: ♪ Invade you must, there’s no time to waste ♪ ♪ James is a monster! Our country defaced ♪ ♪ Blood in the streets and corpses in trees ♪ ♪ Come and put our minds at ease ♪

William: Your father is in talks to invade with Louis. Where? Here! He’s–he’s had his boy and he’s baptized him Catholic and all of England is on the brink of Civil War again!

Mary: What does that have to do with us?

William: Um, well… They want us to depose your father.

Mary: It has to be us?

William: I don’t see another alternative.

Mary: Shoot, shoot, shoot! Is it right?

William: Right? We–we save England, we save the Netherlands, we keep Europe in balance– yes.

Mary: But is it right for a daughter to depose her father? It’s the Fifth Commandment, right? “Honor thy father!”

William: He doesn’t need to die.

Mary: Well, I know my history, William! You only depose a king by killing him. How many former kings do you see walking around?! But… He can’t invade Holland! It’s your country and you care so much for it and the people and it’s so very, very clean– Okay, yes! We should do this. But we have to do it a different way. No blood. No killing. If it’s an invasion, it has to be a bloodless invasion!

William: I don’t know…

Mary: Can you try?

William: Invade one of the most powerful countries in the world, other-throw its king, and not hurt anyone in the process?

Mary: Please?

William: …Ja.

Chorus: *gasps* ♪ What’s that you say? ♪ ♪ We prick up our ears ♪ ♪ [indecipherable] you come ♪ ♪ To end all our fears ♪ ♪ Think of what you both could be ♪ ♪ You’ll go down in history! ♪

Mary: We could, couldn’t we! Imagine all that “First Citizen” stuff here in the Netherlands– we could do that in England! You could bring all of your wonderful ideas to my country! Imagine: Freedom of religion!

William: Freedom of the press!

Mary: And no more torturing! Or bloody pomp and circumstance! And we do it bloodless! We ride into England and the people will rise with us and father will say “Oh wow, that’s what the people want!” And it’ll all work out [indecipherable] Why shouldn’t we be king and queen?! Neither one of us want the damn job so we’re the ones who should have it…

William: Would I be king?

Mary: Yes.

William: Who would you be?

Mary: The queen.

William: Right, but who’s the one in charge?

Mary: …Oh.

William: It would be you, you’re first in line.

Mary: Oh, me? No.

Chorus: *murmuring in agreement*

Mary: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! I’d rather not.

William: It’s not up to you, you’re first in line.

Mary: Ah, but you! You–you are after me!

William: Right, but you still come first.

Mary: But I don’t want to be queen– okay, wait, wait! Let me think… Okay, solution. ….We’ll… both be king and queen!

William: It does not work that way.

Mary: [spluttering] Listen! We go to England; you raise an army and depose– aw– depose father and then we say “Alright! We’re both king and queen!” What’re they gonna do, say no?

William: Joint monarchs– it would be a first.

Mary: [indecipherable] I don’t know if it’s right. God says to honor thy father, but… that doesn’t feel right.

William: We can say no, Mary.

Mary: No… You okay?

Anne: Yes, quite, sister.

Mary: Okay, good.

Anne: Stop staring at me!

Mary: Let’s keep going. And my heart says to bother you.

William: Your heart says that? What do we want to do?

Chorus: ♪ To England, to England! We sail, we sail! To England, to England! At last, at last! A tempest, a tempest! Begins, begins! And [indecipherable], and [indecipherable]! [indecipherable], [indecipherable]! ♪

Soloist: ♪ To England, we sail / [indecipherable] / [indecipherable] / [indecipherable] ♪

Chorus: ♪ The men are afraid ♪ ♪ There’s no debate ♪ ♪ Revolution now must wait ♪

*storm sounds*

Mary: Ahh!

William: THEY’RE CALLING IT THE CATHOLIC WIND! WE CANNOT SAIL FOR ENGLAND UNTIL IT PASSES! WE’VE ALREADY LOST A THOUSAND HORSES! WE HAVE FORTY THOUSAND MEN WAITING TO INVADE– BUT THIS WIND!!

Mary: There have been so many omens! This wind; the miscarriage! Is it a sign from God?! Can a daughter who deposes her father be a Christian?! Can doing what’s right and God’s will be at odds?!

William: WHAT?!

Mary: CAN DOING WHAT’S RIGHT AND GOD’S WILL BE AT ODDS?!

William: Oh, it is over.

Chorus: ♪ [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ William and Mary, our God has ordained ♪ ♪ Rex and Regina, this we say ♪ ♪ Sail on the future king’s birthday ♪

Mary: Wait, really?

William: Ja. It’s my birthday. The fourth. Historically, that’s just how it happened to work out.

Mary: Oh! Well, that’s a good omen, right? Happy birthday to you!

William: Yes.

Mary: William, wait! Look… I respect you. And, under normal circumstances, I would never breach this, um, unspoken agreement, but, um, it’s his birthday– ah, could we– um, uh– you know– could we do just one round of “Happy Birthday”? Um, what’s a good starting note? *hums* Is that good? *hums* Ready?

Mary, chorus, and audience: ♪ Happy birthday to you! ♪ ♪ Happy birthday to you! ♪ ♪ Happy birthday dear William! ♪ ♪ Happy birthday to your! ♪

*cheering*

William: This is the greatest birthday present I’ve ever received. Thank you.

Chorus: ♪ William has come and we will defend ♪ ♪ To kick out the tyrant and and then will ascend ♪ ♪ His first steps on English soil ♪ ♪ Defender of faith and [indecipherable] ♪

William: Hello? Where the hell is everyone?

Peasant: *screams* Oh, it’s [indecipherable] Day. Everyone’s busy catching cats.

William: Ah. Well, um, I am William of Orange, Defender of the Faith and– wait, why are you catching cats?

Peasant: To [indecipherable] the pope.

William: Ah. Well, I am William of Orange, Defende– the pope?

Peasant: *sighs* Not the real one sadly, but yeah. [indecipherable] cats and set them on fire.

William: Why you do this?

Peasant: For God! It’s tradition! …You’re not from around here are ya, foreigner!

Chorus: ♪ Over the hills and it must be done ♪ ♪ To England, Glorious Revolu– ♪

Peasant: [indecipherable] you are making such a racket!

William: I am William of Orange, Defender of the Faith!

*cat screeches*

Peasant: [indecipherable] you scared the cat!

William: Good woman, have you not heard of our coming?

Peasant: …[indecipherable] in England?

William: I–

Peasant: [indecipherable] and whip em til their backs be bloody!! Ngyeehhhhhhhhh!!

William: *screams* I AM WILLIAM OF ORANGE! I COME FROM THE HAGUE BY INVITATION OF PARLIAMENT! Good lady! We come to overthrow King James II.

Peasant: *spits*

William: Progress. I am the [indecipherable]’s husband and myself, third in line. We come to bring stability and religious… freedom to this… country.

Peasant: Oh, you and what army?

Chorus: ♪ We are [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ Join is so you [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ James will soon be overthrown ♪

Peasant: Oh, [indecipherable], sir! I don’t have anything of worth but… I’d be proud to give you my cats.

William: *coughs*

Peasant: Oh, must be the cat smoke.

William: Oh, this air is filthy. I need a little rest.

Messenger: ♪ One man tried to poison your food ♪

Anne: ♪ Some with bullets [indecipherable] ♪

Chorus: ♪ Mostly [indecipherable] ready to fight ♪

Charles: ♪ [indecipherable] horse was white! ♪

William: Let us move forward!

James: William! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!

Chorus: ♪ James was appalled by the sight that he saw ♪

James: ♪ I’ll have your head, boy, remember [indecipherable]! ♪

Chorus: ♪ Soon his generals started to fall ♪

James: ♪ Troops, make an example of him! ♪

Chorus: ♪ James’ troops then began to abandon ♪ ♪ Our glorious William now [indecipherable] ♪

James: Did you not all swear your loyalty?! You are all my subjects! *gaps* Mary! Ungrateful daughter! You must swear your loyalty to your father! It is God’s will! The Fifth Commandment! Consider the hell– *splutters* What the hell? Anne, Messenger, and Monmouth: ♪ Blood from his nose ♪ ♪ [indecipherable] to God ♪ ♪ James was denied ♪ ♪ His royal throne ♪

James: No! No! What the hell?! *spluttering* The Fifth Commandment– shit! This is terribly inconvenient

Anne, Messenger, and Monmouth: ♪ To James [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ His nose really bled ♪

James: WAIT, WHAT?!!

Anne, Messenger, and Monmouth: ♪ To France, King James ♪ ♪ Finally fleeeeeeeeeeee– ♪

James: STOP SINGING!

Anne, Messenger, and Monmouth: ♪ –eeeeeeeedddddd ♪

James: What, is this really historically accurate?! You’re just gonna let me go, William?! HA! Coward! I will return, William, I promise you that! Mary! Ungrateful daughter! You will suffer the fait of an unfaithful daughter. This is not how my story was… suppose to be told… To France.

