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ninamitoo · 3 years

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FALLING

HPhogwartsmystery - Talbott Winger x Reader

Author‘s note: This is supposed to be a one-shot but since there aren’t many stories about Talbott x reader I’ll be posting 2nd and 3rd part (if you’ll be interested). Also English isn’t my first language so sorry if there are any mistakes.

Wordcount: 1200

Pairing: Talbott Winger x reader / MC / Y/N (your name)

I first became aware of Talbott Winger thanks to a coincidence. Back than I had never imagined that this boy could get under my skin so quickly. I could say it all started thanks to Tulip.

It was a normal day. I came to the Great Hall and saw Tulip standing with Barnaby at the very end. The sight of the two of them together was more than unusual, so I decided to investigate.

”Hi Y/N. Barnaby and I were just discussing Talbott Winger.” Tulip greeted me. When I asked who he is the answer was “a Ravenclaw who keeps to himself.”

”They also say his dad is a vampire, and his mum is a mermaid!” Barnaby joined the conversation with a disturbing look on his face. Looks like I'm not the only one with strange rumors circulating around school. What actually caught my attention was the fact that he’s attempting to brew an Animagus Potion. Since the first lesson with professor McGonagall I have dreamed about becoming an Animagus myself. Maybe if I talked Talbott into brewing an extra Animagus Potion for me, I can finally fulfill one of my dreams. Not to mention how much easier it’d be to sneak around school in animal form…

”He’ll shut you down.” Tulip crushed my completely bulletproof plan. ”It might be best to ask around about him first…“ Suggested Barnaby. Since it was a good idea I started asking about Talbott everyone who was still in the Great Hall. Unfortunately, he was sitting a few feet away from me, and as I found out later, he heard everything.

”If you want to know something about me, just ask.“ He says as soon as I sit across from him. He took me by surprise. Not knowing what to say I blurted out the first thing which came to my mind: ”How did you know I was talking about you?“

”My hearing is almost as good as my eyesight.“ He asnwers without any emotion. ”Besides, I’m used to people talking about me.“ How can I relate to that… I decided not to beat around the bush and straightforward asked if he was brewing an Animagus Potion, however he denied it. His cold response told me not to push any further and with a quiet sorry to bother you, I got up to leave. His next sentence stoped me. ”Is it true you sneaked into Filch’s Office?“ Not wanting to incriminate myself, I lied. ”No. Why? Do you want to get in?“

”I’m collectong things for a mutual friend of ours.“ He vaguely answered. ”We have a mutual friend?“

”You’re probably surprised I have any friends at all…“ Did I just hear a hint of pain in his voice? ”No, not really. Everyone has friends and with everything I’ve seen at Hogwarts, nothing surprises me anymore.“ I shruged with my shoulders to seem like I don’t really think much of it, but in reality I secretly hoped my answer will comfort him. I don’t know why, but I don’t want him to be sad. ”We’ll see about that.“ Talbott said. A little smirk appearing on his face.

”What do you mean?“

”Let’s go Y/N L/N. You can show me how you definitely did not sneak into Filch’s office.“ And just like that I fell into a trap called Talbott Winger. With each passing day I wanted to know more about him, what he likes, what is he doing. When I was able to conjure a smile on his face, it was the best feeling I had experienced. Much better than when we won first Quidditch Cup. But… He didn’t saw me as a friend. Not until I pushed him into allowing me to help find his lost necklace. That’s when he finally admited, he sees me as a friend. As someone he can trust and rely on. When I heard him say these words, my heart made a few somersaults. In that very moment I realised I don't fancy him anymore. I have totally fallen for him.

*******

One particular night I couldn’t fall asleep. I decided I’ll tire myself out by going on a fly around the castle. After putting on a sweatshirt and shoes, I shifted into my animagus form and flew through the open window. After flying for several minutes I noticed a very familiar looking eagle heading fot the owlery. With a graceful movement of my wings I change direction and follow my new friend. When I land, I transform back into my human form, but Talbott still remains in his animal. He is resting on one of the loose perches, looking at me curiously.

”I couldn’t sleep.“ I answer his silent question, taking a few steps forward, shortening the distance between us. His feathers shine beautifully in the moonlight. I couldn't resist the urge to touch his plumage. I lightly touch the side of his wing.

”Your feathers looks really beautiful.“ I whisper into the dark night not entirely sure if I didn't cross the border. His pupil narrows in surprise. His body gets surrounded by a yellowish glow, and I realise too late that he is transforming back into his human form. Surprised, I don't have time to dodge and within a second I find myself face to face with his firm chest. His pleasant scent immediately surrounds me, and I realize that I am absorbing it voraciously in an effort to remember it. He must have noticed. This got awkward really quickly… With a shy sorry i take a few steps back and look up at him. His look took my embarrassment to a whole new level. He was covering his face with his hand, furiously averting his gaze. Is he blushing?

”Did you…“ His voice was a pitch lower than usual. After clearing his throat he looked down at me. Yep, he was definitely blushing. ”Do you really think that?“ I felt my cheeks begin to burn. ”Yes… I do.“ I honestly answer unable to look him in the eye. The last time I confessed my feelings it didn’t go exactly well. Thank goodness I erased his memories.

”Do I look good only in my Animagus form?“ He asks. Something in his voice forced me to look at him. He was serious. He needed to know. The request in his eyes told me I have to tell him the truth. Now or never.

With a shaky breath I compose myself. ”No. I think you look very handsome every time I see you.“ After hearing my response his cheeks darkened with deep red. A mischievous grin curls his mouth into a smile. Why does he looks like he just won?

”Good to know.“ He simply answers lovering himself to my heigh. He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear with his hand, looking directly into my eyes. His hot breath tickled my lobe. ”I think you look absolutely gorgeous yourself.“ And with that, he transformed back into an eagle and left.

The heart impetuously beats for the boy who just gave her hope.

”Falling in love with him I hadn’t expected. But being in love with him is something I couldn’t stop even if I tried.“

#talbott #talbottwinger #hphm #hphm imagine #talbott x mc #talbott x reader #talbott x you #hphm jacobs sibling #jacobs sibling #hp #harry potter #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hogwartsmystery #talbottimagine #talbott winger imagine

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castiel-left-his-mark-on-me · 3 years

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Hi, I'm not very well versed in this site, but I know people can ask you questions and I wanted to share my concerns about Misha and hear what you think about this. He recently got a Cameo account and I'm obviously watching every Cameo he's making for others (I can't afford one for myself, but it's ok, I love just being able to watch him rambling!). In one of the latest he says: "I only just recently learned that I can lean on people when I have a hard time" (sorry, it might be inaccurate because English isn't my native language). That means that recently he's had (or maybe he's still having, if his appearance is enough of an indication) a hard time. What do you think? I'd love to support him in one way or another, but I honestly don't know how.

You know, whenever it comes to Jensen or Misha, or anyone who’s in the limelight, I always ask myself “What would I mean if I said this?”

I relate to Misha a lot. We had similar upbringings and his world-view seems to align with my own, so I feel like I can read him pretty well (obviously I can be wrong, but I have often been right in the past about my perspective on him, so take that as you will). With that particular statement-- him only “just realizing” that he can lean on people, I don’t think he means it quite as literally as it sounds. I think that he means that in the last ten years or so-- the span of his middle-aged life, he’s begun to see that being a wise, well-rounded adult isn’t just empathizing with others and making sure you’re cultured, it’s looking very closely at your own life and prioritizing your own needs for once. That’s something I am just starting to figure out myself, and I could see myself saying the same thing if asked ... I am only just realizing that I can lean on the people close to me.

Misha is very open and honest with everything he shares with us (when he’s not fucking with us for shits and giggles) but that doesn’t mean he shares everything. I think he’s very careful about what he says and how he says it, and he mentally maps out his statements ahead of time (people who’ve suffered a lot trauma in their life, tend to do that). Yes, some statements can still be taken multiple ways-- like the one you asked me about, but in general, they’re vague enough, while still being honest enough that he can feel good that he’s being open while still maintaining his privacy. So, overall-- yeah, I’m sure he’s had hard times recently, just like we all have, but I don’t think he was thinking of something specific when he said that in the Cameo. I think he was thinking in very general terms-- that in the last ten-plus years, he has found that whenever he struggled-- he could lean on his wife if he needed to instead of internalizing all his stress and anxiety. He could open up to Jensen and Darius about his fears, and all the other people he’s close to in his life, can be relied on if needed. He can expect them to be there for him, just like he’s there when they need help. That’s a life lesson we can all conceptualize at a much younger age, but at least-- in my own personal experience, it’s not something that’s really practiced until we’re much older.

Being vulnerable is hard, and it takes time, practice and experience to really allow your walls to come down.

I think Misha was talking about his own personal growth and nothing more, so I’d just be happy for him and be grateful he’s including us in his truth-- even if it’s just in a general way.

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star-wars-scribbles-ff · 3 years

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Where I Belong | Chapter 5

Story Summary: The only family she’d ever known gave her a name; back when she belonged to something. But when that family is lost, she leaves it all behind. When destiny drops her in the last place she ever wanted to be, she has to earn back the trust and respect of the Republic that left her to die. Caught between the Jedi and the Grand Army of the Republic, she’ll discover where she belongs.

Fandom: Star Wars | Galaxy Far Far Away

Rating: T+

Story Genre/Warnings: action/adventure/found family | war violence, death, torture, discrimination, alcohol consumption, angst, fluff, found family, lots of clone boys, (spans the whole clone war) eventual Order 66 and rise of the Empire

Words: 3,205

Disclaimer: Majority of properties within this fanfic are owned by Lucasfilm/Disney. My OCs, as well as a few other things within this fanfic are of my own creation. Republic Cog header/chapter divider made by me 😊

Taglist: @divergent-llamas-03 @thisistheendtimes @tallyquark @your-very-rude-neighborhood-ace @remadster @808tsuika

CHAPTER NOTE: Planned on making this a May 4th chapter update but time got away, not really proof read, I remembered I’m pretty much writing this for myself, and this chapter is kind of short so... sorry me I guess lololol.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter | Arwen Corcer Mercenary Visuals Art | Arwen Corcer - Past Lives Art

Anakin Skywalker considered her in silence. Do I look dead, sir? Was that a jab? Just a statement- a question? Her aura was giving him nothing; it was calm, collected, but under the surface bubbling with a scrambled mix of emotions that he couldn’t decipher. Not just anyone could mask that from a Jedi. It made him uneasy.

“... What’s your CT number?” He asked, posture straightening as he crossed his arms.

The look she turned on him was almost amused as she looked him up and down for a moment, brow knit before she raised an eyebrow.

“My CT number? What- do I look like a clone to you?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Anakin quickly found his voice turning almost impatient. It wasn’t intentional, but perhaps a defense against this situation which he wasn’t the slightest prepared for. He’d buried this. Having it drop back in on him like this wasn’t something he wanted to welcome with open arms.

He narrowed his eyes at her lack of reaction as she continued to eye him before her gaze fell to the table. Her ease and calm nature regarding her situation pushed a button he didn’t know he had, and it irritated him. The only thing that brought him solace was that despite her seemingly tranquil exterior, he could sense she was harboring a restlessness. One he was having trouble deciphering, but all the same it was there.

Considering her posture, he noted her body language gave away very little. Somewhat defensive, but not overwhelmingly so; her arms were rested in her lap, shoulders slightly caved inward, but still relaxed. She looked like a mercenary by her attire. The chest and torso plates she was wearing had notes of old republic craftsmanship; it wasn’t a commonly worn style anymore. Her shoulder plates also had unique craftsmanship, but he didn’t recognize them.

A few dried splatters of blood covered her left shoulder plate, where her head injury was making itself known. She’d need medical attention; something he wasn’t looking forward to as she’d need to be transferred to the medical facility onsite. He needed very little to tell him she was dangerous. She lacked a boastful ego, and that only increased the likelihood that she possessed a deadly skill set. Moving someone like that around should be avoided at all costs, but a head injury was cause for concern. Thankfully, that was something to consider later on. For now, he had to worry strictly about interrogation of the individual.

Part of him was uncertain of how to proceed. She would be on the GAR database, it was just a matter of whether he’d be able to access the material. Surely he’d be able to. He vaguely remembered seeing her file, but he didn’t remember enough details.

“What was the nature of your assignment on Garo IV.” He questioned. Only way forward was to strike the connections they had present. While the mission wasn’t related, it was the only string he could pull. Waiting for an answer was how he had spent eighty percent of his time during interrogations. Maybe pulling this string would get her talking a bit more.

When she met his eyes, he raised an eyebrow as she put off giving him a verbal response. He really didn’t have the patience for interrogations. Obi-Wan knew that and would usually have him conduct them because of said fact.

“What unit were you with?” He tried, adjusting his crossed arms over his chest as he stood at the opposite side of the table from where she was seated.

“I’m not at liberty to disclose details regarding my assignments nor my former position with the Republic Military.” The monotone of her voice surprised him as she leaned back in the chair and met his gaze once more. “Sir.” The tone of her voice was laced with sarcasm, unamused sarcasm but it was becoming more obvious she was going to make this harder for him.

He found himself giving the smallest hint of a smirk. Two could play the game.

“Well then, make yourself comfortable. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon.” He noted before stepping forward to lean one hand on the table, the other coming to rest on his belt.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about before you’re inevitably arrested for treason against the Republic.”

Rex had watched the footage multiple times now, and it pulled him in opposite directions. This should be an easy case, but every time he came to that conclusion, something knocked him upside the head screaming that it wasn’t. Cody seemed to be in a similar position.

He glanced at his brother, noting the gears seemingly turning in his expression as he lowered his gaze from the footage they were reviewing.

“What're you thinking?”

Any other Commander, and Rex would’ve addressed them properly; but this was Cody. He’d known Cody all his life. He was more than just a superior officer, he was a brother - his brother - and they rarely ever used formal addresses around each other. He knew Cody felt the same way towards him.

“This won’t be cut and dry.” His expression stoic, the Marshal Commander finally let his eyes fall from the footage before he turned and took a few steps to the adjacent table where the sack of explosives resided.

“Facial recognition picked up the other one.” Rex informed his brother before letting out a quiet sigh as he turned his gaze towards the hall leading to the interrogation room. “Your average mid ranking merc in the underworld. This one on the other hand...” Rex gestured to the holoscreen on the computer station against the wall. The footage played over and over again; the image of the mercenary they had in custody knocking Cody out of the line of fire did little to lesson Rex’s caution. “Still no hits. I don’t like it.”

“Do you think it was an act?” Cody questioned, turning to meet the eyes of his comrade.

“What part exactly?” Rex leaned back against the table, partially seated on the edge.

The shift in the Commander’s eyeline back towards the footage answered Rex’s question as he looked to the holoscreen as well. The footage looped over and over, and Rex took a few moments to analyze the moment when the merc pushed his brother out of the line of fire.

“W- Do you think it was sincere?” Rex tried to suppress his chuckle but it slipped out. It wasn’t something he had considered. He’d honestly been avoiding thinking about her motive to push Cody out of the way. It seemed that’s all Cody was thinking about however.

“She said ‘sorry sir’... to me.” Cody responded.

“Sir?” Rex emphasized while raising an eyebrow. “Alright I admit that’s- odd. But what’s your point, Cody. She still infiltrated this base with a sack full of explosives. I think the intent is clear.”

“Gentlemen,” The announcement of the Jedi’s presence caused Rex and Cody to briefly stand at attention.

“General Kenobi,” Cody greeted his superior with a courteous nod of his head and Rex gave a similar gesture as Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi walked through the blast doors.

“I apologize for the lateness of my arrival, Cody.” Obi-Wan dipped his head towards Cody as the Jedi came to a stop in front of the two troopers. “I did receive your transmission. Have there been any developments on our intruders?”

“Yes sir,” Cody responded, taking a couple steps closer to the holoscreen at the computer station, giving it a small gesture with his hand. “We’ve got a hit on one of them, I was going to get your confirmation on a warrant. The other however isn’t coming up on civilian or criminal databases.”

“Neither?” Kenobi questioned, taking a step closer to watch the footage quietly.