Chorus: ♪ William has won now that James has fled ♪

William: *prolonged violent coughing*

Chorus: ♪ London is happy! ♪ ♪ With bonfires lit ♪ ♪ Willy’s lungs can’t take the smoke ♪ ♪ And all the fog just made him choke ♪ ♪ Over the hills and it must be done ♪ ♪ To England, Glorious Revolution! ♪ ♪ William commanded and now we’ve won ♪ ♪ Our new day begins with the rising of the sun! ♪ ♪ Of the sun! ♪

William: *groaning, gasping for breath*

#redlady speaks #it takes. a really long time to transcribe something #history brainrot #william iii #mary ii #the glorious revolution #charles ii #james ii #queen anne #the stuarts

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gxlden-angels · 3 years

Text

Mass Shooting/Violence/Racism TW

It's awkward being Black and Ex Christian in the U.S. Like no I wasn't oppressed for being a Christian, but the good and bad ties between being black and going to church made it really easy to convince me, and all the church folk I knew, that we are

It's not a new phenomenon of black people getting killed at churches. You had the church bombings during MLK Jr's time. You had the multiple mass shootings at predominantly black churches. Most churches I've gone to have armed security now, usually a cop/security guard who already goes to the church, and the pastors keep something to defend themselves on the property if need be. My dad was an unarmed security guard/usher at our old church who's job was to get the pastor out and to his car if a shooting or bombing did start. It's a big enough problem that completely fictional movies like The First Purge show racial violence by having neo-nazi's sent to low-income black neighborhoods and the first place they attack is a black church where the residents were trying to hide for safety

I've talked before about how black churches are often a source of survival, especially in low-income areas. My church would sell dinners and use the proceeds to fix the church since we didn't make enough money just tithing and offering most of the time. On holidays, everyone brings on food and they give everyone free dinners in the back. You can sit and eat however long you want. They have a house on the property you can rent out/stay in if needed. They'll let you sell stuff on the property, like peanut boils, vegetables you grew, clothes/jewelry you made, etc. Growing up, my cousins even went to a church with a giving system. If you were in need of money, they did a little raffle and gave someone a portion of the tithes to help support them. I felt uncomfortable sitting and listening to sermons, but when I was christian, it felt worth it to go. I wanted free food and affection and would feel guilty if I only went for that and didn't at least try to catch the lesson. Churches like that feel like a source of safety and comfort with people like you. Especially older black folk who lived during the time of segregated buildings like my grandparents. My granddad talks about how he'd spend hours at church and went multiple times a week if he could before he got older/sick. It was were he got to see family and friends. You knew you'd feel like you're apart of a big family going to church, and some people even got "adopted" into my extended family from church.

So when someplace like a church is targeted by white supremacy groups, it's not just attacking a black-owned place, it's attacking a community as a whole. You're destroying a sanctuary for everyone in that area who gets support from the church. And with black people's history in the United States, it's becomes a personal attack on each individual black christian's spirit. The earliest recorded member of my family we found was a slave from before the American Revolution. My family sings the Negro National Anthem (Lift Evr'y Voice And Sing) at every family reunion. A large portion of black people see our freedom from slavery (then the Black Codes, Jim Crow, Segregation, Police Brutality, etc) as a miracle of G-d, as seen by the lyrics of the Negro National Anthem.

We're not being targeted for being christian, but there's so many ties between feeling safe as a black person in the U.S and going to church, that it only takes a few connections and word choices to make it seem like we are. This white supremacist shooter was also an atheist. The KKK burned crosses. Small black churches get shutdown by the city all the time. All of these acts are the result of racial, financial or xenophobic violence, but when laid out like that to black people who already know racism exists and experience it every day of their lives, you start to make deeper connections. My family experienced microaggressions in our predominantly white, rich neighborhood we lived in when I was a kid, but were never assaulted for our race. We see smaller things every day. Getting told our natural hair is gross/unprofessional. Getting called a slur for existing. Getting the cops called for gathering/playing music outside. Having people assume we're cleaning services cause there's no way we could afford a nice place. But then you see big things at churches and other christian places all on the news. The violence happens at a christian place, so people make the connection that these black people are being attacked for being being black Christians, not just being black.

So it's weird being black and ex christian and seeing how this all works. I'm going to assume most racially motivated hate crimes at churches is because the attacker knew a lot of people would be there and/or that they are a staple of community for low-income black people. But I am still PIMO and witness how my pastor spins a tragedy like this to say it's "spiritual warfare" and that the devil is trying to attack Christians.

They're right, black christians are being targeted, and have been for a long time. Churches were and are a large target of racial violence. But it's not because they're christian, it's because they're black. It's because they don't fit into the White Americanism-Evangelical Based dream white supremacist have. Even the supremacists that are atheist base a lot of their morals on this "White Americanism" they were raised with. So black christians have legitimate reasons to feel targeted and attacked, because they are. But I don't like it being spun to this "spiritual warfare" narrative I see in a lot of black churches. We can't do anything about "demonic oppression" and "worldly desires" but we can work to dismantle platforms neo-nazis use to speak and spread. Speaking in tongues isn't gonna magically made the financial crisis in black populations go away, but we can make black churches safer by financing that community and helping people with their mental health. I'm not going to turn back to Christianity anytime soon, but I'm also not going to pretend like it didn't get generation after generation of my family through our traumatic history. It helped them. It saved a lot of them. They associate just existing as a black person in the U.S with being christian. So I get why they feel like an attack on their race is also an attack on their faith, especially older folk who wouldn't be alive without the help of a church.

#I rambled a bit but I think I got my point across well #Like being black and christian in the u.s go together so much that BET has a gospel category #and a lot of aave words come from church phrases #like I'm not christian but I'll still say 'can I get a amen?' or 'hallelujah' cause we just say those even at out of church contexts #and don't even get me started on the emotionalism of church that spreads outside #that's why 'caught the holy ghost' gets said too sometimes #you have big accounts like embracingblackculture on instagram who has posts dedicated to prayer/christianity #it's also a huge source of toxic masculinity and homophobia among black men #ex christian #religious trauma #religious abuse #mass shooting tw #violence tw #paranoia tw #racism tw #long post

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stranger-who-writes-fiction · 3 years

Text

Gonna make full use of my ‘comic rant’ tag and roast Future State: Superwoman.

Spoilers! And yelling! Of the disgruntled kind!

So a few things at the start here: 1.) I wanted to love this book. I wanted it to be great. I wanted to give it the benefit of the doubt, in spite of some iffy stuff in the solicit text. So this rant is not coming from a place of having decided this was going to be awful ahead of time. 2.) My tolerance for bad Supergirl comics is pretty high! Takes a lot for me to actually come out and say that a particular issue is trash. Reader: This story is trash.

It’s not ‘middle-aged white guys writing/drawing a story about sending a minor to a potentially hostile planet fully nude’ trash, mind you. It’s the compost bin, rather than the landfill. Slightly nicer trash, but it still stinks to high heaven. Allow me to expand!

PROLOGUE - SUMMARY: ...I actually can’t summarize this comic b/c it would devolve into a lot of senseless yelling. We’ll just have to tease out this terrible plot as we go along.

PART I - DEAD DOGS TELL BAD TALES: The comic opens with Kara standing at Krypto’s grave. That’s not why this comic is trash, but it bears mentioning. Because why. Why would you do this.

PART II - IN WHICH IT ONLY GETS WORSE: So, Kara has a running inner monologue, and the main thing we gather from Kara’s thoughts is that it was Krypto who taught her to be a hero. On paper, that sounds very sweet! In practice, it reads as Kara having no moral center whatsoever—whatever good qualities she might possess, she did not learn from her parents, or her foster parents, or friends, or fellow heroes. Nor do they come from within Kara herself. Nope, t’was Krypto who taught Kara not to be a jealous rage monster. That is not hyperbole--Kara’s walking around angry about her cousin all the time and she’s like, ‘It was you, Krypto, who taught me not to judge, and to let go of anger.’ Listen, I love Krypto, but this? This is, as the youth would say, a bad look.

PART III - THOSE CERTAINLY ARE...SOME THEMES: The set-up here is that Kara is on the moon, and has established a sanctuary for alien refugees. That’s a dynamite idea! I love that! Buuuuut Kara didn’t look at the plight of alien refugees and say, ‘I want to help!’ Really, she didn’t even look at herself and say, ‘I don’t want others to feel like I’ve felt.’ No, she said, ‘Earth won’t accept me as a hero, and Clark didn’t name me protector of Earth, so. I’m out!’ (Honestly, if your moral compass is so whack that you need a dog to walk you back from Hulk-Smashing...can’t say I blame Clark for not picking you, Kara!) But apparently, the people on the moon don’t really like her either. And it is literally never explained why. There’s a whole montage of Kara fixing stuff and saving lives and all the moon folk just glare at her. This makes both the moon people AND Kara look like a**holes, because they come across as ungrateful, and she comes across as a glory hound. Thanks! I hate it! So the ‘peace’ Kara’s found on the moon isn’t really peaceful at all, cause she still resents her cousin, and people still don’t like her, in spite of the fact that she’s constantly performing acts of service for them.

Also, side note, I’m just now realizing this is an entire population of alien refugees...and Kara is somehow still the odd one out. Like, Earth I get, because everyone else is a human and maybe freaked out by the super powers. But a bunch of aliens? WHY. Why did you do this. Why did this need to be set on the moon with alien refugees if you’re not going to interrogate Kara’s identity as an alien refugee herself AND all of the aliens are inexplicably humanoid in appearance and utterly ordinary in terms of power levels.

Like. This is not the CW show, where they have a budget, and a huge ensemble cast to serve. YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE. AAARRRRRGHHHH.

PART III CONT’D: There’s also this weird ‘birthright’ element introduced...like, Clark and Jon stole Kara’s ‘right’ to be earth’s defender which is...a terrible reading of Kara’s modern origin. It brings in the idea that Kara is a ‘chosen one’ and because she didn’t get to be that chosen one, all of her hero work is for nothing. Never mind the whole central conceit of what makes Clark and Kara heroic...that they have this incredible power, and choose to do good with it. Nah...it’s all about her ‘right’ to protect the people of Earth! And mean ol’ Clark took that away! THANKS. I HATE IT.

PART IV - A POOR USE OF SPACE: So, all of the Future State books kind of struggle with the issue of too much exposition, which is understandable. They have to introduce an entirely new status quo in a very limited amount of literal page space, so you *really* have to have a handle on how you allocate your time and focus.

Introducing a brand new, lore-heavy heroic character who gets all of the development and dynamic art and pulls focus away from the character you’re meant to be writing is a bad use of a two issue limited series.

Like, this is a crappy Supergirl comic but it’s a great backdoor pilot for a Lynari ongoing, I guess.

Imagine if in the Jon Superman book, they introduced a random, brand new best friend for Jon, and he got the big character arc instead of Jon. That’s something you save for an arc in an ongoing title, NOT A TWO ISSUE EVENT COMIC.

Back to said new character, there’s a lot of forced attempts to parallel Kara and Lynari, but Lynari’s backstory is so confusing, rushed, and poorly explained that it’s like: okay, they’re both...angry? And the moon jerks hate them? ...uh. Okay.

(I’m gonna bring back my ‘why is this set on the moon, even’ question so that my ‘poor use of space’ header becomes a better joke.)

PART V - I'M HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO...B/C THERE SURE AIN’T ONE HERE: I’ve already mentioned that Krypto was apparently Kara’s conscience so when Lynari’s aunt arrives to...kill them? (again, everything about Lynari’s backstory is rushed and poorly explained) Kara gets real mad and basically pulls a Gothel: ‘You want me to be the bad guy? Fine! Now I’m the bad guy.’ But thank goodness Lynari is there to tell Kara no! Don’t murder the giant aunt eel! Lynari then steals Kara’s powers and gives up the swamp jewel that’s been hidden inside their body and now their aunt is less murder-y!

WOW. Couldn’t even give the big damn hero moment to Kara in her own book, huh?

So the day is saved. It takes Kara a while to regain her powers, and it’s only then, when she’s no longer ‘above’ the moon jerks, that they’re like, ‘oh, we like her!’ There is a bit of narration about how that attitude is awful. But that narration is provided by Lynari. See, the inner monologue is no longer Kara’s thoughts, but rather it has switched to Lynari’s point of view. They’re telling us this story. And do you know why?

PART VI - WHY THIS COMIC *SUCKS*: KARA DIES. SHE’S THE FRIGGIN’ ‘SECOND GRAVE’ OF THE TITULAR ‘TWO GRAVES’

Fudge this comic to heck.

See, Kara dies on the moon, presumably of old age. She’s buried next to Krypto. And this random character who we’re suddenly supposed to care about tells us her story. Not Clark. Not the Danvers. Not Brainy. Not even one of the supporting cast members from her solo title. No one from Kara’s life is mentioned at all, save for Jon and Clark, and they’re pretty much relegated to flashbacks of Kara punching them.

PART VII - TIME TO COMPARE DEATHS, I GUESS: First and foremost can I just say that I hate that’s a sentence that I’m typing about Kara in the year of our lord, 2021. But okay: Kara’s big famous death in Crisis stopped the entire DC universe cold. Everyone paused in the middle of the destruction of the multiverse to mourn her loss and honor her (GENUINELY HEROIC) sacrifice. Clark and Barbara--two established characters with a strong connection/relationship to Kara--offered lovely eulogies.

This one: Kara gets to die of old age in obscurity after a lifetime of striving to be recognized and only achieving it by de-powering and serving a population of jerks.

Not the warm and fuzzy ending you think it is!

(Meanwhile, Clark lives for millennia and spawns an entire dynasty of Els, all of ‘em out there, protecting the cosmos. I was looking forward to House of El in the hopes of maybe seeing some Kara stuff but NOPE. Thanks to Superwoman, we’re probably not gonna see any future Kara stuff beyond this! G R E A T)

And like, the argument could be made that this ending makes Kara happy. This is the life she chooses! She wants to be alone and garden on the moon! Except, we get zero insight from Kara regarding the remainder of her life. We only have Lynari’s narration and some montage shots...nearly all of which focus on other characters. But honestly, even if we did get Kara’s side of things, I doubt it would shed much light on her feelings, bEEECAUSE...

PART VIII - SUPER BLAND: This Kara really has no personality outside of ‘detached and vaguely bitter.’ I like Sauvage, I think she’s an incredibly talented artist, but here, Kara is stiff and her expression often reads as aloof. She’s very pretty, but it comes at the expense of being expressive. (And I know Sauvage can do expressive stuff...because Lyanari gets to be expressive.) Like...I love that shojo manga vibe but this is a Kara devoid of spark and warmth.

...Like...Melissa Benoist’s portrayal of Kara is right there...

I’ve already sort of touched on this but her inner monologue doesn’t have much personality either. She’s just parroting the same, ‘I need to do as Krypto taught me!’ nonsense for both issues. Until, of course, we shift to Lynari’s narration, and lose Kara’s thread entirely.

PART IX - LET’S WRAP THIS UP: This book frustrates me to no end because it had a lot of stuff going for it. It’s got a female writer and artist--still a rarity for the Supergirl book--it’s a limited series mostly free of continuity and character baggage, and it’s not tied down to the grimdark cyberpunk stuff happening in the Gotham books. YOU COULD’VE DONE ANYTHING. And, once again, DC goes with a pitch that’s: Kara is angry, Kara resents Clark...and Kara dies.

It’s also happening...right as Kara has no dedicated ongoing title, the movie’s been shelved, the TV show is entering its sixth and final season, and all promotion has shifted to new CW and HBO shows.

*screams into the void*

MAAAAAAN I hate this book. I hate that it retroactively makes me hate the Andreyko run a little bit--a run that I took to be about a traumatized young woman forced to confront her grief, and who leans on a beloved animal companion for comfort. Here, Krypto is L I T E R A L L Y the reason Kara’s not constantly frying folks with her heat vision.

I hate that this book has made me use the word ‘literally’ so much in this rant.

I hate that this could possibly be more in continuity than Millennium.

Remember Millennium? Where Kara was in like...five pages? And she was warm, and kind, and promised to help Rose because it was the right thing to do, and oh yes, WAS PRESIDENT OF EARTH?!??! AND A CLASSY OLD LADY!?!?!?!?! WHO WAS STILL ALIVE AND KICKIN’ IN THE FAR FLUNG FUTURE!?!?!?!?!

I hate that I’m using my lunch hour to rant about how much I hate this comic.

I hate that DC editorial seems hell-bent on erasing the interesting aspects of Kara’s character to sand her down to ‘the angry one’ or ‘Batman 2.0′

PART X - LET’S END ON SOME (?) POSITIVES: Don’t read this book! Don’t do it! Don’t waste your time and money!

Instead, check out ANYTHING ELSE. If you want mom!Kara, read Tom Taylor’s ‘Last Daughters of Krypton’ in the DC Nuclear Winter special. If you want heroic oldlady!Kara, read Millennium. Honestly? Pick up anything by Bendis that has Supergirl in it. It is miles away better than this. You want angry Kara working through her grief? Andreyko, Red Lantern, even Infected. ANYTHING BUT THIS. HECK, grab Superman of Metropolis instead! That has bad Kara characterization but at least she doesn’t end up dead.

Anyways. This comic is bad. I wish it wasn’t! And this is now the SECOND TIME IN A ROW that Kara’s book ends on a terrible note before the character disappears from monthly comics for an unknown period of time.

*screams into the void again*

#SG post #future state #future state superwoman #comic rant #and oh it is a RANT

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furubabes · 4 years

Text

Okay. Somebody Asked. @shoujobell and @cryptidaicat, y’all encouraged this. I’m gonna tag this #long post if you wanna filter.

So here. I got the urge to write and so I ranked the Fruits Basket couples from my favorite to least favorite. These aren’t my complete thoughts because I could honestly do multiple full meta posts on each pairing, but I tried to justify and explain all my choices. Standard disclaimer, this is subjective and we can agree to disagree.

Part 1: Just the reasonably popular ones

1. Kyoru: Someone’s gonna call me unoriginal for this but it’s fine. Kyoru is the main romance of Fruits Basket! They bring out the best in each other and build each other up as characters. Kyoru is basically my gold standard take on Sunshine Girl x Grouchy Dude, and I’m not even usually into that trope otherwise. Their romance is one of the few that feels so genuinely necessary to the story. They love each other and like each other. Kyo understands Tohru in a way no one else in the narrative does, and vice versa. They’re in love like soulmates and also like awkward teenagers. Kyoru invented romance. If it’s boring to like healthy romances with realistic development, I’ll be boring.

2. Tohrin: If Tohru didn’t end up with Kyo I would only want her to be with Rin. I guess they have some of the same appeal as Kyoru for me - Rin reads Tohru in a way a lot of people don’t. I also like how honest and raw they are with each other. They yell! They fight! Rin is down to just straight up knock Tohru over to keep her from rushing off. Also, they’re both absolute fashion icons. Goth x Prep rights. I firmly believe Tohru Honda is bisexual.

3. Yukeru: This is my favorite Yuki pairing. I followed @yunsoh way back when the reboot first started and her blog has got me absolutely hooked on Yukeru. I think Yuki’s arc would have just made a ridiculous amount of sense if he was gay. It screams comphet. Kakeru is an excellent complement to Yuki, and their bond feels incredibly natural. Honestly I feel like it’s the most organic romantic development outside of Kyoru. I think realistically they wouldn’t have gotten together until post-canon and frankly Yuki shines in his friendships much more than romances, so I’m not absolutely dying for them to be together, but if Yuki’s going to date anyone Kakeru is my pick.

4. Arisaki: Man... I just like them. They strike me as less of an epic love and more of a comfortable partnership. I also read them both as lesbians anyway lol. Honestly I think they both had feelings for Tohru at one point and bonded over it. The way I picture them happening is honestly just Arisa at 25 frantically googling ��is it gay to hold hands with my girl roommate who I spend all my time with and also we never date men“ because Saki bought them rings that look like wedding bands but they could just be super close friendship rings and oh god she’s in too deep. They’re dating for four years before they notice.