“No sir,” Cody gave Obi-Wan the response as he went to open the satchel on the far table, Rex loosely at his side. “Both had one of these. This belongs to the one we have in custody.”

“Skywalker is doing the interrogation?” Obi-Wan inquired, eyes on the footage. His brow knit gently and one brow twitched up with curiosity as he watched the footage of the criminal they had in custody.

“He is, sir.”

Silence followed closely behind Cody’s words as the two Officers waiting for the Jedi’s next move. Rex glanced briefly at his brother, hands loosely at his sides, but a subtle tension remained in his posture. This was a new problem, one they hadn’t encountered before.

General Skywalker was being oddly distant with this mercenary in custody. Usually an Officer would accompany on interrogations, however the General had made it clear that he wanted to handle this one alone following some sort of revelation. Whatever it was, Rex knew it complicated matters to some extent.

“If you’ll excuse me, Commander, Captain,” General Kenobi turned to the Clone Officers. “I will have a word with Skywalker.”

“Let us know if you need anything, sir.” Cody was quick to respond and Rex backed up his brother’s words with a nod.

Once the General excused himself, Rex took a couple of steps closer to the Commander and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Why wouldn’t she come up on any database?” Rex mumbled the question privately to Cody. “It doesn’t make sense. Not even facial recognition picked anything up prior to the last few months. She’s a ghost.” Rex shook his head in subtle disbelief, brow knit tightly.

His arms already crossed, Cody reached up with a hand to lightly touch his chin as he thought quietly.

“I was hired to hit this location. I don’t know who, I didn’t get a name, but I suspect it came from a long chain of people most likely working for the Separatists.” The mercenary explained.

“Do you mercenaries normally just take jobs and ask questions later?” Anakin inquired, causing the girl’s eyes to narrow.

“It was a closed door job; information was kept private until they pulled people in for the job. If I hadn’t taken it they would’ve shot me then and there.” She muttered the explanation, defensive frustration subtly laced through her voice.

“Considering the way to shoved that Officer out of harm's way - I take it you prefer to hurt from a distance. Not too soft to do the dirty work up close are you?” He pushed further, much to his contempt as she visibly clenched her jaw and hardened her glaring gaze at him.

“Anakin, might I remind you of the reliability of using more friendly tactics during interrogation?”

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin carefully greets his old Master as the Jedi enters the cell.

“Might I have a moment with you outside,” Kenobi gestured briefly towards the cell door.

Anakin grumbled before reluctantly leaving alongside the Jedi Master. This was not a good look for an interrogator.

Once on the other side of the cell’s energy shield door, Obi-Wan and Anakin made their way down a few cells to get some space from everyone.

“Now, what is this all about?” Obi-Wan inquired, crossing his arms across his chest. “I left the base for one day and-”

“This isn’t just some mercenary, Master.” Anakin cut to the chase rather quickly but begrudgingly hesitated for a moment. “I can’t believe I am saying this- but she was one of us.”

“I beg your pardon?” Obi-Wan’s brow was knit tightly, a clear expression of confusion marked his face before Anakin went to explain.

“This happened a few months ago; shortly after I became a knight. The battle group I was with near Sundari. Master Krell was dealing with forces on the planet surface when I picked up a distress signal from a Clone Team on Garo IV. They asked for extraction; said they had vital information. I’m not sure exactly what kind but…” Anakin trailed off as he remembered the day.

Kenobi eyed his former padawan for a time before giving a small nod of reluctant understanding.

“And where does this mercenary come into play?” He inquired, gesturing forward with a hand.

Anakin met his Master’s eyes for a time before looking away once more.

“She was the one that sent the distress signal, Master.”

Once the Jedi left the cell, Arwen let herself slump back into her chair. Jaw relaxing she muttered under her breath before briefly closing her eyes, squeezing them shut for good measure to briefly combat the pain of her head injury.

This isn’t good. I have to get out of here before this spirals.

If she tried to escape, it would make things worse long term. The situation couldn’t get much worse from here, at least not in regards to her relationship with the Republic. The worst thing that could happen to her is imprisonment. Right now her reputation was what she was most concerned with.

Corcer relaxed her brow, trying to soften the pressure that had been building in her head before she took in an audible breath and slowly let it out.

Of all the Jedi that could be dealing with this… It just had to be the one that one.

He could either make matters better or worse. She’d have to suck it up regardless.

At the mere thought of it, Arwen clenched her jaw, unable to hide the snarl of an expression that threatened to appear.

Jedi. There were few she thought below them. A twisted organization. Sure they had a few good ones here and there, but they were the biggest problem with the Republic. She’d rather shoot herself now and get it over with than roll over and play dead in this interrogation but… She had somewhere to be and had things to do.

As long as this di’kut doesn’t try to mention the team, I’ll be fine.

Silencing her thoughts, Arwen looked to the cell door and waited for someone to reappear. Her intent gaze only increased as she tried to silence the thoughts at the back of her mind. Seconds turn to minutes before she finally feels her shoulders begin to relax and her eyes fall.

…. The team…. My team.

Her chest tightened as she caught herself subconsciously distancing herself from the painful memories of her old life.

You can’t do that. No matter how much it hurts. If you don’t remember them, no one will.

Obi-Wan processed this information quietly for a time before finally meeting the eyes of his former padawan.

“And you’re certain this is her?”

“I’m positive, Master. She already confirmed it to me; reluctantly I might add.” Anakin responded.

The two make their way back down the hall and pass the mercenary’s interrogation cell before turning down the hall towards where Commander Cody and Captain Rex resided.

“We can continue her interrogation later. For the time being, we need to continue our prevailing investigation.”

Anakin fought the urge to roll his eyes but let out a grumbled huff before rubbing the back of his head as they entered the open room.

“Master-”

“You and I both know that intel may be critical, Anakin.” Obi-Wan reminded the younger Jedi with a somewhat stern tone. “If the Separatists get ahold of it-”

“We’ll have problems. I know, I know.” Anakin put his hands up before letting them fall. “Pirate scum.” Skywalker muttered under his breath, shooting a brief look around the room towards where Cody and Rex resided cataloging another sack of items from the mercenary. “They’re all talk, this info could just be putting us on a wild bantha chase.”

“And if it’s sincere?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and waited for his former padawan to concede in his weak reluctance to pay the investigation the attention it needed.

Anakin didn’t hide the roll of his eyes before giving a nod. “Understood, Master.”

The Jedi didn’t come back. Something Arwen wasn’t necessarily against. However as she was escorted down the hall by a Clone squad, she found herself almost disappointed she wasn’t able to speak with the Jedi.

It was becoming clear to her that she needed to talk with them to make any progress, but her anger- maybe even mild hatred towards them- kicked at her to not wish to be stuck in such a situation.

“Destination?” Arwen chanced speaking up, and was surprised when she got a response.

“Jail cell for temporary holding until interrogation continues.” The Clone a few paces in front of her on her right responded, not sparing her a glance as he continued to walk down the corridor.

Arwen looked to the ground and nodded to the side.

Better than silence I suppose. That means they still plan on talking to me. Good.

The quiet sound of conversation perked her ears and as they continued walking, it grew louder, and the voices grew clearer.

One of them was the Jedi she’d spoken to - Anakin as the other Jedi had called him. And the other one was Obi-Wan. The names were familiar unfortunately, and now she had faces to put to the names. Practically celebrities as far as the Republic was concerned. Forget the Holovid stars, Jedi Knights were it since the war had started.

Arwen’s gaze found an open room coming up on the left and she looked inside to find the two Jedi on opposite ends of a holotable looking hologram of an individual she actually recognized.

The fact made her stop, much to the surprise of the two clones behind her as one of them ran right into her with a grunt of surprise.

“Sir,” She called out to the Jedi, either one of them.

They both looked over, each with a look of mild confusion before Arwen went to continue talking.

“Is that Jiro Tuck?” She inquired, her eyes briefly dwelled on the hologram before turning to the bearded Jedi.

“You know of this individual?” He was the one she hadn’t seen much of, Obi-Wan as the dark haired Jedi, Anakin, had called him.

“Yes sir,” Arwen responded, glancing to the clone escort which she could tell was getting agitated. “If you’re looking for either him or his brother- I might have a few leads. I’ve been hired to find him before.”

The butt of a blaster was suddenly knocked into her back and Arwen caught her footing gracefully before looking over her shoulder at the helmeted trooper.

“Keep moving,” He snapped before ushering her forward with his rifle.

Arwen looked towards the Jedi once more before complying with the Clone escort, continuing down the hall.

They took her down to the holding cells and placed her in an empty cell. From the look it was vacant; she was the only one there.

Once the cell door closed, the troopers walked away and Arwen found herself sitting down on the metal platform that acted as a cot.

Ok. Seed planted. You better be able to deliver on that.

She had done work with the pirate before. Whatever he was involved in though would probably only bring her more heat from either the Separatists or the Republic, neither of which she wanted.

Either way… She needed to find a way out. This looked like her only option. If she played her cards right, she might be able to get out of this.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter | Arwen Corcer Mercenary Visuals Art | Arwen Corcer - Past Lives Art

Chapter Note: If anyone is reading this I hope you enjoy I suppose. Again- wasn’t proof read so.... sorry for the grammar errors. Might fix it... Might not. Probably won’t.

#my writing #star wars fanfiction #clone wars fanfiction #star wars ocs #clone wars ocs #captain rex #commander cody #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #clones #clone ocs #grand army of the republic #coruscant #republic military #jedi

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dracosearlgreytea · 4 years

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indelicate marks (5)

indelicate marks: chapter five - the first lesson

A/N: here is chapter five! if you have had enough patience to get to here i am very proud and i thank you for putting up with so many arguments haha but dont worry very soon we shall be getting to the juicy stuff! its only the beginning! lots of love - ivy

warnings: language, pretty awful bullying, implications of suicidal thoughts, draco being mean, everyone is mean, but especially draco (im sorry)

lovely tags: @h-annahayy @okaydraco @fanficflaneuse

indelicate marks index

Undeniably, you were utterly and completely terrified of Occlumency. The entire act of it threw you back into the Easter holidays of your previous year at Hogwarts. Hours and hours of having your parents force their way into your mind, digging through every memory and every thought. Every time it left you sobbing, shaking, begging for them to stop, often having to run to the bathroom and turn out your stomach. They were two strangers, really. You'd been a year old when they'd been sentenced to life in Azkaban. Two strangers, rummaging around in your head. You were equally terrified of having to let Draco rummage through it, too. After having counted down every day till your decided meeting, there was a slight tremor in your hand to compliment the nausea sitting in your stomach as you climbed the shifting stairs. You were grateful that everyone was in the Great Hall and wouldn't be able to see the direction you headed. Not that anyone would take notice. Not unless they'd found some new threats to hurtle at you, anyway. Although you tried very hard not to, you seemed to have taken up a new habit of paying attention to Draco and his ever worsening appearance over the past few weeks. It was as though he got more and more exhausted every day, and whilst you could feel a very similar phenomenon within yourself, the fact that Draco Malfoy was so concerned about... Whatever it was he was dealing with, was making you - as much as you loathed to admit it - worry. Not just for whatever chaos would surely ensue from it. Of course, it was bound to be related to the mark on his arm, which only made you worry more. What the hell had happened to him over the summer? Worrying about Draco and whatever his involvement with the Dark Lord was only seemed to make your own anxieties multiply. It was a spiral, a steep and downward spiral, that left you with that constant sick feeling. It was as though you were falling, slowly and quickly all at the same time. You had a million questions for him that you would never allow yourself to ask, and he would most certainly not ever answer, but they echoed in your mind into the night, keeping you tossing and turning in your bed. Did he take it willingly? No, surely not, or he wouldn't have been crying about it that time in the bathrooms. Would Draco have just let someone give him that mark? And who did? Does Voldemort have to give each Deatheater a mark individually? Oh, shit, what if I have to actually meet the Dark Lord? No, that doesn't make sense... On, and on. Hesitation overcame you as you finally arrived outside the classroom door and you had to take a deep breath to settle your nerves before you pushed it open. Dust shifted in the air as you entered, illuminated by the days last light, which flooded in through the broken, tinted windows. Desks still sat in rows, facing a chalkboard that would most likely never been used again, papers scattered and worn into the floor beneath your feet. "You're late." The drawl of an increasingly familiar voice still made you jump, and your eyes flicked to the edge of the room opposite you. You'd almost missed him, where he sat on the edge of a desk, partially hidden by the shadows. His wand hung from his fingers, and he flicked it up absentmindedly. "Colloportus." Behind you, the door clicked, locked. "Was that really necessary?" You muttered, edging away from the door, trying to ignore how the action made your heart rate increase. There was no escape. You were now locked in a room with Draco Malfoy - who, was about to delve into your most private thoughts - and was also a Deatheater. He washed his grey gaze over you, eyes finally coming to meet yours piercingly, sending a small shiver down your spine. "Can't be too careful." He shrugged. Coming to stand a couple meters away from him, you inspected him, noting how pale he looked. More pale than usual. In fact, he looked as though he could have been sick. "You look like you're about to fucking puke." Draco spoke again, monotone, snapping you back to the situation at hand as he withdrew. Looking you up and down, his lips dragged downward in a vague disgust. Feeling all too uneasy under his scrutiny, but passing off the feeling, you rolled your eyes. "Skip the niceties, by all means." Your mutter prompted him to smirk lightly, your gaze becoming all too focused on the way the corner of his lips then shifted upward. "I'm about to be inside your head. I wouldn't worry about niceties." Dread pooled in your gut at his blunt words, and you pulled your eyes away from him. Standing, he gave you another, rather condescending look. "You aren't about to puke, are you?" "No," You groaned, shooting him a glare. "Let's just - just get on with it." Draco only tightened his grip on his wand, adjusting his stance. "Clear your mind, and focus." Your chest was painfully tight, sending him a nod of acknowledgement. He seemed to take this as a prompt, as his wand came upward, and he spoke clearly. "Legilimens!" Panic flooded your being as his conscious plummeted into yours, thoughts loud and overbearing as you tried so hard to ignore them - but the feeling was overpowering, utterly overwhelming, and your parents voices were too loud in your ears again. Stop being so overemotional! Compartmentalise! It was too much. The Forbidden Forest, third year. "Deatheaters like Dementors, don't they?" Laughs and shouts came from around you, their grips hard on your arms. They dragged you through the trees, your feet skimming over fallen branches, stopping you from struggling. You were shouting, protesting, but the grips were tightening more and more. There was a dip in the ground, and then you were falling, hitting the dirt with a thud and rolling over damp mud. "You'll be right at home with the Dementors. Mum and Dad ever talk about them?" Winded, you coughed, heaving as the cheers died down. Icy cold spread over your skin, the sound of deathly wheezing echoing in your ears. Footsteps, fell away and you ran your eyes over the lake - cloaked figures descending around you, predator to prey. You let out a choked sob, gripped with fear. Stumbling to your feet, you began to run, one of the vile creatures swooping in close. Your ears rang as it approached you, and the force of the kiss pushed you back to the ground. Terrified, you curled in on yourself, shivering and freezing. Just kill me, please, just kill me- Another dark blur, and then you were plunged into another setting before you could even attempt to take back an ounce of control. The Room of Requirement filled out around you, bursts of white light shooting across the room. Joy - it was such an unfamiliar feeling, but you welcomed it as your lips stretched into a grin. Hermione Granger shot you an equally wide smile as a bright, white otter swum around her, before jetting towards you, just missing you as your own patronus leaped up into the air. A laugh escaped your lips, echoing in your ears as you stared back at the creature, swiftly moving up, up, up, until - there was an awful shattering, the walls seeming to groan, lights flickering around you. The joy dissipated, and you were left with fear. Words scrawled across your hand, etched into your skin, burning. "Harry! Hey, Harry," You were in the hallway, now, after detention with Umbridge. The trio did not stop, Harry's head only turning briefly as you called. "I need to talk to you," You tried, rushing after them, and he finally stopped, only to spin and fix you with a stare. "It's over." He growled. "Stop making excuses. You told Malfoy, didn't you?" "No!" You begged. "How could you say it was me? You saw Cho-" "Don't bother talking to us again, Y/N." There was rage. A lot of rage, but it only simmered into a terrible self loathing, as you watched them walk away, burning inside. Smoldering. Before another memory could take the previous one's place, you threw yourself out of the memory violently. Stumbling away from him, you dropped to your knees, tears stinging your eyes. Bile burnt the back of your throat as gasping desperately for oxygen. That horrible feeling of rejection took a moment to fully fade, leaving you shivering and hiccuping as tears rolled down your cheeks. "Take your time." Draco sounded a lot closer than he was before, and you pushed yourself to sit upright. Dragging in long, deep breaths, your eyes shut as you wrapped your arms around your legs, curling in on yourself. Shockingly, he didn't have that usual taunt in his tone. When the dizziness finally passed, you dared to open your eyes, wiping your face and giving him a glimpse. Draco looked tense, features tight as he stared back at you. The look in his eye was intense - but other than that, you couldn't quite decipher what emotion it was reflecting. Before you could talk, he extended his hand, and you stared at it for a moment. The out of character act eased the knot of anxiety in your stomach, and you took it, allowing him to help pull you up off the floor, his eyes not leaving you once. Avoidant of that persistent gaze, you sighed. "What?" "What?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "If you've got something to say, then just bloody say it." You snapped, lips curling into a small frown. He continued to watch you, silent, for another second. "Why did you help Potter?" Draco asked, tone edged but not harsh. You blinked in surprise, lips forming a small frown. "What do you mean?" "You joined that group." He stated, as though his question had a very obvious answer. "Why? You get treated like shit by Mudbloods." Hesitating, you faltered, struggling to put words together as he continued to search your expression. "I - I guess I had something to prove," You began, carefully, narrowing your eyes at Draco. His eyes were piercing, brow furrowed with his arms crossed across his chest. "Why do you care, anyway?" "I don't." He spoke, quick, cold. "It just seems idiotic." A spark of anger flickered in your chest, and you tensed your jaw, head shifting to the side ever so slightly. "I don't need your input on my choices, Malfoy." You spoke low, warning, his eyes lighting up as his lips pulled into a small sneer of amusement at your tone. "No, I'm intrigued," Draco pushed, a cruel look flushing over his features. "Tell me why you'd want to fight for the side that took your family away from you." "Shut up." The anger was simmering, breathing shallow as you stared at him. "You really want to save the people that carved up your arm? Fed you to Dementors?" That smirk was vile as it crawled upon his lips, eyes set on you as you struggled to keep your emotions at bay, tears now stinging your eyes. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about." "Because as much as you try to, you're not going to get away from it." The grey in his eyes was cold, the smile falling, leaving him with a dead look that chilled you to the bone. "You're always going to be the daughter of two murderers." Ripping your wand out of your pocket, you flung a wordless spell towards him - he managed to react quickly, throwing himself out the way. The spell, instead, hit the wall, leaving the brick black and singed. Draco gaped, eyes wide, from you to the wall. "That could have killed me!" "You're pathetic." You spat, hot with fury. "You will never, never, understand what it's like to not have a choice." Something flickered in his eyes, and his features pulled in painfully tight. You faltered. You'd never seen him look so angry, except for perhaps the first time you'd seen him in the bathrooms. "You think I had a choice?" Draco hissed, eyes stormy as he glared at you. "You think I fucking wanted this? If I don't do this - my mother will die, I will die!" A terrible silence fell between you. Breathing shallow and heart hammering in your chest, you stared at him, horror settling in your chest. Draco seemed to be just as stunned, shoulders rising and falling harshly, rage still echoing in his now fallen expression. "Do what?" Your voice trembled as you spoke. His eyes darted away from you, before he became vacant again. "It's none of your business." He grumbled, stalking toward the door. "We're done for today." "Draco-" But he had already unlocked the door with the flick of his wand, and you came to stand in the doorway as he strode out the room, vanishing into the darkness of the corridor.