5. AyaMine: But Jessie! You literally never post about this pairing! Yeah, you’re right. I never think about them actively. But when ranking the canon ships I realized that I like the two of them together because they’re chill and understated. They’re huge loud personalities on their own but as a couple, they just feel like two people who are happy together and like spending time with one another. No drama, no mess, very understated. No plot contrivances driving their relationship. Good for them.

6. YukiKyo: Okay, so I can be convinced to put on my YukiKyo goggles more often than not. It feels iffy because there’s debate about how closely related all the Sohmas are and these two are called “cousins” a lot in school, but since half of the Sohmas are dating each other anyway, I err on the side of them being more of a clan than a proper blood family. Anyway, YukiKyo is my designated angst fuel. I think it would realistically be pretty one-sided from Yuki’s side, since we see him wanting Kyo’s approval from a very young age, but I like exploring the what-ifs of their lives if they’d been friends instead of rivals. In canon, I like to think that after high school they’re not best friends in the traditional sense, but either one could show up with a dead body and the other would help them bury it, no questions asked.

7. Yuchi: Really? Yuki’s wife is my third favorite pairing for him? Look, I adore Machi, and I still like Yuchi. But as I’ve been watching the reboot and reading others’ metas, I think I agree that their relationship could have been very powerful as a platonic one, sort of running parallel to Yuki and Tohru. I like them together but I think there wasn’t quite time for a complete character arc for Machi and her growth sort of begins and ends with Yuki. I don’t object to them being a couple in canon and I think they’re genuinely very sweet, but once again, I think Yuki stands out in his friendships more than anything. I would have liked to see Machi strike out on her own a little more.

8. Haru x Yuki: I don’t have any particular feelings towards them but I love their dynamic already and I think as a couple they’d both be really easygoing and comfortable with each other. I think a childhood crush turned close friendship is honestly the narrative that works best for them so I have no need for the two to date canonically, but every time they interact in the anime it gets a laugh out of me. They’re cool. They’d make a very pretty pair.

9. Mayutori: I’m Mayutori-neutral. I think they suffer from Fruits Basket’s pair the spare syndrome, but out of the side pairings that don’t have too much impact, they’re one I enjoy. Mayu’s fun as a character, and painfully relatable, and I like that Hatori’s eventual romance isn’t with someone who reminds him of Kana or something like that. I also want good things for Hatori. Mayutori has serious heterosexual energy though. I’m not saying this as a pro or con, they’re just very straight.

10. Hatsuzu: Okay, Haru and Rin aren’t this far down because I hate them. I’m perfectly fine with them being together in canon. But I think their romance almost... functions better as individual motivation for their character arcs than it does as an actual relationship, if that makes sense? Rin’s backstory episode is heartbreaking and her motivation to protect Haru is compelling and sympathetic, but their actual scenes together just don’t move me that much. Their romance is the least interesting part of either character for me.

11. Hiro x Kisa: Yeah I never got into it that much. It’s cute, it’s a sweet depiction of childhood crushes, but I’m not a fan of the idea of them ending up together. Kisa’s a cutie and Hiro is entertaining but the two of them together don’t actually do much for me. The dynamic between them is almost like if someone did Kyoru with none of the nuance. Ultimately though, they’re kids. I don’t expect them to have a deep and complex romance.

12. Yukiru: I think it would be a disservice to their characters if they were a couple. People far more eloquent than me have already written plenty of meta on why Yuki and Tohru aren’t what the other needs romantically, so I won’t get into it, but basically I just think their canon friendship is so beautiful and meaningful that I wouldn’t want to change it. Yuki and Tohru support my thesis that not all soulmates are romantic.

13. Tohru x Momiji: Welcome to the subjective dislike corner! This pairing is reasonably popular among people theorizing who Tohru would be with if not Kyo, but for some reason it just sits poorly with me. I can’t rank it any lower because there’s nothing evil or morally wrong about it! I just really don’t like it. I’ve quit a few fics because this pairing came up and I just can’t enjoy it.

14. Kakeru x Komaki: Idk, I just think Kakeru latching onto the one girl who was nice to him and put up with his bullshit and then being with her forever isn’t compelling. Komaki’s also probably his beard. She’s likable as an individual though.

15. Akigure: There’s plenty to say about the age gap, Shigure being in love with Akito since she was a fetus because of The Dream, the implications of a 15-18 year old knowing he’d one day want to be with a then-10-year-old... yeah, you get it. But even if I was able to put all that aside because Soulmate Destiny Logic, I still don’t think I’d like Akigure. I think they’re interesting as bitter, codependent exes, but I don’t like the idea of Akito ending up with anyone who she abused or who abused her. I think she has so much growing to do as a character and staying in a relationship within the Sohma family to do it can’t be healthy for her. I can’t see them living happily ever after, nor do I really want to.

16. Kurisa: I think what frustrates me the most here is that I want to like Kureno and everything about this romance is written to dull his most interesting traits. First of all, the age gap. Yeah, it’s gross, I don’t like it. But even past that, the love at first sight, instant fixation with each other, and lack of actual chemistry just kills me. Arisa’s stated reason to like Kureno is that he reminds her of Tohru, basically piggybacking off the chemistry she and Tohru already have, and his total lack of agency means the plot just sort of carries him along. It frustrates me that Takaya could have done something pretty cool by making them simply friends who have a chance encounter and then build a friendship from there that parallels Kureno’s abusive dynamic with Akito. It would be neat if a stranger’s kindness was the push Kureno needed to get himself out of the Sohmas’ grasp, without all the nonsensical drama about them being in love. It would also be less of a disservice to Arisa, who basically just spends the whole series pining for Kureno after they meet and I hate it. I could write a whole post about this. Maybe I will sometime.

17. Kyoko x Katsuya: I don’t think their story is romantic. I think it’s tragic for Kyoko, and if it were framed that way within the narrative, I wouldn’t object so much to its existence. But... Takaya just really likes age gaps with a younger woman and an older man, so the narrative romanticizes this man marrying his student. Katsuya can be depicted as well-meaning as you want, but he’s still got a ridiculous amount of power over Kyoko. She was also still pretty young when she had Tohru, which doesn’t make things any better because it’s clear that the relationship turned physical when Kyoko was a teen, thus dashing the idea of Katsuya legally marrying her to save her but not actually doing anything creepy. I wish Fruits Basket framed this as a story of Kyoko escaping one dangerous situation by entering a relationship with a huge power imbalance, because that happens to girls all the time and it’s tragic and compelling. The events of the story could stay the exact same and if the framing changed I would be fine with it. But this is not that. This is just a really romanticized teacher/student age gap. I’m not into it.

Part 2: Rarepairs, weird shit, and others (oh my!)

1. Yuki x Kakeru x Kimi: OT3. I’m enamored with the idea of this hot mess polycule.

2. Momiji x Kimi: Chaos meets chaos. This couple would say uwu without any irony and also steal your car keys. They’re both perceptive and smart hidden under a layer of cute and I’d wanna watch them play 4D chess with each other.

3. Kazuma x Kunimitsu: Idk how old Kunimitsu is so if he’s like 20, strike this one from the record. But I saw one post once that was like Kyo slowly realizing Kazuma and Kunimitsu were gay and had been dating for years and it was funny as hell.

4. AyaTori: It’s cute. Opposites attract, black and white hair, and Aya only listens to Hatori anyway. It’s just fun to think about.

5. Megumi x Hiro: They don’t interact in canon I just think Goth x Punk-Ass Bitch is a great concept.

6. Motoko x Nao: They’re both loud as hell and Nao having a gf that towers over him is funny. Maybe Yuki would finally get some peace.

7. Machi x Kimi: I don’t see them actually being compatible in canon but I think they could have a really homoerotic college friendship.

8. Hajime x Mutsuki: This is just YukiKyo, the non angst version.

9. Akito x Hanajima: I’m so wary of shipping Akito with anyone but this is kind of fun. The two are friends in canon and Hana isn’t remotely afraid of Akito. Plus Akito never abused Hana. I can sort of see it.

10. Hiroshi x Yusuke: Makes no sense, wouldn’t be relevant, but if those two just never spent any time apart and continued being a pair for life it would be a really good bit.

11. Akitohru: I don’t think it’s healthy to date anyone who’s previously stabbed you.

12. Kazuma x Hanajima: Stop. Go to jail. Hana’s one-sided crush is funny though.

#fruits basket #fruits basket spoilers #long post #my posts.txt

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palmett-hoes · 4 years

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Hi, I really loved your post with the monsters as Birds of Prey! Was wondering if you had any thoughts on the Foxes as Marvel or Mcu characters? I feel like I could see Dan as Carol Danvers and Andrew for sure is Jessica Jones, idk about the rest.

oh wow old post!!

haha unfortunately i’m not really a comics person so i don’t feel like i can really give the best analysis possible, but i have seen most of the mcu movies and bits and pieces of the netflix show so i’ll try my best. also im using dc characters too bc i want to

1. Dan: I think your instinct with Dan as Captain Marvel is spot-on (at least uhhh,, based on the movie lol sorry comics ppl). Her direct, forceful powers and fighting style are definitely reminiscent of dan’s no-nonsense leadership approach. similarly the themes of overcoming sexism and acceling in a male-dominated industry in the captain marvel movie is pretty much the same as dan’s story establishing herself as the first female exy captain (tho sports is way more valid than the military). plus there’s a lot of emphasis on love and friendship between women that dan is ALL about. also lashana lynch would be a god tier dan wilds fc. Dan could also def have that lawful good Okoye from Black Panther energy. Loyal, disciplined, no-nonsense leader. no powers except discipline. no hair. also danai gurira in 2012 with the dreads and the sword and the cape on TWD was definitely part of my middle school sexual awakening

2. Kevin: Aquaman. this is based pretty much exclusively on the fact that jason momoa is my #1 kevin fc and also that Pasifika kevin is phenomenal and mandatory, actually. otherwise i think he has a decent amount of stick-up-the-ass cyclops energy. or dick grayson nightwing energy but i don’t have any evidence for why. kinda looks like him tho

3. Andrew: andrew gets the most characters bc he’s my favorite. i think ur jessica jones instincts are absolutely correct, both in her storyline (i only watched the first season) and her powers. i’ve seen some powers au and the tendency seems to be giving andrew like,, psychic powers or the like, and i don’t really agree. andrew is a very direct character. he’s pragmatic, he confronts problems head on, and he doesn’t muck about in details. to me this really translates best into physical powers like super strength that help u big punch straight thru all ur problems. also i def think andrew would be not just a solo hero but a mercenary (or a detective) because he’s not altruistic enough to be a standard vigilante. he doesn’t care enough about other people to hang out on rooftops all night waiting for Crime to occur. there’s a price for that. which brings us to the NEXT andrew hero: deadpool. maybe in personality more of a drugged andrew but the superpowered mercenary is really a perfect fit for andrew. also, healing powers have a decidedly tragic poetry to them on andrew. already he’s self-destructive, if he had a healing factor his concern for his own well-being would be so beyond rock bottom it’d be in the earth’s core. even worse when you remember that with a healing factor, as opposed to indestructibility, you still feel all the pain. which brings us to Wolverine and X-23, who have the same thematic points as deadpool but are much more of a personality match and they have knife hands, which i really think andrew would appreciate. ending that sadness train and onto another tho, andrew’s aesthetic and Vibes fit the Winter Soldier just SO well (just that movie tho, not really civil war or anything past that) and a reinterpretation of the captain america story using the twinyards would be incredibly interesting. and finally, one last hero that would work really well for andrew: rogue, only remove the angst around not being able to touch people, andrew would love that. one touch and their comatose? baller. don't fucking touch him.

4. Matt: Shazam. I didn’t see the shazam movie but my dad and brother did and they said it was very funny and all the trailors looked like it had a lot of fun himbo energy and i really think that fits. in terms of matching himbo disaster energy i think i’ve heard good things about comics hawkeye (not mcu). thor?

5. Aaron: Mr. Fantastic. now this might be a stretch but aaron is a character who uses a skin-deep veneer of anger to cover the fact that he’s actually quite pliant and bends to other people’s wills. and he’s a doctor or w/e. he could alse be like,, antman. he’s smart right? hank pym not paul rudd. katelyn can be wasp

6. Seth: Arm Fall Off Boy. no i will not elaborate. ..... ugh fine, but i'm using my favorite piece of superhero media of all time: x-men evolution, the one where they're all teenagers in public high school. seth can be lance alvers/avalanche who’s a bit of a jerk and has a lot of issues with authority and has a rivalry with cyclops very reminiscent of seth with kevin, but still there’s the recurring theme that he’s lashing out because of low self-esteem and a bad situation and he’s a surprisingly sympathetic character who i’m very fond of. his power is earthquakes but i think the name makes that pretty self-explanatory

7. Allison: Iron Man. cocky, bitchy, and rich rich rich. sounds like allison to me. then to elevate it a level higher: emma frost, rich bitch extraordinaire. also if allison had telepathic powers she would be unstoppable. plus one more bitchy, morally-gray blonde (but chaotic this time): Harley Quinn

8. Nicky: Okay so I do wanna give a quick shout-out to Northstar, the first openly gay comicbook superhero, who’s a speedster which I’d actually say fits Nicky pretty well. However, if i had to choose a superhero to represent nicky in presence and powers it would have to be Jubilee from x-men (... from what i’ve heard lol. i’ve never actually consumed any of her Media hahaha anyway) she’s a joyful, energetic presence and her powers are setting off fireworks which i think is a good balance of nicky being a supportive cousin-parent AND a chaotic train wreck garbage trash man. also gonna throw in johnny storm for a cheap 'flaming' joke

9. Renee: Thunder/Blackbird from Black Lightning bc she’s a fufkin lesbian lol. (i don’t watch the show but i do follow nafessa williams’s tag). now the fr ones i’m gonna do together because to me they have the same Vibes so i chose them for the same reasons. Wonder Woman and Storm who to me have the same reserved, impartial, regal energy. honestly ethereal and somewhat otherwordly, and quite literally goddesses. also op as hell. black widow and her “red in my leger” looking for redemption story also fits thematically.

10. Neil: okay lazy answer first: the flash or quicksilver. get it? because they run fast? and neil run too? yea i like to think i've proven myself to be better than such a surface level interpretation but worth the mention ig. so for srs now, mystique and her shape changing powers would be an interesting interpretation of neil's identity issues, but i wanna push it a step further. nightcrawler would actually be possibly the MOST interesting hero to apply to neil 1. because powers still very movement go fast place to place 2. because of the thematic focus on neil's unusual looks and the lengths he goes to hide them, very much in line with the way nightcrawler will use a hologram-projector in order to look human, yet in both cases it's only a surface-level illusion, and 3. his parentage. here, mary would be mystique, which i also think works very well considering mary seemed to be the far more effective chameleon on the run than neil, and also fits with her place as a morally grey character, as mystique herself is often a villain or an antagonist, with her own agenda and shadowy motives. then nathan matches well with nightcrawler's father: azazel, a literal demon, and also where kurt gets his appearance. it's a shockingly coherent narrative between the three of them. then, to also give neil some powers that aren't contingent on his fucked up geneology and rather on his own merit and abilities, Black Canary and her sonic voice parallel the way that neil began to anchor his identity and take ownership over himself through his voice and his sick roasts

and 1 extra, wymack: batman, on account of his altruism, his dedication to second chances, and his many, many adopted children

---

anon, ik it's been a sec since you sent this, so i hope it gets back to you. i had a fun time with it and it prompted like,,, 7 different au s that i'll never write

#Anonymous #txt #the foxes #im talkin #my posts

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ghostlyandcoastly · 4 years

Text

The Dusty (dramione marriage law fic)

Hi I posted my first real dramione fic (other one is probs dead and abandoned) last night I figured why not post it here too! You can read it on AO3 or read it below

Chapter One: Ginny brings the wine

Hermione returned to her flat drained of all energy. She was not a witch easily defeated. She fought Voldemort throughout her school years for Merlin’s sake! It took a lot for Hermione Granger to have the fight in her body and brain depleted. And this? This was what broke her.

She’d been in a twelve-round legislative battle. As a legislative aide to the Minister of Magic, one of the youngest and brightest, she’d been working against a certain bill. A bill Hermione saw as the end of peacetime. A bill that Hermione would go to her grave cursing. A bill Hermione thought immoral and suspect. It was a Marriage bill. Although she supposed now, she would have to come to terms with the fact it was now a Marriage Law.

She had made valiant legal and moral arguments. She had lobbied members of the Wizengamot. She had garnered support in the wizarding media. And yet, when the cards fell, she was on the losing side. She was not used to losing. It did not feel good.

The bill- the law, she corrected herself mentally- was called The Decree To Unite Wizarding Society Through Espousal (DUWSTE or “the dusty” as Ron and others had taken to calling it). It mandated that every unmarried witch and wizard ages 21 to 35 be married. Yet this was not the only mandate. It required pureblood wizards to marry muggleborns or first-generation half-bloods. And still, yet, this was not the most repulsive thing about the law to Hermione. The second most repulsive thing about this would be that the pairs would be determined by magic. The members of the Wizengamot who initially proposed this law had charmed a goblet (which reminded Hermione of the disastrous consequences of a certain goblet of fire in her fourth year) to spit out names “appropriately” matched. The pairs would be revealed in a ceremony in one week’s time. The worst item in the proposal- now law- was the Child stipulation. Couples must produce at least one magical child within three years of marriage. There were invasive measures to be taken which would determine levels of fertility and whether the couple has made attempts at the child-making process. Hermione found this despicable. No matter how sterile the language was, the details were reprehensible. The idea that any man or woman would be forced to stand by, having their privacy completely disregarded in such a crude manner was shameful.

Hermione accused the law of depriving wizards and witches of agency and publicly ridiculed the idea that whatever charm the proponents had placed upon the goblet would result in “loving and harmonious couples” as a farce.

But all of her fighting was for not because the bill had passed, although narrowly. She had been biting at her nails as the final votes were cast. When Wilhemina Walters cast her yay vote, Hermione had nearly broken down in tears. There were two more members to vote after that but Wilhelmina, one of the swing votes, had put it in the pocket of the bill’s proponents. Once the final result was called, (“The Decree to Unite Wizarding Society Through Espousal has passed the Wizengamot for immediate enactment. Notices to the relevant wizards and witches will be sent out on Monday via the Minister of Magic’s office. This session of the Wizengamot is hereby adjourned.”) Hermione fled from the chamber and found herself bent over the toilet, throwing up her guts like her lunch was slugs and she was Ron in second year.

Hermione shook her head as she felt another round of tears welling up. She could not believe this was happening. In one week, she would find out who she was marrying. Her mind drifted thinking of the possibilities. There were few men she actually liked and was comfortable around. There was obviously Harry and Ron whom she loved. But neither of them was an option. Harry and Ginny had been married a year and a half ago. Ron was engaged to Susan Bones as of seven months ago, prior to this bill being an issue. The Dusty (she was now resolved to not give it more respect than it deserved) had a stipulation that if you were engaged prior to the enactment of the law with proof of the date, you were not subject to the matching “service”. However, if you submitted a waiver under the engagement clause you must marry within three months of the enactment of the law. The other male friends she had were similarly tied up in relationships. Neville proposed to Hannah Abbott a month ago- not because of the law, but because they were in love. Although Hermione had her suspicions about whether Neville and Hannah rushed it because of the law. There was George who had eloped with Angelina Johnson (now Weasley) a few months ago. They both outright admitted that it was because of the law. They did not see any purpose of waiting if they were going to be forced to marry. There were Dean and Seamus but they’d been married since the day after the Battle of Hogwarts.