#draco x you #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy angst #harry potter fanfiction #slow burn

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tudorsphillipa · 3 years

Text

𝕀 𝔸𝕄 ℕ𝕆𝕋 𝔸 𝕎𝕆𝕄𝔸ℕ, 𝕀 𝔸𝕄 𝔸ℕ 𝔸ℝ𝕄𝕐 —

phillipa of england

introducing —

her royal highness, princess of england, phillipa tudor

about phillipa

001 ─ personality

princess phillipa was never denied any material thing, every luxury afforded to her as a child. she is spoiled, and she knows it. having her father favour her only helped to further her sense of entitlement; she sees herself as untouchable. she can be acerbic and cynical at times, yearning for brutal honesty to cut through courtly lies. she is unforgiving and brutal, even to herself, and harshly punishes herself for any outbursts or slips. she even turns spiteful; spite and curiosity are twin forces driving her thirst for knowledge and power. she is highly educated in rhetoric and classical dialogues, and often uses both high-handed and below-the-belt tactics to win arguments. she likes being idealistic, but knows being practical will serve her much more. more than ever, as her ambition grows, phillipa only entertains relationships that are mutually beneficial, and companionship can only come from those who are ridiculous enough to be entertaining, or quick-witted enough to keep up with her. she has a natural commanding charm, moving through any crowd with the presence and gravity of a small sun. phillipa cannot stand sanctimonious people; more often than not, their sense of self-importance is either tied to something of little consequence or far inflated beyond their station.

002 ─ rumours

phillipa does not believe in the rumors surrounding her legitimacy; she knows queen anne dislikes her, but cannot fathom that her devout catholic mother would betray her vows. surely, if it were true, that she were some love-child, then her mother would love her more, is that not so? but no, phillipa had no mother’s skirts to cling to as a child; her majesty the queen would not permit it. phillipa has long since given up attempting to grow into a tudor rose her mother would adore, leaving that to beatrice. she speaks to her mother as duty demands and there is little warmth between them, but a part of phillipa howls and rages at her mother’s emotional abandonment. she can be especially spiteful with her mother. what matters now is not her mother’s endorsement, but her father’s favour; her claim to the tudor throne can only be legitimised through him.

003 ─ lessons

despite a natural curiosity about the world around her, phillipa’s childhood lessons were always dogged by a certain restlessness. there was only so much sitting around and listening the princess could do. perhaps it was because of an equally restless court, who still looked to the queen for a prince when she was born. perhaps it was the howling winds that ravaged england the winter she was born. whatever it was, princess phillipa is much more self-sufficient than her tutors expected her to be. after she had exhausted and promptly forgotten the usual subjects a young princess learns, she pushed her parents to provide for a more thorough humanist education. she has a natural talent not only for philosophies, but also for trade. she wanted to learn of history, power, and languages, making her a good diplomat for her father’s sake. mostly self-taught in other areas, such as literature, phillipa has become an ardent patron of the theatre, enjoying italian erudite plays, something she hopes to indulge in during her time in italy. she also enjoys sketching, with a particular interest in architectural drawings.

plots

001 ─ birthright

she is her father’s favourite, his first-born. beatrice is sweet and devout, and charles might be the wished-for prince, but phillipa knows in her heart that she is the one with the iron will and cunning to rule england. one of the many reasons she refuses suitors is that none are worthy in her eyes. she desires a husband who matches and furthers her ambitions for the crown. she knows the price of the english throne will be a hefty one, so for now, her movements are slow and careful, laying the groundwork and swaying support for her side. her biggest obstacle, of course, is charles; she would rather have him on her side supporting her than have him totally removed from court. he is a loose end at best and a potential threat at worst. the time spent in rome is an oppourtunity, one which she intends to use to the fullest of its advantage, to create allies and integrate herself with other rulers, especially ones sympathetic to her. she suspects the monarchs of milan and the holy roman empire may be her strongest allies, not only for their shared gender but for their common faith. russia and the ottoman empire are equally valuable allies for their economic ties, as well as their expansive territories. perhaps in another era, one more stable and peaceful, charles might have made a good king, but england needs better than good. it needs greatness.

002 ─ on holy ground

all her life, she has been a catholic, and knew nothing else. now, even as she lands on holy ground, she questions the church’s doctrine. there must be a god, she knows that, but does the lord truly require such complexities in order to be present on earth? is there no other way to have a relationship with god? as she mingles with muslims and orthodox christians, she starts to express her frustrations─ quietly, though, in vague words. phillipa is not a fool, and knows enough to fear excommunication from the church. the unity that catholicism provides is useful, but sometimes the ceremonial nature can be stifling and a waste of time. one thing, though, she keeps to herself: that religion is power over all, and it is better to be seen as fearful of the divine than utterly godless.

003 ─ presentation

phillipa is the best of england, despite what others might have said. before, she has dressed modestly, in a manner that better befits a princess of a country in a sombre time. the winds of change being to sweep in, and phillipa is the first to feel them. she begins to carry herself a little taller, a litter grander, a little more like a queen. she fashions herself like her father does, carefully choosing her dress and attitudes to reflect that she is her father’s daughter, both noble knight and tudor rose. even with the whisper within her that calls her an imposter, she begins to change how she acts, how she dresses, how she carries herself. with only her physical presence, she carefully balances projected ideals with reality. phillipa has never faded into the background, despite the best efforts of some, and refuses to do so now.

001 ─ phillipa has adhd! nothing officially diagnosed, but she does have it. she frequently masks around others, which is where someone neurodivergent can act neurotypical. she stims using her jewelry, mostly. related to adhd are her imposter syndrome and her rejection sensitive dysphoria.

002 ─ phillipa is. not a good person. she will slap you as a warning. she is very prone to snap judgements about other people, and tends to use other people. if you’re not funny, cute, or useful, phillipa will probably drop you like a sack of hammers. the only person she’s only somewhat vulnerable with is her younger sister beatrice.

the mun

hey all! sorry this is so late, but here we are! i’m jane ( 21, she/they, est ) and this is my first character! i’m always down to plot but there are a handful of topics i won’t write ( sexual scenes, extreme violence, etc. ). if you want to plot, drop me a message here or on discord! i’m still working on phillipa’s pages, and will update as soon as they are done!

#bgintro

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ilikefunfun · 4 years

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How Good is The Gang at Other Languages?

I found out a lot about Korea because of this, other thank Korean the most spoken languages are English (Most common, there’s English lessons in school but because they don’t get a chance to actually practice it it’s not extremely known), Chinese (Some people are Chinese in Korea) and Japanese (Least common, usually spoken by the older generation) but it’s not spoken very often.

MC: (As her own person and not us the player) Good at English and Chinese but few times has trouble thinking of the right words so sometimes her sentences don’t make sense, the kind of person to say “Look at that comprised horse!” When pointing to a pony. I imagine she likes to travel and went to America for a few years until she decided to come back to Korea, where she’s from to settle down to study/work. She can speak a tiny bit of French and Spanish but only the basics. As she works in the RFA she begins to hosts parties abroad and learn more Chinese and English but that’s because China and the US/Canada are some of the biggest countries (I know Russia is the largest country but I doubt they’d learn Russian). Her accent is also noticeable, not too strong but once she speaks you can very easily tell she’s Korean.

Jumin: Also great at English/Chinese due to him growing up in a wealthy home he was put into private language classes and was tutored as well. He also knows a good amount of Japanese because of Mr. Chairman being old school and wanting him to know it. Jumin knows a bit of every other language because of him often travelling for business related stuff. China and America are the companies biggest buyers (Not including Korea) so speaking the language helps out a lot when trying to sell there. His accent is also noticeable but not the first thing you notice when speaking to him.

V: Again, great at English, and Chinese, also a good amount of Japanese just like Jumin and also for the same reasons. I imagine that they both went to the same classes and would like to try speaking different languages when they knew no one else would understand for fun as kids. He also knows few words in other languages but that’s because of him always out of the country, traveling to take photos for business related purposes. His accent is the samosa Jumins.

707: Seven’s just a wild card, he can randomly start speaking Arabic and then suddenly switches over to German as he pleases. It’s difficult to tell if he can actually speak the language to just knows a few phrases, or maybe he’s just trolling and is just wildly good at accents. Either way, no matter what language he tries Seven always keeps his lovable noticeable tone of voice (In other words his accent is vague).

Yoosung: The worst out of everyone, he only knows things like “Hi,” “Thank you,” “Sorry” and that’s about it. He never paid attention in English class and never really needed it, whenever the RFA travels outside of Korea he just sticks to Sevens side and pretty much just gets him to do everything for him. Whenever he does speak it though his accent is very strong but you can still figure out what he’s saying without trying too hard. It’s absolutely adorable when he tries to say something like “I love you” and such.

Saeran/Unknown/Ray: Because I haven’t finished actually playing MysMe but have gotten bits spoiled I’ll just say he knows a good amount of English because of him working under Rika and trying to get back at Seven knowing English just helped. His accent is strong, not as strong as Yoosung but still very noticeable. It’s easy to look past it though.

Rika: Originally didn’t know too much of English or Chinese, but when starting the RFA she learnt more of the two languages and is now pretty good at them. After faking her suicide she still remembered the languages and they do come in handy, although her accent is strong, weaker than Saeran and Yoosung but not as great as V or Jumin. I also like to think that those two would help teach her things that they learnt and would help out as much as they could whenever she needed to say anything that wasn’t Korean.

Jaehee: Because she always had 100% and A+’s on her grades she knows English incredibly well. She’s almost as close to being as good as Jumin, although she never took private lessons or anything. Once she started to work for C&R Internationals she also began to learn Chinese as to help out with work because of the companies string ties with China. Her accent is stronger when speaking Chinese but not actually that strong when speaking English.

Zen: Finally, because of him always practising arts instead of studying in school he at first never learnt English, although as he grew older and ran from home he had a small interest in the language and found out learning it would improve his ability to get roles. He couldn’t afford lessons, and so he’s self-taught. Zen is close but not quite as good as MC yet still not the WORST. His accent is noticeable, as strong as Seven when speaking English but in the end he takes a while to process and understand what others are saying when it’s in English.