The only single male friend she had was Blaise Zabini. Zabini was also a legislative aide to the Minister of Magic. They’d fought together against the bill but he hadn’t been quite so invested. He proposed to her daily, knowing she was annoyed at the prospect of marrying not out of an abundance of choice and love. The proposals were never serious. Blaise had said if the bill passed, he was sure he could put up with whoever he was matched with. He knew he was charming and he didn’t really believe in true love after all. Blaise made fun of Hermione for being a closet romantic. She huffed but she knew it was true.

A knock at her door pulled her from her reverie. She made her way to the door without much enthusiasm. Looking through the peephole which glowed green for “safe and familiar”, she saw it was Ginny. She opened the door to her friend’s too bright expression.

“I have wine and I have chocolate. Let’s mourn the end of your singlehood.”

Hermione felt her eyes well up.

“Oh, no. Don’t do that. Drink!” Ginny shoved her way into her flat and pushed Hermione to the couch and went about getting wine glasses from the kitchen, leaving the large bag of chocolates on Hermione’s lap. Hermione sighed deeply before tearing into a hazelnut vanilla chocolate.

They spent hours gossiping about anything other than the law. They got drunk and they ate chocolate and called for takeout delivery. But once properly lubricated, Ginny broached the topic.

“Soooo… at least this means you’ll finally get laid again.” Ginny said with a slight but noticeable slur to her voice. Hermione, being a lightweight, had a loose enough tongue to not just shake her head at Ginny.

“No way! I don’t wanna get ministry-mandated-sex for the rest of my life! I should-” She hiccoughed. “I should have gotten laid more often.” She sighs.

“You should have. But you were too busy fighting the damn dusty to do much of anything except eat, sleep, and be dragged for-forcibibibily to social gatherings on the weekend sometimes by my husband and me.” Ginny finished her statement and Hermione was about to reply indignantly (she didn’t have to be dragged per se) but Ginny sat up abruptly. “I have an idea! An excellent idea!”

“Oh no. What?” Hermione knew to be on guard when drunk Ginny had an idea.

“You still have time! You have a week til you get your partner. Even then, who says you can’t have a fling before you get married? It’s not like it’ll be a particularly romantic relationship in the three months they give you to get to know each other before marrying you off.”

“You want me to have a fling?”

“I want you to get laid. I want you to have sex that you won’t hate. I know you. No matter how nice the guy is, how attractive he is, or how big his cock is, you won’t be satisfied with ministry-mandated sex!”

“That’s right at least. It’ll always be in the back of my mind that this is something that I didn’t want, that would be forced upon me.” She sighs, expecting tears to come but they don’t. Maybe she’d run out.

“So that’s that. Tomorrow we’ll go out for a girls’ night, inviting Luna and Susan and Hannah, that will result in you getting laid at some bloke’s apartment and us married and engaged folks will go home and get laid by our husbands-fiances.” Ginny lacked tact sober. When drunk, she certainly didn’t pull punches. “One, way to put a fine point on it. Two, you expect me to have a one night stand?” She said doubtfully. “How am I gonna find someone? I know all of wizarding London pretty much. I’ve been out with a couple of people and either they were deeply uninteresting or uninterested in me.”

“I doubt the latter was true for anyone, first of all. Second of all, we’ll go to a muggle club. You can have hot, completely noncommittal sex with a muggle and it’ll be fun! I promise!” Hermione looked at her friend with doubt, amusement, and a bit of insecurity in her eyes. “I promise!” Ginny repeats. With that, they move on to other topics but the idea Ginny has planted has taken root in Hermione’s mind. She had one week of freedom where she wouldn’t be government-mandated engaged. She’d spend it having fun and thumbing her nose at the ministry.

That had been a Wednesday night. Hermione woke up Thursday with a hangover and owled in sick for the day at work. She wasn’t ready to show her face. If she saw Joanna Gibson or Todd Travers, she might have punched their pretty little noses. Joanna and Todd were both legislative aides of Norris Baumbach, the senior member of the Wizengamot who was responsible for pushing the bill through. Hermione despised the two of them. Travers was the cousin of a convicted Death Eater and his Slytherin ambition was crystal clear to Hermione. Travers would do anything to clear his family name- and that included playing dirty, provided he wasn’t caught. Joanna Gibson was an obnoxious Ravenclaw half-blood who, while she wasn’t as dirty as Travers, was significantly more a bitch. Hermione didn’t want to see their smug expressions. All the legislative aides worked on the same floor and there would be no avoiding them once at the ministry.

She spent Thursday eating fast food and peanut butter cups. She watched The Notebook and caught up on a muggle romance novel she’d started months ago. She received several owls from friends with good wishes but she didn’t have the energy to respond. She promised herself she would wake up early tomorrow and reply but today was a day that she reserved for herself.

On Friday she woke up early like she said and responded to everyone.

To Harry, she wrote,

I’m fine. Ginny should keep her mouth shut. I know you’ll always be there for me and I appreciate it. I’m getting ready tomorrow at yours so we can talk more then. Love you.

To Ron and Susan (though the note from them had been distinctly Susan with a postscript distinctly Ron), she wrote,

I’m fine. I always knew it was a possibility. Love you guys. We should meet for lunch next week. Trust me, I’m determined to have this damn thing affect my life in the least amount of ways possible. Speaking of, Susan, would you like to join Ginny and a few others and me on a girls night out tomorrow? Also, Ron, I happily accept your offer to blow my future husband’s bits to smithereens if he lays an unwanted hand on me. Love you guys too.

She answered Luna, Kingsley, and Neville’s notes next before moving on to the final one. The one from Draco Malfoy. They rarely spoke. Malfoy was occasionally around the office when he came to visit Blaise and they had worked together once when Hermione was working on legislation that she needed a master potioneer’s help with. Hermione found him to be every bit as arrogant and obnoxious- though even she could see he was not the boy he once was. For one, he was very much a man, as loathe as she was to admit such a thing. Yes, Draco Malfoy had grown into his pointy features and his skin no longer looked unhealthy- though it was a far cry from tanned.

The note from Malfoy had been short and had sparked a fire in her that had previously been put out.

Granger,

Blaise tells me you owled in sick to work. Never thought you’d be so easily defeated. All these years of poking at you and you let a little thing like a ‘lowly despicable immoral’ law that cast shade on all our futures defeat you. Tsk, tsk. What’s that muggle saying? Don’t let the bastards get you down? Get back up, Granger.

She was irritated. She was mystified. She felt like she had been confunded. So she wrote back to the best of her ability.

Malfoy,

Firstly, you made an inaccurate assumption. I simply wasn’t feeling well. Don’t presume to know me. Secondly, why must you Slytherins be so shady about your meaning? I can’t tell where you stand on this law. You certainly never spoke out against it. Nor in favor of it. Though I’m guessing your bigoted little mind would be against it- poor Draco Malfoy could never sully himself with a muggleborn, surely it’d be beneath him. Curious that you didn’t speak out. Or did you just not want to be on the same side as me? Thirdly, you made a common muggle mistake. The actual phrase is don’t let the bastards grind you down. Don’t worry, happens to the best of us. Fourthly, I will be back at the ministry today but not simply because you told me to so don’t go getting a big head thinking your words of wisdom somehow prompted my miraculous recovery. Fifthly, why are you writing to me? What do you get out of this?

Sincerely sod off,

Hermione Granger

Hermione made a noise at the back of her throat, proud of her note but distinctly uncomfortable that Malfoy had contacted her about this. Even more so uncomfortable that he was encouraging her. Albeit in a very arrogant way. Could she expect anything different from Draco Malfoy?

She shook it off and hurried off to the ministry, determined to turn her legislative tide. She was at her desk for only a few minutes before Blaise sat down across from her and slid a steaming cup of coffee her way.

“Oh, bless you!” Hermione gushed.

Blaise smiled and replied, “I didn’t sneeze but you’re welcome.” Then his expression changed from jovial to sober which was a disturbing trend as Hermione had so rarely seen that change. “So how are you feeling?” Hermione huffed at this question. She’d probably be fielding it a lot for a little bit.

“I’m fine.” She insists. He gives her a look that says don’t lie to a liar. “I’ve made a plan. All I’ve ever needed was a plan.” Blaise snorted.

“You’re not running off with Potter to defeat You Know Who.” Even after all these years, many still wouldn’t say his name. No matter how often she would insist to Blaise that fear of the name blah blah blah. “You’re going to be married. And he could be the most charming bloke and you’re going to despise him. You’re not fine.”

“Ginny said something similar.” She blushed remembering Ginny’s comments about her mystery husband’s dick. “There’s nothing I can do about it now. There’s no more fighting it. At least not outright.” Blaise squinted in a very Slytherin manner.

“What exactly do you have planned Golden Girl?” He asked.

“Wouldn’t you just love to know.” She winked at him. He leaned back and grabbed his heart in a sarcastic but friendly manner. She laughed at his antics. “Back to work, back to work.” She made a shooing motion with her hand and he rolled his eyes at her.

Hermione was working on another Goblin fair pay bill because the last one had come out so toothless its supporters waned and its antagonists still voted no. Getting the Goblins to work with her on it had been a beast of a task in the first place. Now she had to go back to Moregi, the appointed Goblin liaison to the ministry, and beg for his cooperation once again. He was a cynical creature, to begin with, and with the latest defeat, he was growing more so. She couldn’t blame him though. It was rather defeating.

She shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. It seemed nothing was going right. She knew when she took the job that it would not be easy and she was not the kind of person who could leave work at the office and not pour every ounce of herself into what was in front of her. Before The Dusty, Hermione had fantasized about true love, being the closet romantic she was. She had dreamed of a partner to come home to, a partner who would make her want to leave it all behind her when she stepped through the floo. Her heart twinged as she kissed this fantasy goodbye. She’d be chasing work even harder than usual once she had her ministry-appointed husband in her ministry-assigned place of residence.

“So is that what you do all day to get it to look that way?” A distinctly arrogant voice pulled her out of her reverie.

“What are you on about this time Malfoy?” She groaned, not looking up. He came around from time to time despite not having any official ministry position. Malfoy was the first of the Malfoy men to take up an actual career that wasn’t flitting about in politics and investments. He was an apprentice to Ollivander. Hermione always did wonder about that relationship given that Ollivander had been trapped in his family’s dungeons.

“Your hands. Mussing about in the mess you call hair.” He drawled. She looked up at him and gave him a cruel look.

“I imagine your hands spend plenty of time in your hair, massaging the pounds of hair product into it.”

“Yes, and I imagine it would take absolutely massive pounds of hair product to tame your hair an inch.” He tossed back.

“Pounds can’t be massive. It’s a definitive measurement, you can’t qualify it.” She informed him, satisfied with herself. Malfoy opened his mouth to retort but found himself interrupted by his best friend.

“What are you annoying Granger about this time, Draco?” Blaise asked.

“Oh, we all know Granger’s apparent annoyance at me is all just an act for how much she fancies me.” Blaise raised an eyebrow at this. Malfoy just smirked.

“You possess the charm of an acromantula to me, Malfoy.” She put her head down, back to the legislative work that awaited her. Blaise laughed at his two friends and sat back with his feet up on his desk.

“What brings you this way, Draco?” Blaise asks.

“Checking to see that Granger hadn’t offed herself yet and to take you to lunch, Blaise.” Draco said casually. Hermione looked up sharply and stood in the next second.

“I’ll have you know I’m doing perfectly fine!” She’d reached her wit’s end of everyone treating her like she’d suffered a personal tragedy and Malfoy’s casually cruel comment set her off. “Or I will be, very soon.” She said more to herself than the two men in front of her.

“Ah, yes. The plan.” Blaise said.

“Yes. The plan.” Hermione turned up her nose, resisting the urge to stomp her foot.

“What plan are you referring to?” Draco asked Blaise, knowing he wasn’t likely to get a response out of her.

“She won’t tell me. Just something that involves her indirectly fighting The Dusty.” Blaise informed Draco.

“Zabini!” Hermione reprimanded. She didn’t need Malfoy peering into this. Meanwhile, Malfoy just scoffed.

“The language of the law is quite precise. You know it damn well. What could you possibly do?”

“I’m taking back control of my life.” She said vaguely.

“What does that mean?” Blaise asks, unable to resist a puzzle.

“It means… well…” She wasn’t sure how to continue this. But Malfoy’s eyes were challenging her and she was always up for a dare. A Gryffindor, indeed. “The law says nothing about a pre-marital fling.”

She waited while the boys digested this. Then they looked at one another and burst out laughing. This led to her hands situating themselves on her hips in a haughty manner.

“What is ever so funny?” Hermione hissed.

“Your plan is to become a hussy?” Malfoy smirked, still chuckling.

“Excuse you!” She nearly screeched, causing the few in the office to look over at them. Well, those that hadn’t been looking before.

“C’mon, Hermione. It doesn’t exactly seem like you.” Zabini added.

“Yeah. Come off it. Haven’t you already turned to ice and stone from the lack of taking control as you put it?”

“You don’t think I’m capable? Neither of you?”

“Of casual, adult fun? No, I don’t.” Malfoy shrugged.

“Not that you’re incapable… just not necessarily comfortable doing something like that.” Blaise countered.

“I-I! Well! I’ll have you both know that I am not some sexless amoeba. I am an adult woman perfectly capable and willing to have a tryst with a man.” She resolutely exclaims.

“Alright. I’m sure you are.” Blaise held up his hands innocently, admitting defeat. Malfoy had not gotten the stand down memo.

“Prove it.” He says.

“Excuse me?” Hermione balks.

“Come to the pub tonight. We’ll pick a fellow out and you have to seduce him. Unless you’re incapable and unwilling.”

“Well, as shocking as this may seem to a prejudiced fool like you, Malfoy, the plan is to go to a muggle club. I’ve found them to be much more attentive than wizards anyways.” She added the last part, trying to make him blush as much as he was her.

“Well you have fun with that, Herm-” Blaise is cut off from his peacemaking efforts.

“We’ll come.”

“What?!” Blaise exclaims.

“We’ll come to your muggle pub. Meet you at the Leaky at nine?” Malfoy challenges her. She squints at him, trying to determine his game here.

“Sure. If you can stand to breathe all those muggle germs.”

“You know nothing about me, Granger.” He says cryptically before turning to Blaise who looked stricken, an uncommon occurrence for him. “Ready for lunch?” Without another word, he turned and started walking out the door. Blaise sighed heavily and stood to follow him but stopped at Hermione’s desk.

“Do you want me to talk him out of this?” Blaise asked, giving away his secret that he is actually a good friend.

“No. It’ll do the both of you some good to experience some culture that’s not prickly wizarding society. And do me some good to the surprised look on your faces when I do snag a man.” Hermione said more confidently than she felt. Blaise smiled and kissed her cheek.

“I’m sure this will go swimmingly.”

Hermione slumped to her chair. She was really going to do this now, wasn’t she? The thought of The Dusty popped back into her mind- her reason for this whole plot to begin with. A twinge in her gut reminded her how sharp the loss still was. The nervous fluttering in her stomach reminded her how very trapped she felt by it all. But the solid beat of her heart in her chest reminded her that she was a Gryffindor and Malfoy had baited her- she wasn’t about to back down.

#dramione #marriage law fic

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sanders-sides-fic · 3 years

Text

Cousin’s support

2,868 words

triggers: implied death, cheating, cursing, being kicked out, mentioned toxic relationship, mentioned hate against polyamory (please let me know if I should add anything else)

It started with a tragedy.

Roman and Remus moved back into the cold, abandoned house about a year after it had happened. Not much had changed, but that surely didn’t help. The only reason they even still had the house was because their parents had bought the property and had the house built there, and it’d been payed off right away. Their parents hadn’t been rich, per se, but they had always had the habit of saving wherever they could so they didn’t have any debts to pay. They’d only been in debt once, and that hadn’t even been for more than three years. Roman and Remus had had… interesting parents, if you wanted to say it like that.

Anyways, the house was all theirs, and they didn’t have to pay rent. So, while both water and juice had been caught off without anyone to pay for it, the house was theirs still. The only problem was that there was a lot of renovating to be done. And both Remus and Roman were university students. In other words: Both twins were broke. Absolutely broke. That had been the reason Roman initially had the idea to rent some rooms out to friends, kind of a shared living kinda situation. Their friends had basically lived with them anyways. Patton, not liking the quiet of his often empty apartment, was thrilled at the idea. Logan has said that it was only logical, and since everyone of them would benefit he agreed.

Remus, however, said that it would only be fair on the condition that it meant he would be allowed to invite some of his friends as well. And Roman agreed, though not without hesitating. Not because he had anything against it as such, but because Remus had a habit of picking rather strange fellows as his friends. But the two that he choose were more than alright with Roman, and he suspected the older twin had taken Roman’s concerns into consideration.

Yes, Remy and Janus were alright. Remy was nice enough, tough a bit chaotic, and he wasn’t home most of the time anyways. How that man worked, slept and payed for all that coffee was beyond any of his room mates, but he was caring when it came down to it and fun to be around in general. And while Janus was a teasing, flirting, dramatic liar with enough flair to pass as a character on a broadway production and a never ending pool of sarcasm… Well, he had strict morals, though it was anyone’s guess what those were, and he made a point to almost force the others to take care of themselves. Even with - hopefully - empty threats, if needed.

And the six of them were surprisingly functioning rather well. They complimented each other, were there for each other, filled in wherever another one fell short, and made sure to pull each other out of harmful habits. Within five months after the house was renovated and they’d moved in for good none of them could imagine living without the others.

Until the 19th of December.

It was cold. Well, cold for Florida. 37 degrees weren’t exactly cold for winter anywhere else, but… Well, it was chilly with the wind blowing mercilessly and it was raining cats and dogs out there. So when someone knocked, at almost nine in the afternoon no less, they were all surprised.

They’d been sitting in the shared space and talked, throwing popcorn at each other as they debated Disney. But the knocking had sounded urgent, even though it had been just three knocks. It was Remy who stood up and went over, opening the door - and he gasped when he saw who it was. The others could see them as Remy still blocked the view, but if Remy had gasped like that it couldn’t be good. A lot of concerned glances were exchanged.

“Uh, hi… Hi, Remy.”, a voice hesitantly spoke up, almost a mumble. It was a rough voice and it sounded like they had been crying. Even less good.

“V?! What are you doing here? What… You didn’t walk here, did you?”, Remy cried out. Silence, but apparently they had answered one way or the other, because Remy gasped again. “Gurl, it’s raining. Scratch that, it’s pouring out there! You’re gonna die.”

“Gee, thanks. I hadn’t noticed.”, they said and one could basically hear the eye roll. Then there was a sigh. “I just… I didn’t know what else to do and… God, I feel so stupid, but… Can I, like, crash on the couch? If, if your room mates don’t mind? I just… You know, I just don’t know where to go.”

Remy didn’t even miss a beat before he answered: “Gurl, of cause. Come in!” And when he stepped to the side, he revealed a figure in dark clothing. His purple hair dripped from underneath the black and purple patchwork hoody he wore, his purple converse had to be drenched too and the black jeans clung to his legs. He was shivering ever so slightly and even with his head lowed slightly, you could see the way his eyeliner was running. The guy, V, gave Remy a doubtful glance but stepped in anyways.

“Wait here, I’ll go get a towel.”, Remy said to him as he closed the door. The guy nodded, not looking up. Then he turned to the other people in the room. “Would you guys mind making a coffee- no, not that. Tea? Uh, a hot chocolate? Something to warm him up.” Patton, of cause, nodded right away and jumped up.

The guy himself flinched at that, looking at Remy almost panicked. “Oh, no, that’s not… I don’t need-” But Remy was gone already and he cut himself off with a sigh. For a few moments he just stood there, shifting uncomfortably in the silence as Patton rummaged through the kitchen. Then he took a deep breath and looked over, a shaky smile playing with black lips. “Uh, hi? Sorry to just drop in on you. Uh… Janus. Remus. ‘s been a while.”

And Roman hadn’t noticed, but next to him Janus had been frozen and this seemed to snap him out of it. He’d never seen Janus jump up that fast, or reach out to someone with such a concerned look on his face, fingers hovering just above someone else as though he was afraid of them disappearing if he did. “Virgil?”, he whispered breathless. And the guy nodded, avoiding eye contact. “Virgil, what happened? Why are you here? You live on the other side of town and you… Is that blood?”

For a moment Virgil looked confused, but then a light seemed to dawn on him and he touched his left cheek, bringing his finger tips back red. “Oh. Oh! That fucker scratched me.”

“Who did? It wasn’t Jurij, was it?” That was Remy, coming back with a black towel in his hand and a few clothes of his own. Virgil hesitated, but nodded after a few seconds. For some reason, that seemed to make Janus angry. “Your boyfriend hurt you?” Virgil nodded again.

“Well… I mean, I don’t think he was thinking clearly or he wouldn’t have… God, why am I even defending him? He’s just… God! I hate him. I fucking hate him!”

Silence. It was Remus speaking up this time: “What happened?” Virgil glared at the wall for a little bit. Then he took a shuddering breath, fists clenched and tears welling up in his eyes.

“He cheated on me. Didn’t even leave the room to pick up her call. Got angry when I confronted him, said I had no right to be mad about it. So I broke up. And he… lost it. Slapped me, yelled, called me a pretentious slut, pushed me out the door and locked it. The neighbors eventually threatened to call the cops because of the noise, so I…”

“Walked here? In the dark? While it was raining?” Virgil nodded again.

“I would’ve called or taken the bus or something, but I don’t have my phone or money, so…”

“Shit. Shit, Virge, I’m so sorry. Do you want me… I can go over there and make them choke on their own blood, if you want.” Virgil cringed at Remus’ words. “Ah. I see you haven’t changed much.” Remus only flashed a grin that just looked way too proud.

“Well, you go change and dry up. Don’t worry, I got you covered. We’ll figure this out in the morning.”, Remy interrupted, patting Virgil’s shoulder. And Roman’s heart clenched when he saw the hesitant hope building in Virgil’s dark eyes. “You sure? I mean, I just panicked. I can figure out something else if you want me to, probably. I don’t… I don’t wanna be a bother.”

And Remy put both his hands on Virgil’s shoulders, looking deep inside his eyes and went: “No - Do you hear me? - fucking way.” And when Virgil didn’t look convinced yet, Remy placed his hands on his hips in what he called his “bitch, please”-pose. “How many times did you let me crash on your couch when I was drunk and lost? And even if ya didn’t, gurl, you’re family. Now, get your ass into the shower before you get a cold or, so god help me, I will smother the living hell out of you with blankets and cookies. Got it?”

Roman had never seen Remy showing his care fore someone so openly on his face. Not once. And Virgil quirked a smile and mumbled a thanks, before taking the towel and the clothes and vanishing into the bathroom. How he found it on the first try, Roman did not know. It usually took him ages to find the right door in his friends’ places, and Virgil hadn’t even asked for directions.

Janus stayed where he was, trembling in unadulterated rage, perfectly manicured hands clenched into fists tightly enough to color them white. “I’ll kill that asshole. I can’t believe him! Seriously. Pretentious slut? No right to be mad?”

“I share the sentiment, hun, but Virge wouldn’t approve, so no. Still… I knew that bitch was no good.”, Remy forced out, teeth gritted.

“Of cause not!”, Remus exclaimed in a high pitched screech, “You know what he said at the beginning. Every fucking word out of his mouth was either a lie or a red flag. I seriously don’t know why Virgy even liked him. He’s an asshole, and not the good kind either!”

Janus relaxed in what looked like defeat. “Yes, well, sometimes we accept the love we think we deserve.”

“That’s bull. Virge deserves so much more!”

“And you think I don’t know that?!” That was the first time he had ever seen Janus scream. Not raising his voice, literally screaming. “But he doesn’t. Besides, you study psychology, don’t you? So you should know very well what manipulation does to you.”

Silence.

“I think three of us are pretty confused right now. Mind telling us who this is?”, Patton asked from next to Roman, a mug of steaming hot chocolate with cream and sprinkles on top. He’d used his own, the glittery and colorful ones, and the food coloring had started to sip into the cream. It was a sign of how much Patton cared, even though he obviously didn’t know Virgil any better than Roman himself, and he wondered briefly if he’d heard what Virgil had said about his now-ex earlier. But mainly Roman wondered when the hell his friend had come back into the room.

“Yes, naturally.”, Janus said, because of cause it was Janus who managed to calm down enough to at least put on a calm facade first. “This just now was Remy’s cousin, Virgil Black. He used to go to school with Remus and I, and that’s how we became friends with Remy in the first place, frankly. Virgil is also the one Remy talks about when he says he won’t come home for the night because he’s staying at his cousin’s.”

“Virgy used to be closer to us back in high school.”, Remus took over, and such a soft voice was all wrong coming from Remus. “But his ex was a dick, and when we found out that he was a dick he decided to push Virgil away from us. Made us look like the bad guys and guilt tripped him and all that. It usually wasn’t that bad until we found out that…” At this point he shared a look with Remy, who nodded once. So Remus continued: “Well, Virgy is ace and polyamorous. And he hadn’t been out to anyone but his friend for a while, but suddenly the entire school knew. That was on him.”

“And as if that wasn’t bad enough, he called him a whore. Said being polyamorous meant he was easy, which is just… just, no. So we had a little intervention, and… Well, the bitch couldn’t cut me off because I’m his family and he wouldn’t ever leave his family behind, but-”

“-but he got Virgil to stop talking to us. Or any of his friends, as far as I heard.”, Janus sighed. Remy shot him a glare for the interruption, but nodded in confirmation.

“So, let me sum this up.”, Logan asked, eyes squinted and mouth pressed to a hard line. “Virgil is Remy’s cousin, who just get kicked out by his ex-boyfriend, who has double standards and considers it fair to cheat on him, after ending a toxic relationship. Said ex-boyfriend manipulated and isolated him, thus leaving you two unable to help. He has no where to stay and decided to turn to Remy, which lead him to walk to the other side of the city, at…” Logan glanced at the clock “nine p.m., in the rain. He is most probably emotionally scarred from this toxic relationship, and might feel insecure about his romantic orientation. Did I miss anything?”

Three people shook their heads. Roman took the chance to glance at his room mates. Remus looked angry, Remy looked defeated, Janus looked absolutely heart-broken (which was just such a wrong expression on his face), Patton had pressed one hand on his mouth in horror as silent tears feel down his face, and Logan, well, Logan looked absolutely furious.

He himself felt all of those feelings as well.

“I usually showed up unannounced. Otherwise Jurij would schedule something there so I couldn’t come. And whenever I brought up that Virgil might want to leave him… Virgil would never talk about it, but whatever he said made him ignore all my calls and stuff for a week at least.”, Remy sighed, plopping back onto the couch and running his hand through his hair. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

“I agree. Although the end seems to have come in a suboptimal form, from the sounds of it that may prevent him from coming to future harm.”, Logan agreed, his voice still angry but also achingly soft.

It was quiet for a little bit, the shower running the only noise in the entire house. Then Remus looked at Roman, and - dear Shakespeare - he couldn’t stand his twin’s usually bright and mischievous eyes being filled with such a pleading look. “I know we said both of us were allowed to invite two friends each, but…”

Roman knew what he was asking. And even if the way Remus looked at him hadn’t been enough to convey the urgency of this request, Roman wouldn’t have dreamed of saying no. He’d want to help Virgil no matter what. So he gave his brother a soft smile. “We never figured out what to do with the room on the end of the hallway, anyways.”

Remus’ face lit up instantly and Janus and Remy looked just as excited. Patton nodded with so much urgency that it made all of them chuckle lightly. Logan rightened his already perfectly positioned glasses and hummed in agreement. “It does seem to be a good decision. If he’s related to Remy and friends with both Janus and Remus I don’t see a reason to mistrust him. And splitting the power and water bill with one more won’t do any harm either. So, as long as Virgil himself agrees…”

Remy laughed at that. “Oh, don’t worry. He won’t, but I’ll get him to understand it’s not a bother sooner or later.”

And Remy was right.

So, while it had started with a tragedy that had left both Roman and Remus with an empty place in their hearts, Roman was happy with what had come from it. Six room mates he adored and, as he watched Janus straightening out nonexistent wrinkles in his shirt for the tenth time at least, next to Logan nervously scanning through a novel, and as he saw Virgil coming down the stairs, giving the two of them a smile… Well, Roman was happy for them. Even though the rest of the house had had to suffer through some serious obliviousness and flirting disguised as arguments. It had been worth it in the end, though.

Seeing three of his best friends going on their first date was worth all of it.

General tag-list: @gattonero17

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #mentioned anxeitmus #only in the end tho #human sanders sides #sander sides au #human au #tw implied death #tw manipulation #tw cheating #tw being kicked out #tw toxic relationship

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