The end! Tell me what you think, I tried going off of what I know/how they sound when they do speak English during calls. If you think anything else or maybe know something I don’t let me know and I’ll add it in with credit! Thanks for reading, bye! <3

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luvdsc · 4 years

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hey!! it’s 🧋 anon!! i hope you’re doing well! thank you!! ive got 11 more exams this coming week so i’m a lil 🥲 and then 3 more maybe the week after? exactly! i was so paranoid in the exam like “am i suddenly smart or a grade a idiot?” but it’s comforting to know that others feel the same about tests in general 😅. i’m learning python! i know there are better languages but ehhhh it’s just high school sjdnndn. and thank you about my bias choice sjsjndn. oh no not the 10th floor 😭 i’ve heard horror stories 🤧 i just can’t get over how sweet, funny and gentle he seemed in the jolly interview 🥺. thank you!! for letting me claim 🧋! and i wish i could say the same about not knowing that it was released but i’ve legit been checking since pre-quarantine for a boba emoji bc emojipedia said it would be coming out 😭 i had to start claiming it soon bc i’m NOT letting someone take it from me 😠 (but also! look how cute these are: 🦤🦭🐻‍❄️🐈‍⬛ ). as for my regular boba order, i’m still a lil new to the boba world bc i first (finally) tried it like 2 weeks before quarantine 😭. so everytime i go to this boba place (which is hardly ever for obvious reasons) i try to get something different! bc it all seems so cool!! the place i go to has popping bubbles in different flavours! so i always try to get a different drink with different popping bubbles and regular boba. i think my favourite so far is any drink (maybe mango?) with apple popping bubbles and boba!! but i’ve also been making boba at home for agessss and i usually just make regular tea or green tea with it! 💗

awww 😭 thank you ma’am sksndjdj. i mean, you do give off very motherly energy so i’ll happily accept being a baby 🥺 awww you think my accent is cute? ms cat i’m blushing 😭🥺 oof yeah the exams are not fun™️. but like you said, it does kinda prepare us for them more but the stresssssss is 🥲😭 okay so i’ll answer these in order if that’s okay?

do you still have class going on in between these exams? i assume you mean specifically when we have exams? so unfortunately yeah😭 it depends on the teacher as to wether they’ll let us revise in lesson or if we have to do regular work

do the gcse’s determine your college field of study afterwards? kinda? i mean, colleges have a minimum enterance requrement for courses. although it varies course to course, it’s usually somewhere around the 4-5 (high c-low b) mark. but you can do any course you want at college as long as you have passes in most subjects (usually an emphasis on core subjects (english, maths and science)). (so like, if you didn’t do history in high school, but you wanted to do it in college, then you could do the course as long as you meet the courses’ gcse grade requirements).

is college different from uni? yeah! college is for 2 years and straight after high school. in england you legally have to be in education until you’re 18, so all education is free until then, meaning that college is free! (unless you want to go back to do something else later in life). uni is after college and is optional. that’s where you get things like a bachelor’s, masters and doctoral degree. usually it’s for 3 years although it can vary and you have to pay! we have a student loan system too!

don’t worry about the questions! i enjoy the differences too sjdbbdd. and oooo! here, high school is 11-16/year 7-11, then college is (usually) 16-18/year 12-13 (although we don’t tend to refer to them by years) and uni is (usually) 19-22! (although you tend to go back to that for higher qualifications).

ansnsekndj i’m sorry ms cat 😭 and for me college will start in september of next year! we finish year 11 really early compared to the other years (usually we finish in july (my birthday month!!) but in year 11 we finish the day our last exam happens! which is usually around the end of may to the start of june!) so the holiday is the longest we’ll ever have 😭. that’s one of the reasons i envy americans because the summer breaks are SO long 😭 here, they’re 6 weeks sksndn.

i hope i answered all of your questions ms cat! ily! 🐈‍⬛💗~🧋

hi, lovebug!!! 💓 i’m going to put my answers under the cut since they got pretty long 🤧

i’m doing good!! i got soo much sleep over the weekend and am well rested, so this means tomorrow’s 6 am meeting won’t be too bad 🤧 YOU HAVE ELEVEN EXAMS THIS WEEK???? what on earth 😭 that’s like 2 per day and one day has 3 aksjlhflajkdfaskdjf why don’t they spread them out??? and three more the following week 💀💀 this sounds absolutely brutal, i’m so sorry, lovebug. have you been studying for all of them? LOL yeah, i feel like something is wrong if i can just breeze through a test akjdlhsflask python is a good start and easy to understand! honestly, most codes are pretty similar tbh, so once you get a good grasp of one, it’s easy to learn the other ones :’) do you enjoy cs? 💕 aldskjfaslk yeah, jaehyun does seem like the perfect boyfriend, doesn’t he? 🤧💘 LOL i heard there would be a boba emoji, but i didn’t know if it was true or not, but woooo it’s good to know it’s finally here!! 🥳 and omg the dodo bird and seal emojis 🥺💗 those are all sooo cute!!! aslhfdlkjasd first time trying boba, i just gasped out loud 😦 i’m so happy to hear that you enjoyed it once you tried it though! 💜 omg the popping bubbles are really yummy! and i LOVE mango!!! 🤩 that’s one of my favorite fruits :’) same with apple!! omg you’re making boba at home asdjhfas i’m so jealous 🤧 i haven’t had any boba ever since quarantine started in march 😭 aaaah i loooove green tea and black tea ones :’) have you tried the cheese boba tea before? i thought it wasn’t going to be that good, but i was pleasantly surprised with the taste, like it wasn’t that bad actually. cloud tea is also really nice, too ☁️💞

akjashdlfkja you are the absolute cutest omg 🥺💖 the british accent is sooo nice like wow, you can just be reading me your grocery lists and i’m like 🤩 amazing, perfect, wonderful, never been done before. meanwhile, i’m here with some kind of american valley girl accent LOL 🤧 you shouldn’t be having that much stress at 15 what the heck 😭 i wish they would cut down on the number of exams for you because having 11 in one week is not okay at all ): and oh my goodness, thank you sooo much for giving me such thorough answers to all my questions, honey bee 🥺💛💛✨

ah, we also have classes going on during exams too, so i can relate unfortunately. it really sucks when the teachers continue to teach new material, instead of helping you prepare for the big exams /:

ooo i see!! i think it’s really cool that colleges actually show minimum requirements for acceptance. here, there’s no set criteria at all, so it’s kind of a shot in the dark. they do post the averages of past students’ grades/scores and whatnot, so we have a vague idea of what each school wants, but some schools are weird af, like my friend with a lower gpa and less extracurriculars got into stanford university, meanwhile my one friend who won essentially the youth’s version of the nobel prize and was even acknowledged by obama during his presidency was waitlisted 😬

oh wow, i wish it was like that here :o education is so expensive in the US, like student debt is the norm. do you still have general education classes in college, or is this where you can choose a specific field of study? and university is only 3 years oh my gosh wow, only three years of tuition to pay!! the US could never /: it’s like 70k/year for private universities, 5k-15k/year for public schools in state, and 15k-35k/year for public schools if you’re out of state 💀

the words “college” and “university” are pretty much interchangeable here in the US, so that’s really cool to know! years 6-8 / ages 11-13 (i think that’s the age range?) is considered middle school here, so it’s interesting to see that some of those years are considered high school for you :o

ooo ok, that’s when my school years ended too back in high school! i ended in may and started school again in august. but in uni, i started in september and ended mid june :’) ah yes, our summers are around 2-3 months, and i really miss having that now that i’m out of school 😭 only 6 weeks??? that’s so short omg i’m so sorry ): do you have anything fun planned for your summer? also, do you have prom there? 💕

thank you soooo so much, sweetpea, you answered all of my questions so nicely, and i appreciate you so much 💝💝 ily too, and i hope you have a good week ahead, angel!!! 💖🌷

#asks #anonymous #🧋 anon

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apparitionism · 4 years

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Hark 3

The new year has hit me pretty hard, work-wise, so I apologize to @kla1991 and everyone else (including @bering-and-wells-exchange ) for my lack of timely continuation. This is the third part of my attempt at a holiday story, which began its cacophony in part 1 and continued, similarly unharmoniously, in part 2. There’ll be a fourth-part denouement, delayed mostly because it concludes in a conversation that I want to make sing in a way that it’s not quite doing yet. Patience may or may not actually be a virtue, but it’s much appreciated all the same.

Hark 3

Myka took a similarly dark view of Pete’s next idea: “If mistletoe’s a no-go,” he said, “on account of this being one of these, how about we chuck an artifact that makes them sing? I’ll aim for Myka’s head, then Steve can rebound and hit H.G. Gotta be some karaoke something-or-other that’d do that, right?”

“That wouldn’t fix anything,” Leena said, like she knew it for a fact. Myka wanted to ask her not “what else do you know,” but rather “do you know everything,” the answer to which was probably “yes, if you mean everything that’s relevant to this excruciating exercise.” Comforting, in its way. Also inconvenient, because it implied that part of the “everything” she knew was that Myka and Helena would have to sing. Of their own volition.

Claudia said, “Even though I didn’t know there was a these—proving that nobody tells me anything, and I promise someday that’s coming back to bite all of you—and even though Pete doesn’t want me on his artifact-ball team—”

“Steve’s taller,” Pete said.

“And that’s coming back to bite you too. Someday. But for now, I’m gonna be the magical elf who fixes it. H.G., what’s the lesson of A Charlie Brown Christmas?”

“Children are not immune from existential despair,” Helena said immediately.

Myka resented how endearing she found that.

Claudia sighed and said, “Why are you always right, but not like I want you to be?” Myka resented how true she found that. Claudia went on, “Okay, smarty, what’s another lesson?”

“One’s so-called friends are likely to scorn one’s attempts to celebrate the season.”

Not quite as endearing. Still right.

“But eventually they come around,” Claudia pronounced. “C’mon, H.G. Be the Linus you wish to see in the world. Or I guess you should be the Linus everybody other than you, or you and Myka, wish to see? Anyway, my point is, what’s the true meaning of Christmas?”

Helena’s hands rose to her temples again as she said, “But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only.”

Myka said, “I’m pretty sure it starts ‘And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field.’” She tried to mitigate her knee-jerk know-it-all-ness by offering, weakly, “I mean, if you’re really being the Linus.”

“I think H.G.’s flaunting again,” said Steve.

“I am repurposing,” Helena said. “A verse from the Epistle of James, as a Christmas thing. Being the sole Victorian representative, I claim the privilege.”

“Also you’re a pretty committed flaunter,” Myka said, because it was the case—and that too was knee-jerk, for she did not bear in mind, for the split second she said it, the full situation they were in. She’d said it as a tease, and they were nowhere near safe teasing ground.

But Helena’s mood had shifted—possibly because of Charlie Brown reasons, which possibly meant that Claudia really was a magical elf—for she said, “True. And truce? For the length of a verse: together as doers of the word, and not hearers only.”

“Fine,” Myka grudged. “But only so Claudia quits looking at us like we stole Christmas. And I pity the hearers.”

“As do I,” Helena said, solemn.

Claudia passed her phone to Helena. Myka leaned to read with her the words of the next verse. They both inhaled, looked at each other, and said “you start” at the same time. After a chorus of “geez,” “come on,” and similar from the annoying people who could actually sing (and who thus weren’t about to make fools of themselves), they gave up and got on with it.

And so they together submitted, in Wenceslasment:

“O dilecta domina, cur sic alienaris? An nescis, o carissima, quod sic adamaris? Si tu esses Helena, vellem esse Paris! Tamen potest fieri noster amor talis.”

The ensuing silence was eloquent enough, but Pete put it into words: “That’s a wow from me. I had no idea anything could sound that bad. Start to finish, next-level awful.”

“Thanks,” Myka said.

“You’re welcome. Seriously, if that was ‘Good King Wenceslas,’ then I’m good King Wenceslas.”

“And yet I feel like that did it? Made it happy?” Steve said, and Leena agreed with him.

Claudia said, “So I guess we’re calling Pete ‘good King Dub’ from now on.”

“I’m into it,” Pete said, “and my first royal decree is, I want to know what they just made it happy singing—or I guess I mean ‘singing’—about. Somewhere in the scary noises I heard ‘Helena,’ so something’s up.”

Helena said, “I have Latin, and I would rather not say.”

“So do I,” Myka said. “And ditto.”

“But for the rest of the class.” Claudia grabbed her phone back. “Okay, here’s what some guy Symonds said it meant, way back in, wait for it, ye olde Victorian times.”

Helena startled: a tiny upturn of chin. “John Symonds?”

“Yeah. Know him?”

“Not well. Mutual friends... he was an advocate of so-called ‘Greek love.’”

Pete’s eyebrows rose. “Going to Greece to get all hey-hey? Like a vacation?”

“Not... precisely that. Although not not that, I imagine.”

Steve chortled. Then he schooled his expression and said, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for understanding such euphemisms. This sole representative appreciates it.”

Claudia, not to be deterred, said, “Oh, like he’s the only one who got it. But speaking of getting it, because whoever was singing about the time of flowers clearly wanted to.” She then intoned, “O my chosen one, why dost thou shun me? Dost thou not know, dearest, how much thou art loved? If thou wert Helen, I would be Paris. So great is our love that it can be so.” Hearing that diction in Claudia’s voice was strange... but she reverted to normal with, “That’s some business. You certainly do get around, H.G.”

“I am not Helen of Troy, thank you.”

“You sure?” Pete said. “I heard she was hot, just like you.” He bumped Helena in the shoulder.

“Hey!” Myka objected—about the shoulder-bump as well as the “hot.” But more the “hot.”

“She is though! And I thought so first.”

“You did not,” Myka said.

Helena said, “That sounds like a veiled offense.”

“I saw you before he did,” Myka told her. “And anyone who sees you...” She would have gone on, but her ears had begun to burn, a sure sign she was about to head into the “saying too much out loud” zone.

Helena blinked herself to understanding, and Myka was gratified that she seemed a little flustered too as she said, “Oh. Well. That is... complimentary.”

That first sight... Myka had not felt anything recognizable as love at that sight; rather, she’d felt a sense, something that she now considered a flutter from the future. Their first interaction, in its entirety, had made no sense at all, primarily on the obvious “H.G. Wells?!?” level, but also in its subterranean murmur, which Myka could not parse, could not even fathom, not until years later when she understood what her body had been trying to tell her. What it had decided it wanted.

Because she could not help herself, she had recently asked Helena a version of “What did you know and when did you know it?” Because the Helena of that earliest part remained an opacity, one about whom Myka was endlessly curious, and asking obliquely about desire rather than baldly about deception seemed a safer way in.

Helena gave the question some thought, making Myka glad she had asked, for being able to prompt Helena to real thought was a prize. “Something sparked for me when you said, ‘H.G. Wells is a woman. I’m going to have to process this.' Because of course I was myself working to ‘process’ that H.G. Wells was not a woman, if you can see at all what I mean.”

“Not quite,” Myka admitted.

“At that point I hadn’t entirely absorbed the history, the idea that Charles had so fully become... him. Me? That time had rendered any distance between Charles and... what I mean is, I had not ‘processed’ that I myself, as myself, would be so utterly forgotten.” She paused. “And then that you would... ‘process.’ That word, used as a verb of cogitation, seemed so deliberate, so new, so singular, as if you’d invented such usage solely as a response to me.”

Helena lied with great facility; Myka did know that about her approach to deception. This sort of hesitant, cautious talk usually connoted truth—here, a truth flattering to Myka. “I wish I had invented it,” she said. New usages, new words, an entirely new language; she should have realized that all of these would come to seem necessary. “And I’m sorry if this shouldn’t be true, but I’m perversely glad to have this secret knowledge. About you. As yourself.” That was a prize too—the luxurious exclusivity of her knowledge, her behind-the-velvet-rope version of H.G. Wells.

“That you are one of the few who do have it is so pleasing to me that I would write a novel about it.”

“I thought you supplied the research,” Myka said, trying to distract herself from the suddenly all-consuming idea that H.G. Wells, in whatever incarnation, had just mentioned writing a novel about something even vaguely related to Myka Bering.

“As if I couldn’t have written those books? I simply didn’t have the time, and Charles did. But I have already compiled extensive research regarding yourself—and your ability to process.”

Myka’s own clearest spark-point had occurred when Helena had looked her up and down—so very thoroughly up and down that Myka had felt that look as a full scan of her very self, a magnetic, resonant measure-taking. Helena hadn’t looked at Pete like that. Myka had clung to that look, had continued to cling to it, more tightly than she probably should have, when she was wishing inchoately but bodily for things she couldn’t let herself know she had decided she wanted.

So Myka said, in the interest of truth-telling, “That you checked me out was pretty pleasing too.”

Yet another prize: a playful “Is that what I did?”

“More thoroughly than anybody ever has.”

“Then it seems I have some secret knowledge of my own.”

“You do,” Myka said, and: “I’m glad it’s you.” Myka wanted no one else to know any of it. Her own velvet rope, behind which no one else.

“When does this end, exactly?” Pete asked. “Not that it isn’t fun.”

“When we’ve done enough,” Leena said.

“And when’s that?” Myka asked in turn. “Because it isn’t fun.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s when Claudia feels that we have.”

Claudia groaned out, “Did Mrs. Frederic have to do this kind of thing?”

Leena said, “I wouldn’t know. Now, are we finished yet?”

“Something about infotech,” Claudia muttered. She started walking.

“Narrows it down,” Steve said, and he followed her, disciple-like.

As did they all. They walked and walked.

“Really old infotech,” Claudia said, so they kept walking.

They passed early computers, including the wall-sized Harvard Mark I; telephones and the switchboards that linked them; calculators, slide rules, Napier’s bones; Babbage’s Difference Engine and Leibniz’s Machine. Claudia dismissed it all: “No, no, no,” she chanted. “None of this. Where are you, pesky upset tech?”

At last she halted. “Okay. You?” And in response to some response, she nodded. “This is it. “

It was a structure that looked like a modernist desk crossed with a medieval torture device. “Gutenberg’s printing press,” Myka breathed, in reverence—not that she needed to say it out loud. Well, maybe for Pete.

“Really?” he said, proving her point. “Pretty much the O.G. of infotech then.”

“Actually we passed a bunch of abaci,” she noted, “which are a lot older than—”

“Ix-nay,” Pete said. “This big fella clearly needs a little jog to the self-esteem. What’s its Christmas deal, though?”

Claudia said, “And so the overburdened Caretaker-in-training got her Wikipedia on one more time.”

“No need,” Helena told her. “This one, I know.”

“You’re certainly a more reliable source,” Myka said.

“It worked, professor,” Claudia said. “What’s the Yuletide word, other professor?”

“There is a cantata commemorating Gutenberg’s invention. Written by Mendelssohn, sometime midcentury? Mid my century, that is... the ‘Festgesang.’ Also known as the Gutenberg Cantata.”

Claudia said, “I think I know how this song goes, and by now everybody can sing it with me: the Victorians stole it for Christmas. Right?”

“Part of the melody, yes. To accompany a Christmas hymn known as ‘Hark, the Herald Angels Sing.’ Do you—no. I was about to ask if you know it, but again we return to A Charlie Brown Christmas.”

“Everybody knows it,” Pete said.

“H.G., are you sure all of this song-stealing wasn’t you and your Warehouse 12 buddies?” Claudia asked. “Some super-secret Christmas-invention mission?”

Helena made a face. “Would I be surprised to learn that I had been manipulated into helping such a thing coalesce? Of course not. The Warehouse does enjoy the power generated by a holiday.”

Leena nodded. “Lots of belief. Collectively.”

I am so tired of belief, Myka thought.

“I hope we don’t have to sing whatever the German words are,” Steve said. “I took German in high school and nearly flunked out.”

“Learning lots of new things about you today, BFF,” Claudia commented. “Maybe this isn’t Caretaker practice at all; maybe it’s about us needing to get to know your whole big complicated sax-playing, Wenceslas-hating, German-flunking self. And since when are you a flunker?”

“Something about the word order made me nervous. Like I was always having to untangle what was true. My fault, obviously, not German’s, but I’ve got bad associations, so maybe we could just go with the carol?” He tried, in melodious English, “Hark, the herald angels sing,” then paused, waited. “It doesn’t seem to mind that too much. It isn’t placated yet, though.”

Leena said, “Maybe it doesn’t matter which words we sing.” She tried the next measure as a series of la-las, then stopped and considered. “That wasn’t bad either. I’m guessing it considers the melody Mendelssohn’s real tribute.”

“That’s funny,” said Pete. To multiples of “why,” he answered, “That a printing press doesn’t care about words.”

Helena laughed. “You make an excellent point,” she said. Then, to Myka, “Doesn’t he?”

“He... does,” Myka had to concede.

And in agreeing that Pete made an excellent point, they were, however improbably, pulled extremely close to accord. Myka was barely able to refrain from grasping Helena’s hand again, this time to deal with the depth of her relief that they had... “reconciled” was the word that came to mind, though that probably had more to do with the carol they either were or weren’t about to sing the English words of.

Then again, what was wrong with reconciling, as a word, or as a concept? And so she asked herself why she was refraining. No good answer occurred to her, so she did in fact firmly take Helena’s hand.

Helena didn’t smirk, didn’t eyebrow, didn’t even look at Myka. But she did grip back. Then she went on, with a newly rich note in her voice, “I do think I understand: the press wants it known that the melody was intended to bring glory to it, not to this set of words or that one. And certainly the conceptual majesty of the printed word outglories any newborn baby in a manger, regardless of that infant’s kingship.”

“You’re definitely not being religious now,” Steve said.

“The press brought the Bible to the people, so it has a case for primacy on that score as well.”

“But that baby in the manger saved humankind,” he protested.

Claudia snickered. “I like how nobody’s being religious. Supposedly.”

“We are discussing religion,” Helena starched out. “A different philosophical undertaking entirely.”

“Instead let’s discuss what to sing,” Leena said, “because we’ll be singing together this time. Should it be about the newborn king?”

Helena said, “Not to upset my discursive partner, but the original German is about Gutenberg himself as a sort of savior. His glorious bringing of light into the darkness via the press.”

“If we have to,” Steve said.

“Although,” Helena mused, “I suppose that to sing about Gutenberg’s actions would be to glorify him, rather than the press as such. Perhaps that’s why it doesn’t care about words.”

“How about we split the difference?” Myka offered.

“What’s the difference between an English carol and a German cantata?” Steve asked. “Sounds like a really esoteric riddle.”

Myka said, “Let’s sing the alphabet.” The resulting confused expressions indicated that her very-clear-to-her idea wasn’t quite the beacon of obviousness she’d thought. “Connects all the dots, don’t you figure? Because what’s movable type?”

Helena looked at her like she, Myka, was the one who’d brought light into the darkness. She raised Myka’s hand, which she still held, to her mouth and kissed it. “Lovely,” she said, and although Myka still didn’t exactly feel like singing, she did find herself in a much greater mood to make a joyful noise.

Once the singing—or “singing”—began, they all had different ideas about syllabication, none of which entirely joined into a full cantata-appropriate chorus, but they did end up on “X-Y-Z!” for “re-con-ciled” on their first march through the alphabet, then moved on to the “Joy-ful all ye na-tions ri-ise” part with a rousing “Ay-bee cee dee eee-eff gee-ee!” Everyone was laughing by the time they finished, and Leena said, “Unless I’m misinterpreting, the press is as delighted as we are.” Even Myka, untuneful as she knew she’d been, couldn’t stop grinning... and, as she regarded a similarly smiling Helena, she wanted to be pelted with mistletoe for the right reasons.

Claudia looked up and around, as if snow had begun to fall. She said, “And I think we’re done. Unless anybody’s still unthrilled?” She asked the question of the Warehouse in general, the air around them.

The air held motionless.

Myka said, “I’m still unthrilled that we had to do this at all. I don’t know how Santa feels about anything, but Pete’s on my naughty list.”

“Aren’t you, however?” Helena asked. “Thrilled, in some small part?” To be back in accord, the sparkle in her eyes said.

Well, all right, she was. “You’re taking advantage of how this feels like a holiday now.”

“In Pete’s defense, and my apologies for uttering that phrase, as well as the one that now follows: his intentions were good.”

“There is a road to a place,” Myka said, “and that road is paved. I won’t name the place, but I think you and I and people who had to listen to us sing were recently in its vicinity.”

“Myka. You just now said it feels like a holiday. And it is also now certain that we will never forget this, our first Christmas together.”

“I like how everyone always forgets that I will never forget anything,” Myka complained.

“But sometimes you don’t keep things top of mind,” Steve said, with his particular delicacy.

“You didn’t forget that?”

“I’m not you, but I was paying attention.”

Myka said, “I appreciate it,” and, noting an inquiring eyebrow from Helena, told her, “I’ll explain later.”

Helena nodded and dropped the eyebrow. She said, “So perhaps a more meaningful statement is that I will never forget this, our first Christmas together. And I am being religious, though only slightly, when I say that it all—having such a Christmas, having this somewhat ear-splitting memory—is a blessing.”

“I knew you’d be all sentimental about Christmas, H.G.!” Pete crowed. “I knew it! Which is I bet why the Messiah figured I’d be all into saving Christmas. And which, FYI, I’m still pretty sure I did, Mrs. and Mrs. Bickerson.”

“Please,” Leena said, “not the M-word.”

“Mrs.?” Pete asked, in obvious confusion. “Should it be ‘Ms. and Ms.’ instead? I don’t know how to be sensitive.”

“That’s the truest thing you’ve ever said,” Myka told him. “Pay attention! You’re the one who just made noise about what tapped you for doing this supposed saving.”

“Messiah!” he shouted, like she’d acted it out in charades.

“Well, that’s re-agitated the press a bit,” Helena said, and to the mechanism, she spoke a single word: “Hark.” That word, said by that voice, was at the same time arresting and soothing. Something to heed. “Or, if you prefer, ‘A’,” Helena offered. Also something to heed. Myka’s ears informed her, by way of further burning, that they would in fact listen avidly to Helena reciting the alphabet. That they would find her doing so to be both arresting and soothing and arousing as well. Not surprising, ears, she told them.

“Speaking of sensitive,” Leena said, “the press is.”

“Aren’t we all,” Claudia affirmed.

“It has more right,” Helena said. “No holiday stole Mendelssohn’s music about any of us.”

“He did score a Midsummer,” Myka said. It was one of the few Mendelssohn facts she knew. “So technically about a Helena.”

That made Leena laugh. “We’ll see what happens if anyone ever puts Christmas lyrics to it.”

Myka said, “I really don’t think she needs a lot of help getting agitated,” and Pete put on an expression of concern. “No, Pete, that’s not what I mean.” Then he grinned. “And that’s not either.”

“What we should encourage Pete to do next year, however, is complete his inventory in a timely fashion,” Helena said, and to Claudia, “A timely supervised fashion, hm?”

“Sorry,” Claudia said, seemingly sincerely. Then she perked up. “But we’ve got happy artifacts and that’s still next in the stack, so let’s go home and play!”

Back at the B&B, just before the playing of Sorry commenced, Myka whispered that word to Helena, with whom she was to play, as that team Claudia had proposed—seemingly forever, but really only hours, before. That word, “Sorry,” followed by “I really am.” Helena didn’t whisper it back, but she did murmur, “Don’t be.”

TBC

#bering and wells #Warehouse 13 #fanfic #B&W Holiday Gift Exchange #Hark #part 3 #kla1991 #bering and wells holiday gift exchange

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bestfriendforhire · 4 years

Text

Children of BFFH, Entry 51

When our morning exercises were over, I joined the other kids around Valeria. Four was still attempting to get her to see residual energy around her, so he could start teaching her how to use spells.

“Try again tomorrow?” suggested Messy as she squeezed his shoulder.

“Sounds good to me.” admitted Four. “Mind taking a break for today, Valeria?”

She shook her head, saying, “Sorry. I really don’t see anything.”

“Don’t worry about it. Most people take time to figure out how to see the energy. Four’s just eager to teach.” insisted Messy as she playfully shoved Four aside.

He shrugged and said, “Sorry if I was being zealous. I like seeing that moment when people first recognize the energy around them. There’s always a…”

Interrupting him, Luce asked “A moment of shock as everyone realizes that my brother is a little crazy?”

Aid snickered, nodding in agreement.

“What? People really do have neat expressions! You know they do!” insisted Four as he frowned at his siblings.

Stormcrow quickly assured him “We know.” Then he stepped over to Valeria and offered her his hand, saying, “Hi. I’m Damien Storm, but everyone calls me ‘Stormcrow’. I’m a wereraven, despite the nickname.”

“‘Stormraven’ just doesn’t sound the same! Far less Gandalf-ish.” asserted Aspy.

“I know! I’m not complaining, just explaining.” replied Stormcrow with a grin.

Noticing Valeria looking at him, Aspy said, “I’m Aspen Castello, by the way. Just call me ‘Asp’ or ‘Aspy’. Most of us use nicknames.” Then he stepped into the air, supporting himself with his magic. “My sister and I have telekinetic magic. We can lift things, create barriers, or apply force to things just by thinking about it.”

Taking my turn for an introduction, I said, “I’m Daphne Castello. Call me ‘Doc’. Aspy and I are descended from an Italian emigrant. As Aspy said, I can do like he’s doing, but I also will see some of your past if I touch you, accidentally or not.”

“My past?” questioned Valeria, almost jamming the words together with how quickly she spoke.

Nodding, I told her “Yes. I’ll see a large area around you too. Honestly, I’d love to see where you lived all those years ago if you don’t mind.”

“Will I see it too?” she asked, still speaking too fast.

“I can show you, if you’d like.” I offered.

“Me too!” exclaimed Luce, grinning excitedly.

“Actually, I’d be quite interested as well.” added Four.

“Me too. Our father’s already cancelled our normal lessons for today. He thought you might want some company.” explained Aid.

A bunch of the others started checking if their schedules were clear too.

“Mom!” exclaimed the quadruplets all at once as they split off, two running to one mother and two running to the other. Their schedules obviously weren’t clear.

Mine was, so I warned “Looking back hundreds of years might take me a couple hours. I’m a bit faster at it than Mom, but that’s still quite a few years.”

“What would I need to do?” questioned Valeria hesitantly.

“Yay!” exclaimed the quadruplets in unison from where they were with their moms.

“Allow me to hold your hand for a couple hours. I should manage in that time. This is exciting!” I happily exclaimed.

“You know, Vito is just that way.” pointed Valeria.

“Oh, there are a number of things they don’t want me to see, and their lives are fairly active. Skimming past events is easier when dealing with someone or something stationary, like some of the pieces from their collection that they promised to show me eventually. I wouldn’t be so confident if you had been running around for five hundred years.” I explained. “I might even be able to see Italy in minutes if you just sat around for the past couple weeks.”

“Sorry. I didn’t.” replied Valeria apologetically.

Momma Mila started speaking from the nearby speakers, saying, “Vito asked me to warn you that you will see a death in her recent events. He also wishes to apologize for not bringing anything yet. He had honestly forgotten, and promises that he or his brothers will arrange for you to see interesting bits of history soon.”

“Thank him for me!” I exclaimed, happy that I’d finally get to see bits of the old world.

“Please, let us in on that as well.” stated Four hopefully.

“I will! Don’t worry. I”m sure Vito doesn’t mean for me to be the only one who gets any fun.” I assured him. Then I suggested “Why don’t we go watch a movie? I doubt Valeria’s had an opportunity to watch… well, anything, really. Maybe The Hobbit? Just ask Momma Mila to pause it for us if I start showing you something interesting.”

“I love you, Doc!” exclaimed Aspy as he gave me a hug.

“She’s a vampire, so she can handle something scarier, right? You should at least show her something like Alien.” insisted Crazy with a frown.

“Valeria, would you mind letting Crazy step back into that room for a bit? I think she still wanted to try breaking out on her own.” suggested Messy with a grin.

“Oh! I actually would! May I!?” asked Crazy, bouncing on her toes.

Valeria shrugged and opened a doorway, shutting it again when Crazy seemed to vanish. Then she told Messy “I still want to know how you escaped.”

Messy’s eyes went from their normal golden luminescence to a brilliant golden light surrounded in pitch blackness. For just a moment, there was a doorway similar to Valeria’s, but this one made me feel distinctly uncomfortable. “Through something like that, but imagine it making you feel happy and being extremely bright.”

“Why didn’t you just show us the bright one?” asked Aspy as he hugged himself.

“That light would seriously hurt a vampire and blind most everyone here.” replied Messy with a small frown.

“Okay. Good reason. I like being able to see.” replied Aspy appreciatively.

Breaking the moment of silence where I was thinking yet again how incredible Messy was, Valeria asked “So what is a movie? I know the word means ‘a motion picture’, but the memories Vito shared don’t really help.”

“You’ll see soon.” I assured her, taking her hand to lead the way. I mentally pushed away the visions from my clothing and focused on Valeria. We hadn’t even left the gym when I grimaced and forced myself to keep walking. Valeria had attacked a man when she first woke up. From what I knew of vampires, I was amazed that she kept herself from killing him. She had still looked more like a cadaver than something alive at that point. Of course, she was more shriveled before a different man’s blood had reached her. He had been crushed by debris as an archway collapsed.

I did my best to focus on other things while keeping the visions speeding back through time. Little that interested me happened around Valeria for many, many years, and her shriveled husk wasn’t a pleasant sight either. Knowing someone had been perfectly motionless for so very long was strange to me.

Finally, I saw Valeria being placed into the large, stone sarcophagus where a pool of blood waited. For a moment, I forgot myself, thinking that Valeria would drown, but I realized how silly I was being and let the visions flow. I was tempted to start showing the others what I was seeing when Valeria and the woman carrying her were in the city, but I decided to wait, knowing that Valeria would be turned soon. I felt so sorry for Valeria when I saw how sick she was, but that time disappeared, and I finally reached more pleasant sights.

“Valeria, please, let Crazy out.” instructed Messy just after I started relaying the visions.

I heard Crazy protest at first, but she stopped mid-sentence as she saw the small palace in which Valeria had lived. Beautiful. We watched some of Valeria’s lessons, and I skipped past her sleeping and bathing. There were numerous comments about the types of food she ate and the language we were hearing. Even pushing the visions ahead at a normal pace to hear the words in their proper order, I didn’t really understand much of the language, related to but largely different from the Italian I knew. I was vaguely aware of Crazy making a lyre on the spot after hearing Valeria play, but I managed to keep my focus despite the nervousness that Crazy’s magic had incited. Disappointingly, Valeria rarely had been allowed outdoors, so we didn’t get to see much of the city. Still, witnessing snippets of her life had been amazing.

#Children of BFFH #Children #of #BFFH #Jovial Times #Jovial #Times #Fantasy #Fiction #Story

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bronzeflower · 5 years

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Casashouta

Also on ao3

Chapter 4: Is This Really Worth the Effort

-----

Sometimes, one had to reveal their weaknesses in order to be successful in romance. It was logical. If an individual was unable to be vulnerable around the person of their affections, then it was perhaps time to reevaluate feelings.

So, Shouta decided to reveal a weakness of his to Hizashi, which would hopefully allow him to grow closer to the blond. Namely, Shouta's weakness in the English language.

Shouta almost winced at the poor score he received on his English quiz. While he did find learning English somewhat illogical because he was never really planning on leaving Japan in the first place, he did have to admit that he still had to keep his grades up if he didn't want to get kicked out of the hero course.

Shouta turned to Hizashi.

"What score did you get on your English quiz?" Shouta questioned, knowing that, logically, it would be a reasonably high score, given that Hizashi was at the top of the class.

"I got a one-hundred!" Hizashi gleamed. "What about you? How did you do?"

"Bad enough," Shouta said, and Hizashi's smile instantly turned into a frown. Shouta almost felt the loss of sunshine in the room when Hizashi's smile dissipated.

"Do you need any help? Because I would be glad to tutor you if you need it!" Hizashi offered, and Shouta felt like he was being given this opportunity on a silver platter.

"Alright, but only because my grade really needs it," Shouta responded with practiced indifference. Seduction required some semblance of subtlety, even if the intended recipient was kind of oblivious, as Shouta had found out recently. It was about the subconscious.

"Okay!" Hizashi had immediately brightened up considerably. "We can meet in the library after school!"

Shouta frowned. He was kind of hoping for someplace a little more private, so he did his best to come up with an excuse as to why they couldn't use the library to study.

"Won't they kick us out for being too loud?" Shouta asked. "You're going to be explaining things to me, and, as far as my experience with libraries go, they're not fans of anyone talking at all."

"Hm, that's true enough," Hizashi responded, knowing full well that the UA library had dedicated places for tutoring and studying that were completely separate from each other. "How about we go to my place then! No one can disturb us there, and no one will care too much about me being a bit loud!"

"Sounds fine," Shouta said while doing a victory dance inside his head. He could barely believe that actually worked.

So Hizashi and Shouta walked to Hizashi's house together so that Hizashi could properly tutor Shouta.

"I'm home!" Hizashi shouted out once they entered the house. "I brought a friend!"

Shouta's mind practically went into overdrive when Hizashi called him his friend. They had only known each other for a few days, and Hizashi already considered the two of them friends? Shouta would feel a little more honored by that fact if he weren't also trying to seduce Hizashi. But friendship could be a stepping stone for proper seduction, so Shouta supposed it all evened out.

Also, Shouta was weirdly happy about being called Hizashi's friend.

"Who'dja bring?" A girl that looked a bit younger than Hizashi popped out of nowhere. "He looks tired. And boring. Are you sure he's your friend and not just someone you were forced to do a school project with?"

"Nikkou! Don't be mean!" Hizashi pouted. "This is Aizawa Shouta. Aizawa, this is my sister, Yamada Nikkou."

"Nice to meet you," Shouta greeted. Nikkou frowned.

"We'll see if you've been nice to meet." Nikkou then left without another word.

"Sorry about that," Hizashi apologized. "She's just at that age where she's snarky all the time. There's pretty much nothing we can do about it until she grows out of it. Or, at the very least, learns how to target her anger in a healthy and manageable way."

"Do you have any other siblings?" Shouta questioned.

"Yeah! I have five siblings!" Hizashi said, and Shouta blanched.

"Five!?"

"I know, I know it sounds like a lot, but you get used to fighting for the bathroom. Let's see, there's Taiyo, Nissho, Nikkou, Tenpi, and Youko," Hizashi started. "Taiyo and Nisshou are twins, and they're the youngest at nine. Nikkou is twelve, and then there's me, you know, the middle child, sitting at a nice fifteen, and then Tenpi and Youko are both older than me, with Tenpi being seventeen-he's turning eighteen in about two weeks, and he's getting pretty impatient with wanting to become an adult already, while Youko is nineteen. She's off in college right now though, so you won't have to worry about meeting her at all. And then there are my moms in the house too, and not to mention my grandmother, so if you subtract Youko, there's eight people living in the household! What about you? Do you have any siblings?"

"No," Shouta answered.

"What!? So you're an only child? I can't imagine what that would be like," Hizashi said.

"And I can't imagine having five siblings."

"Touché," Hizashi retaliated. "Come on, let's hurry up to my room before we're attacked by the twins. If they get ahold of you, we won’t have a single second to ourselves."

Shouta blushed at the connotation, once again realizing about how oblivious Hizashi was.

Hizashi and Shouta actually managed to make it to Hizashi's room with minimal engagement with his family.

"How do you even get your own room when you have this big of a family?" Shouta inquired once they entered the relative safety of Hizashi's room.

"My family makes quite a bit of money, so we can afford a pretty big house like this one," Hizashi explained. "Now that's out of the way, let's get down to what we're actually here for."

Shouta's mind conjured up not so safe images at Hizashi's words before realizing they had come there to study Shouta's worst and least favorite subject-English. It was almost enough for him to call off the engagement entirely, if it wasn’t for the fact that Shouta was already at Hizashi’s house and the fact that Hizashi was absolutely determined to help Shouta out.

"Alright, so what should we start on?" Hizashi asked and then continued when met with a shrug. "Well, what do you feel like you struggle with the most? Vocabulary? Syntax? Comma rules? Contractions? Irregular verb tenses? Sentence structure?"

Hizashi rambled off a list of things that Shouta felt like he couldn't even begin to understand. Shouta vaguely remembered hearing about some of the things Hizashi was talking about, but, when attempting to connect them to any actual legitimate information he might need, his mind came up blank.

Hizashi managed to pick up on Shouta's dazed look as he paused in his onslaught of English related subject matter.

"Maybe we could just start with basic review stuff. Make sure you have that out of the way first before we go onto the more complicated stuff."

Shouta nodded, allowing Hizashi to take out some notes and pencils and paper as they started to review the basics of the English language.

The alphabet was simple enough, and vocabulary was, at the very least, reasonably easy to grasp. Pronouncing some of the words out loud proved some difficult, especially words with r or v in them, as well as vowels in general. There was a substantial amount of time spent trying to figure out how to pronounce the word 'hat' versus the word 'hot,' which Shouta found difficult to tell the difference between verbally.

Eventually, Hizashi moved on from trying to get Shouta to pronounce words correctly, declaring that they could save that for another tutoring lesson and focus on an overall review of the course material instead. Shouta found himself dreading the lesson that was focused on speaking English, even if it did mean that he could spend some alone time with Hizashi.

About halfway through their study session, they were interrupted by two boys who would have looked identical if it wasn't for the fact that one of them had black hair while the other had blond.

"Hizashi!" The blond-haired one whined. "You-wait. Who's this?"

"Is he a new friend?" The black-haired one asked excitedly. "What's his name? What's his quirk? Is he gonna become a hero like you? Oh! Who's your favorite hero? Mine is Stereo Crank! He has a noise amplification quirk like I do! What-"

"Taiyo! You can't find out if you don't let him answer!" The blond-haired twin interrupted. Taiyo-the black-haired twin- had the decency to look a little sheepish.

"Sorry."

"Well, to answer your questions," Hizashi started. "Yes, this is a new friend. His name is Aizawa Shouta. Aizawa, this Yamada Taiyo-" Hizashi gestured towards the black-haired twin before gesturing towards the blond-haired twin, "and this is Yamada Nisshou. Taiyo can amplify noises that he hears, and Nisshou can diminish sounds that he hears. Aizawa here can erase quirks, and, yes, he's in the same hero course as I am, so he's going to become a hero. Sorry, Aizawa, I don't know who your favorite hero is, so I can't answer that question for you."

"The heroes I like don't make a name for themselves," Aizawa said. "So you probably have never heard of them."

Taiyo looked a little sad at the response, but he brightened back up almost immediately.

"Oh! Are you the guy who won the Sports Festival? Nisshou-I think he is the guy! Is that cool? Is that why Hizashi didn't use his quirk during your match? Because you erased it?"

"And you beat Hizashi in hand-to-hand combat," Nisshou stated and then, with all the confidence a nine-year-old has, "Not even we managed to do that yet, even when we both gang up on him."

Shouta laughed at that, and Hizashi was a little too busy being caught up in the way Shouta's lips turned up and how his laughter was a little more like a cackle than a proper laugh to notice that his typically somewhat rude and blunt brother subtlely complimented him.

"You shouldn't gang up on your brother. It's not fair-" Shouta began, and Hizashi's heart leapt to this throat as he thought Shouta was defending him. "To your other siblings. I vote that you should all gang up on him. Strength in numbers is always a viable option when winning a battle."

"I can't believe you would betray me like this," Hizashi pouted.

"Don't worry, I won't help them," Shouta suddenly had the most terrible smile on his face, and, while Hizashi should be horrified, he was still reeling from the fact that Shouta had smiled at all.

"You're supposed to help me!" Hizashi whined.

"And interrupt a perfectly good sparring match? Never."

"Then I guess I'll just spend the next few tutoring sessions making sure your pronunciation of the English language is perfect," Hizashi threatened with the only thing he could actually feasibly threaten Shouta with right now. It had the desired effect as Shouta narrowed his eyes at Hizashi in a glare.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, but I would!"

"Are you sure you're friends?" Nisshou suddenly asked, breaking Hizashi and Shouta from their banter. "Cause you antagonize each other a lot."

"No-it's like pulling pigtails!" Taiyo quickly corrected. "Except not as mean. So, it's like Hizashi has a crush on Aizawa, so he threatens him with studying English."

"Oh-that makes a lot more sense. Hizashi-do you have a crush on-"

"Alright, that's enough of my dearest little brothers," Hizashi gently began to guide the twins out of the room. "Aizawa and I are still studying, so we need to concentrate on our schoolwork."

"You don't have to be embarrassed-" That's when Hizashi shut and locked the door, the almost frantic look on his face fading along with the light dusting of pink that had also shown up while Taiyo and Nisshou were teasing him. They were probably going to tease him more about it later, which was probably unavoidable for Hizashi. All he could hope was that his other siblings didn't find out.

What was he kidding-they probably would.

"Alright!" Hizashi exclaimed a little too loudly. "Are you ready to study some more English?"

With the way Hizashi dived back into reviewing all the concepts they had covered in class, it looked like Shouta didn't get much of a choice in the matter.

#erasermic #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #eraserhead #present mic #various ocs #bnha #my hero academia

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chadlesbianjasontodd · 5 years

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bro look i knowwww it’s hard to get good textbooks and basically impossible to find one that adequately suits the needs of every single student, but going through a textbook at half speed is Not The Answer, sorry @ all of my japanese teachers i know you are trying but please let us read or hear something that doesnt come from this one set of textbooks

the reason i cant get my homework in on time is that my brain literally turns off once im expected to interact with this textbook beyond reading the grammar explanations. just give me a tv drama. a news program. a novel. a magazine. anything i am BEGGING you. stop trying to gently guide us through basic life tasks for study abroad students and let me pretend to swindle a tourist as nature and amaterasu-о̄-mikami intended

^like that’s a personal rant but genuinely it’s not good for student learning processes to only ever interact with a textbook and definitely not good for them to focus on trying to memorize bland dialogue that is a vague approximation of what an undergraduate student studying abroad in japan (ten years ago) for two semesters might encounter. not that such things are not important, but it’s not the extent of what students need to know and certainly not the most interesting part of it. what we need to be learning is how to throw the fuck down with conservative prime minister abe shinzо̄ over ‘traditional family values’ and his anti-korean stance!! <-- that is not a joke. real life situations are not limited to buying train tickets and asking your professors for an extension. arguing over politics and money is important and you have to know how to do it the right way.

having five hours of class a week to go through 1/3rd of a 16-lesson textbook over the course of a semester (my experience at two separate colleges) means that you should be allotting some of your time to other things. you have time to give your students things that japanese people would actually be reading or watching or listening to. or at least giving them a class period’s worth of time to fight about something.

--->there is nothing that will get people to actually try at speaking out loud in a foreign language than telling someone else they are wrong about something and how. ---failing that, a fake roleplay where both parties get to play characters that are actually fun. i can’t believe that none of our valentines-related dialogues were about secretly hating the present your boyfriend got you. a waste.

look, i know that trying to make things ‘fun’ and ‘interesting’ for your students can be a nightmare. i know that it’s really difficult to plan lessons without the framework of a textbook, if your university will even let you in the first place, and it’s nearly as impossible to get an actually good textbook, and that there’s just no way to make things work perfectly for everyone. i also know that the best language teacher i ever had taught by blowing through the textbook at lightspeed and using the extra time every day to talk about politics, make us read magazine articles, and give us ads and tv spots to watch. a second once spent a whole day lecturing us about all the weird things people traditionally eat down south.

if people don’t give a shit about the materials they’re learning though, they’re not going to give a shit about what you’re having them learn. even if they try.

#language learning #japanese #sorry @ my japanese teachers i love u but...........this isnt working

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boogiewrites · 5 years

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Reports & Repertoire 11

Characters: Eddie Brock x Venom x Candace Miller (OFC)

Word Count: 6000

Summary: Candy’s ego leads her to make a bad decision. This leads Venom having to reveal himself to save her. How will she react to finding out her new romance has been a threesome she had no clue about?

Warnings/Tags: Language. Violence. Fighting. Venom being the best wingman ever. Venom saving the day. Candy coming to terms with Eddie being the weirdest groupon ever. Candy is the coolest and most reasonable cucumber.

Click on my icon then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

Candy and Eddie had fallen in a nice flow of come and go with each other. They had been right, being able to reach out and simply ask for the other was working well. He'd slept over at her place, she'd slept over at his, meeting up for meals and even a late night quickie in her office once was holding up pretty well for them so far. They were busy, but they were happy.

Venom kept nagging Eddie, threatening to show himself so he would tell her about him. Venom was growing very impatient and Eddie took to spending more time in public with Candy instead of nights in to avoid this happening as long as he could. He kept Venom fed in the meantime as best he could, and that was the most helpful thing he could've done for himself. This didn't stop the insults from coming though.

"Coward." Venom would whisper into his ear as he left Candy's place.

"Shut up." Eddie would groan.

"Chicken. Weakling. Pussy. Wimp. Baby." he'd nag.

"I get it you got a fuckin' thesaurus." Eddie sighs. He knew he was right but he was so happy, and Candy was happy and he didn't want to lose it. He didn't know if he could lose it again. But as he does, Venom pushes him to be better. He wasn't just Eddie anymore, he was Venom and together they could be so much more than they had been apart. And that fear of being alone was useless now.

"If you'd told her before you got together this wouldn't be an issue. You're acting like a jerk again. A liar. A dumb ass. It wasn't a big secret and now it is something you are keeping from her. Now you are breaking her trust. And it will be all your fault if she leaves us. Again. You're doing this to yourself, Eddie. You cannot learn your lesson can you?" Venom hisses and judges.

"I'll tell her when it's a good time to tell her. She's in the middle of a big story right now, I don't wanna throw her off her game."

"You are a cur. You should not lie to her like this."

"Oh you've got the fancy words out now." he rolls his eyes.

"Distraction. Excuses." Venom spits out.

"Are you just jealous? You want to be able to be with her too? That it?"

"No. I'm disappointed in you." he rumbles out and he knows Eddie feels it within himself too. ------

Both Eddie and Steph both were loving Candy's new place. It was better than what either of them had. Eddie was paying off back logged bills still and Steph still at her same job weren't in a position to move up so soon. Candy was happy to share with both of them, they house sat when she wasn't there and helped keep her company in the quiet neighborhood when the other wasn't around. It had even worked out by accident that Eddie and Steph had been staying over at the same time on a few occasions, which no one seemed to mind as they soon found their missing of Candy and potential for eye-rolling level jokes were strongly shared between them.

Candace had been deep in an investigation for a fighting ring. WIth her new platform she was ready to get back to her first social injustice she focused on, the homeless, and give a platform for awareness to it. She had assisstants and PA's that helped her go to and from places, recording and scouting and general snooping of suspected areas of interest. It wasn't unusual for local gangs to run drugs through the homeless areas of the Mission, this had been going on for a long time. Street corners with members rubbing elbows with tech start ups on the same street made for an interesting mix. This apparently had led to another case of exploiting the homeless. With promises of money or drugs, they would be lured into old warehouses or abandoned lots, where members would watch them fight for whatever was up for grabs. It was a dangerous job, but the cops were only interested in drug money, they didn't care about the people. Candy did. She caught wind from one of her informants at the shelter about a meetup spot that had been used more than once. So she sees an opportunity. With the sun still up she figures it's safer. Armed with a phone set to send out 911 texts and call emergency services with the tap of a button and a gun she'd recently trained and licensed in a holster under her shirt, she felt ready to take on another big bad.

She didn't want to endanger any of her employees or coworkers, she would've felt entirely guilty and responsible, so she calls up Eddie to see if he's up for some good old fashion detective work.It's a Sunday and that usually meant a travel day, prep day or meeting a deadline for Eddie. She tells him she has a lead, that she doesn't want to wait for it to get cold and is gonna check it out and asks if he's interested. He doesn't think much of her vagueness, she usually was when it came to work since they dealt with sensitive information. So as he's trying to complete an article draft to send it before midnight, he grumbles and tells her he can't, that he needs to finish up but he'll call her later. Without being offended, Candy tells him she'll just text him after she's finished, that she'd be near his neck of the woods anyway. He agrees with a soft smile and a heavy sigh, wishing he could go out and get his hands dirty with her instead of being stuck inside working with an increasingly hungry symbiote.

So Candy makes the decision to go alone. She gives Steph all her information as to where she'd be going and she is not happy about it. She lectures her and tells her she's being reckless, that if one of her people tried to do this she'd give them hell. But she doesn't listen, Candy is tenacious and when she feels those she cares about are at stake, and her inflated ego from her recent successes, she leaves anyway.

She circles the old warehouse, surrounded by desolate and decaying buildings with for lease signs on them. Broken windows and overgrown parking lots, the only thing she sees besides her were stray dogs and birds, she walks confidently, hand on her phone in her pocket and starts to close in on the specific building. She finds an old busted service door, a large piece of plywood over it that had recently been moved, the dust and debris around it was ddisturbed and the door behind it was ajar. She moves it just enough to get through. The metal door is heavy and scrapes the ground, uneven on its warped hinges as she makes her way into the tall, hollow beige painted brick building. Windows with lots of tiny panes, many broken with no particular rhyme or reason let in more light into the space. She sees rooms that used to be offices, for she's guessing was a factory of some sort. Over turned filing cabinets and paper garbage line the cement block walls with their single, wide windows to see through. The wire lined glass made it hold together for the most part, but it'd been smashed many times over. She guessed by the metal trashcan that lay on its side a few feet away. The usual graffiti, some gang-related, some teens drawing dicks and writing 'hail satin' unironically cover the inside walls. The ground is damp in spots, leaves, and puddles, papers, condoms and drug paraphernalia are littered about. She watches for syringes and plastic baggies, stips of rubber and spoons, remnants of busted glass pipes crunch under her feet. She moves to the center of the room, a large circle spray painted very roughly lays in the middle. She walks it, taking pictures with her phone, noting the blood splatters within it, the abandoned bloodied clothes and the signs of struggle among the lines of upright and strewn crates and boxes that surround the circle. There was definitely something going on here. But she didn't have enough evidence to really do anything about it. As she takes pictures, her phone buzzes. It'd been a few hours now since she'd called Eddie that afternoon, she answers quietly as she sees it's him.

"Hey." she whispers.

"Hey. Why are you whispering?" he whispers back.

"I'm at the spot I was talking about."

"That still doesn't answer my question." he snarks.

"I can't see outside so I don't want anyone to know I'm in here." she says obviously, walking back towards the door.

"You trespassing?" his voice inflects.

"Well duh." she says with a roll of her eyes

"Candy are you there by yourself?" he asks more seriously.

"Yeah, no one else could come-"

"Get out of there now." he says sternly.

"I'm leaving, I just wanted pictures. I needed some sort of evidence." she retorts.

"Candy I swear to god, you get out of there now and go home or I'm gonna come get you myself."

He doesn't hear her respond.

"Candy?" he asks more panicked.

He hears a rustling sound.

"Someone's outside." he hears her whisper much lower. She'd ran into one of the abandoned offices, barricaded herself in an old coat closet where the smell was bad enough to make her gag.

"You in trouble? I'll call someone. You okay?"

"I don't know who it is. I gotta go. They can't know I'm here." she says curtly and hangs up.

"Don't you fuckin' hang up on me!" he shouts and is met with the beep of a disconnected line. "GODDAMMIT!" he shouts, eyes shifting quickly over his apartment.

"Where is she?" Venom asks.

"I don't...I don't remember...did she say?" his voice fast and high pitched.

"No. Who would know?" he asks, trying to hide how nervous Eddie was making him.

"Stephanie. Steph would know." he says in an almost slurred risen voice as he punches her contact information.

"Steph? Where the fuck is Candy?"

"Her dumbass went to an abandoned warehouse for some fight club thing." she says with an annoyed sigh.

"AND YOU LET HER?!" he shouts.

"NO. I did not LET her. I told her not to but you try making her listen. You fuckin' journalists and your ambition." she rolls her eyes.

"Text me the address right now. Right when I hang up, you got it?" he orders.

"Why?"

"Just fuckin' do it. I'm going to go get her, she's not safe." He didn't want Steph to panic and he knew he had the tools to take care of trouble himself, he just had to get there in time.

"Okay, shit..yeah okay." she mumbles, hanging up and sending it.

Eddie's phone dings as he leaves his apartment through the window, venom carrying him with extended himbs down the fire escape to his bike. "You remember this okay? You know where this is?" he asks aloud to his partner.

"Yes. Go fast. I will make sure we do not wreck." he says sternly, just as worried about her as Eddie was.

Eddie zips through the streets, and thankfully she isn't too far away. He pulls up, seeing escalades and crotch rockets outside the building in question. He knew this was bad.

"You get me up on the roof?" he asks, and before he can receive an answer Venom envelopes his body and bounds onto the roof to find a place to get a good look.

"Eddie." he growls, looking through a hole in the ceiling, seeing Candy pushed in front of a grouping of men.

"Oh shit." Eddie squeaks. "We gotta get her."

"We have permission to eat these men?"

"Yes, yes, whatever we gotta do. They're bad guys, they're' gonna hurt her." he rushes out. Venom is about to crawl his way discreetly back down the building, but one of the men lay his hands on Candy and shouts in her face, backhanding her and pushing her to the ground. It lights a fire inside him that he only knew from fearing for Eddie. She was theirs and no one got to hurt her. His large fists raised, black obsidian boulders bashing through the weakened place in the roof. One time. Two times and it breaks through, sending debris and a grand distraction down to the floor where he lands on all fours, creating a blockade with Candy behind him.

As if she wasn't terrified enough, her gun already drawn as she's rolled onto the ground, her eyes almost bug out of her head, kicking herself back as she sat on her butt, creating space between her and the monster. A loud shrill screech, an eardrum reverberating roar comes from the inky body of the beast, as it moves faster than she can almost comprehend in her shock, knocking men into walls so hard the cement cracks. It grabs them and bites their heads off, eating some whole as they shoot at it and it goes unphased. She moves quickly, trying to find a place to hide from it and the gunshots. She stays low, not wanted to chance catching a stray bullet and hides behind a pile of crates, covering her head and trying to control her breathing.

The chaos stops. The screams cease and an eerie quiet comes across the large open space. Her eyes haven't blinked since the creature appeared, her breathing shaky and uneven as her hands shook.

"Candy?" she hears the low, bass filled voice ask.

She gulps and makes a helpless sound.

"We will not hurt you." it says.

She hears the feet padding towards her slowly. She takes a deep breath, a loud gulp and with balled fists she wills herself to turn to face the source of the reassurance. She's shaking, but she's trying not to. WIth her jaw tight she lowers her brow, trying to appear more in control, slowly standing and turning, finding herself face to face with a giant quivering mass of black, white veins pulse and squirm across the broad expanse of its humanoid form. It stands nearly seven feet tall, built like an action figure with large and bulky limbs, it's hairless head with large slanted, opalescent eyes focus and blink as it looks at her. A mouth opens to speak, revealing a mouthful of teeth she'd only ever dreamed of being in the mouth of some megalodon dinosaur shark from her childhood nightmares.

With the reveal of it's most certainly lethal jaws, she whimpers and stumbles backward into a crate, not falling but the look of terror clear on her face. Venom slumps his posture, retreating it's forward-leaning stance as Eddie is telling him he's scaring her.

"Candy." he states again.

"Wh-wha what...? You?" she squeaks out. "What are you? You know my name?" she says with more confidence, leaning forward slightly, eyes not leaving it's as she tries to wrap her head around what she's seeing. She must've gotten hit in the head and this is all a hallucination. Some strange thing that happens when you're in a coma or something of that nature. But it felt real. It sounded real.

"Yes we do." he says simply, more quietly.

"We? Are there...oh shit are there other ones...oh god." she rushes out looking to the door and the windows quickly, backing against a wall and her chest starting to rise and fall quickly again.

"Yes. But none like us. They are not here. They cannot hurt you." he says, it's fingers that point into claws, rest at its sides.

"Are you gonna hurt me?" she rasps out and the sound hurts Eddie deep in his chest.

"No. Never. Eddie would never allow it." he says with a slow shake of his head.

"EDDIE?!" she says loudly, her chin hutting back into her neck in surprise at the mention of his name. "Whatthefuck? Eddie? How the fuck do you know Eddie?" she says quickly, her mouth open and her eyes worried.

"We...are Eddie. We are Venom." he says, it's massive paws moving to its chest.

"Lemme see her, you're scaring the shit out of her, man, change back." Eddie says from inside the symbiote's protection. He slowly soaks back into Eddie's skin, shrinking back down into the familiar form she knew and loved.

She stands with her mouth agape, her face contorting through several emotions, mainly different expressions of shock and confusion. "Eddie?" she whispers, eyes darting around the room again, checking to see if this was some glitch in the matrix she was experiencing because she was having a hard time comprehending that this could be real.

"Yeah. Uh...hiya Candy." he says with a reluctant wince, holding his hands up as if he were surrendering.

She blinks fast and stutters, mouth opening and closing like a fish as she can't find words to express herself.

"I guess there's somethin' I should tell ya." he says rubbing the back of his beck and grinning nervously.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" she shouts, not angry, feet stomping and fists clenched, her eyes looking him over, head shaking back and forth.

"I can explain." he says with a frown.

"YOU FUCKING BETTER! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK EDDIE?!" she screeches, moving closer, head guiding the way as she confronts him.

Venom's head with it's vein like attachments to Eddie's body forms and slithers up near his head and she makes a nervous noise and backs away again. "We uh..." Eddie swallows and smacks his lips. "I." he says putting his hands to his chest.

"We." Venom says, looking to Eddie.

"Yeah uh...both of us. We're this thing. Together."

"Uh huh?" she says with a mixed look of confusion and uncertainty.

"I am a symbiote. An alien from another planet. I was brought here. Eddie and I have bonded. I need him to live on your planet. We help each other. We are one in the same now. Together, we are Venom." he explains slowly and calmly as Eddie is swimming over his head in guilt at how terrified he'd made her.

"Venom?" she asks flatly, addressing the alien head, trying to take in its words and make sense of them.

"Yeah, that's his name." Eddie chimes in.

"Our name."

"Our name yeah. When we're together ya know. Like you saw." he gestures to nothing in particular.

"Uh," she says before taking a deep breath, raising her hands up and lowering them to steady herself. "So..." she begins. "An alien life form... this... gooey guy here." she says looking to the head and gesturing with her hand.

"Symbiote." he clarifies.

"This..." she shakes her head in disbelief again."This symbiote." she clarifies. "You're bonded? Like... physically right. LIke symbiotic?"

"Yeah, he needs me to live. I'm his host." Eddie says with a hesitant face.

She stares at them without saying anything for a moment, blinking with her mouth open, eyes shifting between the both of them. "This." she shakes her head quickly and raises her hands. "This is a lot." she says in an offended tone. She turns and takes a few steps, mumbling to herself. "You think you find a nice guy and he's been abducted by a fucking alien." she groans, hand running through her hair as she exhales loudly.

"Not abducted. Chosen. By me. We are extremely compatible. We work as one now." Venom elaborates.

She puts her hands on her hips and looks around the room that's starting to grow dark. "Okay?" she says shrugging. What else was she supposed to say to all this?

"She said we were nice." Venom says with a happier tone. Misreading the context of her statement.

"Not exactly what she meant, man." he mumbles back. "Uh..." Eddie steps towards her and clears his throat. "It's gettin' dark we need to get goin' before more of those guys show up." he says, hesitantly reaching out to touch Candy's shoulder. He wanted to touch her, to know she was okay, but he'd lost that privilege, for now, he sees as she jumps out of her skin at the feeling, stepping away from him and putting her hands up between them.

She takes a shaky breath, eyes fluttering as she looks at the ground, ashamed of her reaction, but she was still entirely rocked by all this. There were too many questions to even form coherent thoughts. "Yeah. We should." she says softly.

"I got my bike. We could go back to my place? Or yours...whatever you want. I don't wanna make you anymore uncomfortable than I have. I'm sorry about this...you finding out this way. Can you...can you ride with me back?"

"With him?" she asks, pointing to Venom.

"Yeah he...he's been around a while now." he admits, wincing again.

"He has?" she says, eyes growing wide again.

"Yeah, there's...a lot to tell you Candy. And I wanna answer everything. I want you to know everything, okay? Can we get you safe? Can you ride home with me?" he asks reaching out for her.

She nods and lowers her gaze. "Yeah let's...let's go back to my place. I'd feel...better there." she says awkwardly avoiding Venom's staring.

"Quit starin' man, you're making her nervous. Go away for a little bit, we gotta get her home." he says, moving forward with a polite nod to her as he opens the door. Venom dissipates into Eddie and he reaches out for her hand to help her out of the narrow door.

She hesitates and it breaks his heart. She looks at his hand for a moment, and he leaves it still, eyes wide and sad as he watches the fear of him move across her face. She looks up at him, one smooth sweep of her eyes to his before moving back to his hand and finally taking it. -------

They enter her house, she's quieter than he's ever known her to be before. He quickly texts Steph he's got her at home and she's fine so they don't get interrupted. He fills a pack with ice and brings it to her. She looks at him confused.

"For your face." he says sweetly.

"Oh. Right." she shakes her head for a moment. "That." she says, moving to put it against her cheek.

He sits next to her on the love seat, where they'd been so close so many times before. But he keeps his distance this time. She went and changed out of her dirty clothes, already whooshing away in the washer beforehand. They share an awkward silence, the shifting of the bag of ice the only noise.

"You wanna ask me questions?" he finally breaks the silence.

"Yeah I'm just...I'm still shocked. I think. I'm wondering if any of this is happening at all." she admits, not looking at him.

"I would like to assure you that it is. Most are confused by a new concept such as this. But you are very smart. Ask us questions, we will answer. Then we can lose this awkwardness." Venom states matter of factly.

"Man, why ya gotta bring it up like that it makes it worse."

"It is clear she is uncomfortable. We do not want her to be. This is the solution."

Candy watches their bickering and it humanizes the amorphous goo for her.

"But when there's tension you don't just say there's tension. We can both feel it we know." his face was clear with agitation.

"But this solves the problem."

"It's a matter of tact, man. You gotta know how to handle people and their emotions." he says annoyed.

"You barely have control over yours Eddie. You are in no place to be telling a lifeform with 600 million years of knowledge how to problem solve." he sass's back.

They both hear a tiny huff of a laugh from Candy who is watching them with a much softer face. They turn their heads at the same time and watch her and her subtle smile appear.

"So you have your own, like, personality and stuff, huh?" she says, making eye contact with Venom. This was good, Eddie thought. This was progress.

"Yes. I am a culmination of all I have learned from all my hosts and all their interactions and knowledge they hold."

"So Eddie isn't your first."

"No. There have been many others." he keeps his voice soft.

"Why did you come to earth?"

"We were taken by a man you know as Carlton Drake. I escaped. The others that came with me...died."

"Carlton Drake?" she asks, looking at Eddie.

"Yeah. Venom here was a part of the big takedown of the Life Foundation."

"Oh?" she says surprised.

"I found Eddie when he broke in. We bonded, living with him made me see things from a different perspective. Together we saved the planet. We stopped my team leader from returning home to bring others to Earth."

She blinks and looks back over to Eddie. "Save earth? When you broke in?" she asks, tilting her head with an accusatory tone.

"Yeah... I uh..." he shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Tell her Eddie. No secrets. You said no secrets when she found out about us."

"I would appreciate no secrets. No secrets is going to be the only way I don't break up with you for this." she states rather coldly. And he suspected he deserved it.

"Remember when I said I was sick?" he begins with a weary voice.

"I fucking knew you weren't sick." she says with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

"Yeah. I'm sorry I lied. But, it was I'm sick or I have a symbiote who needs to eat people to survive now."

"He didn't want to lose you." Venom interjects.

"Oh, c'mon man." Eddie mumbles and looks away.

Candy's resolves falters, with Venom's admission.

"A scientist came to me, tellin' me I was right about what I was accusin' Drake of... the stuff that got me blacklisted. I wasn't gonna do anything about it, but people were dyin' Candy. They were takin' homeless people and testing on them and they were dyin' and it wasn't fair. He was insane, he really was." he says and sighs. "I wanted to prove myself. To you and to everyone else. I could redeem my name, get my life back if I could get in there and get proof."

"He wanted to be better... for you." Venom once again interjects with what really should be said but what Eddie was too afraid to admit. Once again Candy's heart softens.

"I.." he slumps and meets her eyes with his ashamed ones. "I did." he nods and looks away. "I wasn't gonna get any better livin' how I was. And you deserved better... and you knew that and I didn't see any other way to be worth your time unless I was somebody again."

"When I told you I thought you should get your shit together...breaking into the Life Foundation isn't what I meant." she says with a sigh.

"I know I just. I had to. I couldn't keep livin' in the shadow of it." he shakes his head.

"This is the part where I come in." Venom gives what he thinks is a smile and she sheepishly returns it.

"Yeah, I broke in with the doctors help and then it all happened real fast... Venom bonded to me, we escaped, I tried to go to Anne to have her tell somebody about what I saw. I had pictures, proof."

"You went to Anne?" she asks with a much less enthusiastic voice.

"She was a big lawyer, she had connections no one else did. What I did to Drake got her fired too cause we were togehter and I got the information from her so she was a victim in all this too 'cause 'a me." it all comes spilling out and it's an odd pleasurable pain to feel, coming clean.

She looks to Venom to see if he's lying, as he seems to be the one telling her the full truth. "This is true. She was the only one that coule help us. Eddie hurt her, she deserved the redemption as well." he states simply.

"Her new boyfriends a surgeon, and I was acting all kinds of crazy. All that was true that I told you, about the..." he pauses, "parasite..." he whispers " but it was because of him." he nods to Venom. " I didn't know what was happening to me and I wasn't in control and we were fighting for control and Dan, that's his name, Dan, he took me and tried to get me better. But when I got back home Drake's men came after me. There was a big chase-"

She interrupts his story. "Holy shit that bike chase was you." she says with wide concerned eyes.

"Oh yeah it was fuckin' nuts Candy, I tell ya. I almost died. I broke my legs and my arms and it was crazy." he rushes out.

"Broke your legs and arms? What?" she asks with a tilt of her head.

"I healed him." Venom states and she blinked fast at him.

"Healed him?" she inquires.

"Yes. I can control Eddie's bodily functions if I wish. I can heal him when he is hurt."

"Oh. Wow." she says, impressed. "That's...that's really helpful." she says looking to Eddie.

"Yeah, it's a perk."

"So if you got hurt... like someone hurt you, he could heal it?" she asks Eddie.

"Yes. We almost died. Taking down my team leader to keep Earth safe."

They both see the sadness in her eyes and the mutual feeling of relief to see it still there and also the fact that she was feeling it made them shift anxiously.

"You almost died?" she whispers, reaching out to touch his knee and she doesn't even think about it.

"Yeah I got speared through the chest...actually." he laughs nervously.

"You fucking what?" she says with a wrinkle of her nose. "But you can't even tell you..no scars or anything." she says looking to his chest.

"I healed him. I keep him running if I am fed."

"That's another thing..." Eddie begins. "He needs this chemical, phenylethylamine to function. And it's found in things like chocolate and what not but it's best if it's in the form of...well..." he winces.

"Brains. Human brains." Venom says what's hard to Eddie to discuss.

"That why you...ate those guys back there?"

"Yes. And because they hurt you. We would not allow anyone who hurt you and get away with it." Venom elaborates and the corner of her mouth turns up into a smile.

She shifts her eyes over to Eddie. "It's true." he says with those puppy eyes she's weak to.

"So you got your job back because the truth about the Life Foundation came out, and I'm guessing those first breaking photos were ones you took, right?"

"Right."

"And you didn't take credit for it?"

"I wanted to be finished with it. I don't want anything to do with that place again." he says with a slow shake of his head.

"But...aren't they gonna want him back?" she points to Venom.

"All of those who knew are dead."

"Oh." she says with wide eyes. "All of them?"

"Yes. We did not kill them though. For the record." he adds.

Candy lets out a little chuckle, an alien using human turns of phrase struck her as funny at the moment. "Well, that's good. I guess. For us." she shrugs and lets out a noisy sigh.

"Us?" Eddie can't help but blurt out.

"Well yeah. I mean...So, me, you, Anne and...?"

"Dan."

"Dr. Dan know about Venom, and they aren't gonna tell anyone since they haven't yet so that ties up the loose ends."

Venom lets out a low laugh. "I like her. She is so logical." he smiles.

"Thanks." she nods. "So are you."

"Except when he's hungry. He's an asshole when he's hungry." Eddie clarifies.

"So...you've been with Eddie for months then."

"Yes."

"Which means..." she sighs and knits her brow. "You've been with him when we've..." she tilts her head.

"Yes." Venom clarifies.

"Uh huh. That's a little weird. I would've liked a heads up before you unknowingly roped me into a threesome ya know." she says with an only half joking pout.

"Yeah. I...I'm sorry about that too. But...I didn't want to tell you because this is..." he makes an unsure face.

"Fucking insane?" she clarifies with a grin.

"Exactly."

"He did not tell you because he did not want you to leave us. He won't' say it. I will for the sake of keeping him happy. We really like you Candy. I have wanted to interact with you for a long time."

"Well he's lucky I'm an idiot who has a soft spot for other idiots apparently," she says with a smirk to Eddie who accepts the criticism gladly. "I get why you didn't tell me but...you should have." she states obviously.

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I didn't exactly know how to bring up this whole situation."

"Yeah." she sighs.

"I told him to tell you sooner." Venom interjects.

"Seems like I owe you a thank you...Venom." she says. "I don't know if I should like, shake your hand or something?" she chuckles. "You saved my life back there...do you even have hands? What's this sharing a body situation like?" she asks in a much more casual way.

"Complicated." Eddie says.

A oozy tendril emerges from the stringy body that flows behind Venom's formed head. "We can shake hands. I would like to touch you." he says a tentacle forming solid and splitting into a hand shape.

"Don't be weird, man." Eddie says, swatting the reaching limb away.

"No, it's okay. I mean..." she shrugs. "I would be lying if I said I wasn't curious." she admits.

"She is honest Eddie. I like her." Venom almost coos.

"Thanks." she says, holding out her hand.

Venom reaches out slowly, closing the space between them. The feel reminded her of a snake, you expect one thing out of it, cold and clammy, but it's warm and soft instead. It's solid but it had give under her fingers as she gripped it, moving her hand up and down and watching as the blackness moved around her hand. It changes from a shake, pushing between her fingers, wrapping it's formless hand around her like it was interlacing its fingers with hers, it felt affectionate and soft, encasing her fingertips and lapping around her wrist. It didn't hurt, it wasn't unpleasant but it was strange. "You are so soft, Candy." Venom says, little tentacles stroking the back of her hand lovingly.

"So are you." she says with a shifting brow of interest. "You're a lot warmer than I expected."

"You are smoother than I expected." he retorts and she smiles.

"So you just lay in wait in Eddie'ds body while we..." she quirks a brow.

"Yes. I feel what he feels, in every way. Every sensation, every thought, every feeling."

"It's annoying." Eddie says with a frown.

"I don't know..." she shrugs, pulling her hand back and Venom heeds her wishes. "That seems sort've...nice." she shrugs, her voice inflecting upward.

"See. She gets it Eddie. I told you she would."

"Yeah but she doesn't have to live with you all the time. Just wait." he says rolling his eyes as Venom moves to nuzzle his face against Eddie's. Candy lets out the first laugh since the shock of learning about him, and it melts them both to hear it, to know there was hope for normalcy again for them. As strange as normal had become for them.

@hardygal69 @raceylacy @emerald-bijou @negansdirtygirl22 @brianaisasongbird @vale0413 @izzy-the-ginger @chortletortoise @onomatopoetic-aesthetic @anrm1 @jademox @nightcraver @venomous-possibiities @tinastarkandco @chipster-21

#eddie brock #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock fic #eddie brock imagine #venom fanfic #venom #eddie brock fanfic #eddie brock fluff #eddie brock fan fiction #eddie brock fan fic #venom fandom #venom fic #venom fluff #venom fan fic #eddie brock x oc #eddie brock x ofc

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captaintrio · 6 years

Text

So. This semester has been unpleasant from start to midterm and looks as though it’s going to be unpleasant all the way to the bitter end. I’ll make a separate post about it later but tl;dr the only real bright spot in a sea of needless unpleasantness and tedium is my German class. The teacher is a lot of fun, attentive, and knows how to balance group work and guided work so that we’re engaged but not left adrift in a language none of us speaks.

I really like my German teacher.

However, there was a bit of an incident yesterday that’s left me stewing ever since. Partially because of the abrupt and incorrect nature of it and partially because this is the not the first time I’ve been around this circle.

We were discussing silent letters in words in English. Specifically, we were discussing why words like “knight” and “knife” have the letter K in them if they’re not spoken and do nothing for the word.

Now, I’m not saying my explanation was the gospel truth, but it went a little something like this. I raised my hand, she called on me, and I started to suggest that perhaps it was due to legacy impressions on our language made by French, as French has a HIGH prevalence of words with letters included that serve no purpose in pronunciation. (See here: Connaisaient, pronounced Connay. That’s six whole ass letters on the end you better fucking put in the right order but never ever say.)

Before I could get through the end of the word “French,” she jumped all over me. “English is a Germanic language.” She said.

Which is factually accurate. English and German are definitely sister languages and definitely share a lot of linguistic and grammatical behaviours.

“French has had no influence on English, neither has any other language. English is Germanic, and the only language that has ever influenced it or that it bears any resemblance to is German.”

...Not factually accurate, even vaguely.

“Nice try, good guess, but you’re still annoying anyone trying to learn your language with the K in knife.” she jokes. Everyone has a good laugh, the class moves on, and honestly, she didn’t mean anything by it so I wasn’t gonna flex linguistic anthropology on her. (it was a little embarrassing to be laughed at about something I wasn’t actually wrong about, but that was my button that got pressed, not her problem, not the time or place, ya know?)

My big issue was mostly that this is the third professor I’ve had with a Ph.D. in both their own first language and English that did not seem to have any objective history on my birth language. This German teacher, with a Ph.D. in both German and English, and TWO French teachers, with Ph.D.s in French and English, have all said with absolute certainty that the only language to have any linguistic influence on English is German (said by the German teacher) and French (stated separately by both French teachers.)

Wrong...and wrong. English is the weird Frankenstein’s monster of languages, stealing bits of older languages like the flu steals pieces of a host immune system and stitching them together into an amorphous blob of viral, living tissue that is constantly shifting and changing over time. Anything that got close to English in its infancy and adolescence was sifted through, stolen from and left without one of its kidneys in the ice bath of history. There is no single source for its evolution, regardless of whether the person asserting so sources that singular influence as German OR French. While I’m deeply considering writing the only-partially abridged anthropological perspective, I will stick to listing a few examples of vocabulary that help to illustrate the--at the VERY least shared-- parentage of English.

Pork. In German, Pork is called Schweinefleisch. You can see some familiar cognates here, schweine = swine, fleisch = flesh. Both fairly easily recognizable. In French, Pork is called...Porc. Funny how that’s one single letter off the English word. Couldn’t possibly be a legacy word from when French-English was considered the high English in the 1600s, a period where germanic-English was the low English. Just a coincidence, I’m sure.

Letter (as in to write a letter to a friend.) The word for letter in German is “brief.” Again, an easily recognizable cognate as we use the term brief in English for professional write-ups, we call certain types of meetings “briefings,” etc. The word for letter in French is...lettre. Again, impossible they’re related, must be a cosmic coincidence.

Hospital. In German, this is krankenhaus, which translates to “sick house” as krank is sick and haus, another easy cognate, is house. In French, the word for hospital is--wait for it--hôpital. Technically one letter off again, although the accent mark here is used to denote where a word in old-French used to have an s in it, which was later omitted as the language shifted towards modern pronunciations.

Forest. In German, this is Wald. Not really an easily recognizable cognate this time. In French, the word for forest is forêt. Again with the accent mark to show the placement of a since-omitted s.

I realize these are only four words. Am I suggesting that these four words make up a decisive thesis on the linguistic heritage of my birth language? Absolutely not. And hell, I could be wrong about why English has so many words that contain letters that must be present in the spelling but are never said, or a least never pronounced consistently. (Looking at you rough, through, thought.) All I’m saying--and really all I’m trying to illustrate here--is that the presence of a linguistic behaviour inconsistent with the Germanic roots of the language pretty thoroughly disqualifies the theory that English had a singular origin, and all other grammatical quirks must have developed spontaneously. We live on a tiny little planet all on top of each other.

Languages definitely have stronger similarities with other languages that share their roots (which is why it’s arguably easier to learn French if your first language is Spanish or Italian, for example, and likely why I find German much more intuitive than French.) but that doesn’t mean languages not related by root have had no influence on each other. That would be like saying the only people that influence your personality in your life are your direct blood relatives. Do you get a lot of your basic physical and psychological traits from your blood relatives? Of course! But that doesn’t mean we don’t take on board the traits and lessons of the people around us, and language is no different. How could it be, when language is the vehicle with which we communicate with those other people around us?

Anyway, it’s 1:53 AM and I think I’ve gotten this mostly out of my system. Sorry for the long ass post on your dash in the middle of the night and for the unsolicited mini linguistics lecture, I just had to get this out of my head or I was gonna keep stewing on it.

#linguistics #history #german #french #english #I feel like linguistic anthropology and history of the language #should both be part of graduate degree curriculum for the given language #I figure if you've got a doctorate in a language you should know its history #but w/e

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